Free David Lodge - Small World by Author's Note Page A

identifying the authentically Shakespearian portions of the text of Pericles , being preoccupied himself with the problem of exactly what Angelica had meant by her proposal, the night before, that they should re-enact “The Eve of St Agnes”. By pointedly telling him the number of her room that morning, she seemed to have confirmed the arrangement. What he was not sure of was how she read the poem. Failing to spot her in the crush at the coffee break, Persse hurried over to the University Library to consult the text.
    He skimmed quickly through the early stanzas about the coldness of the weather, the tradition that maidens who went fasting to bed on St Agnes’ Eve would see their future husbands in their sleep, the abstractedness of Madeline, with this intention in mind, amid the feasting and merrymaking in the hall, the secret arrival of Porphyro, risking his life in the hostile castle for a glimpse of his beloved, his persuading of the old woman, Angela, to hide him in Madeline’s bedroom, Madeline’s arrival and preparations for bed. Persse lingered for a moment over stanza XXVI-Of all its wreathed pearls her hair she frees, Unclasps her warmed jewels one by one; Loosens her fragrant bodice: by degrees Her rich attire creeps rustling to her knees —and, with flushed cheeks, read on through the description of the delicacies Porphyro laid out for Madeline, his attempts to wake her with lute music, hovering over her sleeping figure; Madeline’s eyes opening on the vision of her dream, and her half-conscious address to Porphyro. Then came the crucial stanza: Beyond a mortal man impassioned far At these voluptuous accents, he arose, Ethereal, flushed, and like a throbbing star Seen ‘mid the sapphire heaven’s deep repose; Into her dream he melted, as the rose Blendeth its odour with the violet— Solution sweet.
    It was all very well for Morris Zapp to insist upon the indeterminacy of literary texts: Persse McGarrigle needed to know whether or not sexual intercourse was taking place here—a question all the more difficult for him to decide because he had no personal experience to draw upon. On the whole he was inclined to think that the correct answer was in the affirmative, and Porphyro’s later reference to Madeline as his “bride” seemed to clinch the matter.
    This conclusion, however, only pitchforked Persse into another dilemma. Angelica might be inviting him to become her lover, but she would not allow him to make her his bride, not in the immediate future anyway, so a contingency had to be thought of, distasteful and unromantic as it was. Probably it would never have occurred to Persse McGarrigle if the sad story of his cousin Bernadette had not been fresh in his mind, together with the censorious comment of Morris Zapp: “It makes me mad to hear of girls getting knocked up in this day and age.” Accordingly, though he shrank inwardly from the task, he set his features grimly and set off in search of a chemist’s shop.
    He walked a long way, to be sure of not being observed by any stray members of the conference, and eventually found, or rather lost, himself in the city centre, a bewildering labyrinth of dirty, malodorous stairs, subways and walkways that funnelled the local peasantry up and down, over and under the huge concrete highways, vibrating with the thunder of passing juggernauts. He passed many chemist’s shops. Some were too empty, some too full, for his comfort. Eventually, impatient with his own pusillanimity, he chose one at random and plunged recklessly inside.
    The shop appeared to be deserted, and he looked rapidly around for the object of his quest, hoping that, when the chemist appeared, he would be able merely to point. He could not see what he was looking for, however, and to his dismay a young girl in white overalls appeared from behind a barricade of shelves.
    “Yis?” she said listlessly.
    Persse felt throttled by his embarrassment. He wanted to run and flee through the door,