"Jeeves," I said.
"Sir?" said Jeeves. He had been clearing away the breakfast things, but at the sound of the young master's voice cheesed it courteously.
"You were absolutely right about the weather. It is a juicy morning."
"Decidedly, sir."
"Spring and all that."
"Yes, sir."
"In the spring, Jeeves, a livelier iris gleams upon the burnished dove."
"So I have been informed, sir."
"Right ho! Then bring me my whangee, my yellowest shoes, and the old green Homburg. I'm going into the Park to do pastoral dances."
[P.G. Wodehouse, The Inimitable Jeeves]
Bertie Wooster's quotation – the kind of thing every young man about town once had on his lips – is from Tennyson's Locksley Hall, and is slightly wrong (Jeeves forbears to correct it): 'In the spring, a livelier iris changes on the burnished dove.'
Locksley Hall is a fascinating, if overwrought, poem, a monodrama in a similar register to Maud but with a much wider sweep. It even, bizarrely, appears to foresee aviation, both civil and military, when the narrator
No comments:
Post a Comment