II. A GAME OF CHESSThe Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,Glowed on the marble, where the glassHeld up by standards wrought with fruited vinesFrom which a golden Cupidon peeped out 80(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabraReflecting light upon the table asThe glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,From satin cases poured in rich profusion.In vials of ivory and coloured glassUnstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confusedAnd drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the airThat freshened from the window, these ascended 90In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,Flung their smoke into the laquearia,Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.Huge sea-wood fed with copperBurned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,In which sad light a carvèd dolphin swam.Above the antique mantel was displayedAs though a window gave upon the sylvan sceneThe change of Philomel, by the barbarous kingSo rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 100Filled all the desert with inviolable voiceAnd still she cried, and still the world pursues,“Jug Jug” to dirty ears.And other withered stumps of timeWere told upon the walls; staring formsLeaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.Footsteps shuffled on the stair.Under the firelight, under the brush, her hairSpread out in fiery pointsGlowed into words, then would be savagely still. 110“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.“Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.“What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?“I never know what you are thinking. Think.”I think we are in rats’ alleyWhere the dead men lost their bones.“What is that noise?”The wind under the door.“What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?”Nothing again nothing. 120“Do“You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember“Nothing?”I rememberThose are pearls that were his eyes.“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”ButO O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—It’s so elegantSo intelligent 130“What shall I do now? What shall I do?”I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street“With my hair down, so. What shall we do tomorrow?“What shall we ever do?”The hot water at ten.And if it rains, a closed car at four.And we shall play a game of chess,Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said—I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself, 140HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMENow Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart.He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave youTo get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you.And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert,He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time,And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said.Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said. 150Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMEIf you don’t like it you can get on with it, I said.Others can pick and choose if you can’t.But if Albert makes off, it won’t be for lack of telling.You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.(And her only thirty-one.)I can’t help it, she said, pulling a long face,It’s them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.(She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George.) 160The chemist said it would be all right, but I’ve never been the same.Youarea proper fool, I said.Well, if Albert won’t leave you alone, there it is, I said,What you get married for if you don’t want children?HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMEWell, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot—HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMEHURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMEGoonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. 170Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,Glowed on the marble, where the glassHeld up by standards wrought with fruited vinesFrom which a golden Cupidon peeped out 80(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabraReflecting light upon the table asThe glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,From satin cases poured in rich profusion.In vials of ivory and coloured glassUnstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confusedAnd drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the airThat freshened from the window, these ascended 90In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,Flung their smoke into the laquearia,Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.Huge sea-wood fed with copperBurned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,In which sad light a carvèd dolphin swam.Above the antique mantel was displayedAs though a window gave upon the sylvan sceneThe change of Philomel, by the barbarous kingSo rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 100Filled all the desert with inviolable voiceAnd still she cried, and still the world pursues,“Jug Jug” to dirty ears.And other withered stumps of timeWere told upon the walls; staring formsLeaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.Footsteps shuffled on the stair.Under the firelight, under the brush, her hairSpread out in fiery pointsGlowed into words, then would be savagely still. 110“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.“Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.“What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?“I never know what you are thinking. Think.”I think we are in rats’ alleyWhere the dead men lost their bones.“What is that noise?”The wind under the door.“What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?”Nothing again nothing. 120“Do“You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember“Nothing?”I rememberThose are pearls that were his eyes.“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”ButO O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—It’s so elegantSo intelligent 130“What shall I do now? What shall I do?”I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street“With my hair down, so. What shall we do tomorrow?“What shall we ever do?”The hot water at ten.And if it rains, a closed car at four.And we shall play a game of chess,Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said—I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself, 140HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMENow Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart.He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave youTo get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you.And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert,He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time,And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said.Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said. 150Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMEIf you don’t like it you can get on with it, I said.Others can pick and choose if you can’t.But if Albert makes off, it won’t be for lack of telling.You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.(And her only thirty-one.)I can’t help it, she said, pulling a long face,It’s them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.(She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George.) 160The chemist said it would be all right, but I’ve never been the same.Youarea proper fool, I said.Well, if Albert won’t leave you alone, there it is, I said,What you get married for if you don’t want children?HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMEWell, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot—HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMEHURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIMEGoonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. 170Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.