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Updated: May 13, 2025
And if I do, then I can write books and communicate it to other people, so that they can judge it, and see if it's any better than the vision they have. It is a higher kind of unselfishness, I think." "I see," said Corydon. "It's not easy to understand." "No one understands it," he replied.
He had been obliged to leave Corydon heart-broken at home, because he had not been able to lay by enough to bring her; he had to stay at a cheap hotel cheaper even than any of the actors; and when Miss Lewis and Mr. Tapping went out to lunch, he would have to say that he was not hungry, and then go off and get something at a corner grocery.
There are no meadows where the cows lie lazily, no fields where the red and purple kerchiefs of the reapers overtop the high corn; no orchards, no hayfields; nothing like those hill slopes where the wild herbs encroach upon the vines, and the goats of Corydon and Damoetas require to be kept from mischief; where, a little lower down, the Athenian shopkeeper of Aristophanes goes daily to look whether yesterday's hard figs may not have ripened, or the vine wreaths pruned last week grown too lushly.
They had come from the wilds of Palestine and the deserts of Northern Africa; they had argued and wondered and feared in Gothic cloisters, in New England meeting-houses; and the shadow of their souls hung over him still. He could not love love as Corydon loved it, he could not trust it as she trusted it.
"Love is just a little thing to you," he said; "you've got your books and your career. And you want it to be the same with Corydon you've succeeded in persuading her that that's what she wants also. You're going to make her a copy of yourself! But you simply can't do it, boy she's a woman. And a woman's one interest in the world is love it's everything in life to her, the thing she's made for.
He would be willing to have Thyrsis try another, but he was pretty well supplied with serials just then, and could not give much encouragement. Corydon had yielded to her parents and gone to stay with them for a while; and Thyrsis had got his own expenses down to less than five dollars a week including such items as stationery and postage on his manuscripts.
Bucolic paradise of Battus and Bombyce, of Corydon and Daphnis, may it please the hierophants of Sanskrit lore, of derivative Aryan philology, of iconoclastic euhemerism, to spare us yet awhile the lovely myths that dance across the asphodel meads of sunny Sicily.
I had no idea " "But how did you get started?" "I've nobody to confide in nobody!" cried Corydon. "And she wanted to know about me she led me on. I thought she sympathized with me I thought she understood!" "She's a woman of the world, my dear." "She was just pulling me to pieces! She wanted to see how I worked! Don't you see what she was looking for, Thyrsis she thought I was material!"
"I suppose," he said, "you'll be hearing voices yourself, and going with her. Tell me, is she pretty?" "You wouldn't call her pretty," said Corydon, after a little thought. "She's just just dear. Oh, Thyrsis, I simply fell in love with her!" "You certainly chose an odd kind of an affinity," he said. "A Presbyterian missionary!" "It's worse than that," confessed Corydon.
For that brief space of triumph Phyllis is able to make Corydon waste his day too. The more he writhes and wriggles under the compulsion, the more lingering looks he casts back on the work he has quitted, the greater her victory.
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