A Mixture of Frailties by Robertson Davies

Author:Robertson Davies [Davies, Robertson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7710-2791-8
Publisher: McClelland & Stewart
Published: 2015-08-24T16:00:00+00:00

Seven

Phanuel Tuke switched off Monica’s radio-gramophone.

“Well,” said he, “if fate is unkind to my verse, I shall at least be known to posterity as the man who provided Giles Revelstoke with the words for his first work of undoubted genius.”

Revelstoke’s menagerie was assembled in Monica’s living-room because she had the best wireless set among them. They had been listening to a broadcast on the Third Programme of his cantata da camera, called The Discoverie of Witchcraft. Tuke had not written the words, but had selected them; the libretto was made up of recitative passages chosen from Reginald Scot’s Discoverie, verses from Ben Jonson’s Masque of Queens, and a witch-trial or “process” adapted from Malleus Malleficarum. Monica knew the words well; she had typed them many times, for the singers to study, and for the seemingly endless needs of the broadcasting people.

“I still think Brum Benny should have let Giles conduct,” said Persis Kinwellmarshe. She was not sufficiently musical to venture any opinion on the composition itself, but she had found plenty of matter for vehement partisanship in the politics surrounding the broadcast.

“Now Perse, give that a rest,” said Bun Eccles. “Giles himself admits he’s no hand at conducting. Why risk a good chance like this just to wave the stick? He can’t manage an orchestra and even you know it.”

“He’d be perfectly all right if Benny didn’t hang over him all the time and offer advice and fuss him.”

“Benny’s responsible to the B.B.C., you know that. He got them to do Discoverie; he has to deliver the goods. Giles said so himself.”

“Giles may have said so to you, Bun dear, but I know damn well what he thinks. It’s the old story: young man of genius under the wing of old man of talent—and the old man will bloody well see that he stays under his wing. Tonight will settle all that, though. It ought to put Giles right on the top of the heap.”

“Does anyone know what he will get for this broadcast?” said Odo Odingsels. He had tucked his lean length into a corner and all through the music had been eating the food which Monica provided.

“There won’t be much left of his fee when all the costs are paid,” said Bridget Tooley. “The expense of copying the scores will eat up most of it. But of course he’ll have them for subsequent performances, and over the years the rentals might amount to a good deal.”

“Can’t count on that,” said Odingsels. “This isn’t going to be a popular work. No use pretending.”

Odingsels was the only one of the group who knew much about music. Giles had friends, but no intimates, among musicians. Odingsels knew what he was talking about, and ordinarily the others deferred to him. But Persis would not do so now.

“Why not?” said she. “You’ve heard it. Isn’t it the most exciting thing in this contemporary music series?”

“I don’t know,” said Odingsels; “I haven’t listened to any of the others. Have you?”

Miss Kinwellmarshe had not.

“It’s good, mind you,” said Odingsels.

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