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Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
226
Crimson-doubleted,
blue-ribanded,
white-trunk-hosed,
he
stooped
to
understrap
his
left
knee
with
that
strap
of
velvet
round
which
sparkles
the
proud
gay
motto
of
the
Order.
He
affixed
to
his
breast
the
octoradiant
star,
so
much
larger
and
more
lustrous
than
any
actual
star
in
heaven.
Round
his
neck
he
slung
that
long
daedal
chain
wherefrom
St.
George,
slaying
the
Dragon,
dangles.
He
bowed
his
shoulders
to
assume
that
vast
mantle
of
blue
velvet,
so
voluminous,
so
enveloping,
that,
despite
the
Cross
of
St.
George
blazing
on
it,
and
the
shoulder-knots
like
two
great
white
tropical
flowers
planted
on
it,
we
seem
to
know
from
it
in
what
manner
of
mantle
Elijah
prophesied.
Across
his
breast
he
knotted
this
mantle’s
two
cords
of
gleaming
bullion,
one
tassel
a
due
trifle
higher
than
its
fellow.
All
these
things
being
done,
he
moved
away
from
the
mirror,
and
drew
on
a
pair
of
white
kid
gloves.
Both
of
these
being
buttoned,
he
plucked
up
certain
folds
of
his
mantle
into
the
hollow
of
his
left
arm,
and
with
his
right
hand
gave
to
his
left
hand
that
ostrich-plumed
and
heron-plumed
hat
of
black
velvet
in
which
a
Knight
of
the
Garter
is
entitled
to
take
his
walks
abroad.
Then,
with
head
erect,
and
measured
tread,
he
returned
to
the
mirror.
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