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Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
94
The
fact
was
that
the
Judas
boat
had
just
bumped
Univ.,
exactly
opposite
the
Judas
barge.
The
oarsmen
in
either
boat
sat
humped,
panting,
some
of
them
rocking
and
writhing,
after
their
wholesome
exercise.
But
there
was
not
one
of
them
whose
eyes
were
not
upcast
at
Zuleika.
And
the
vocalisation
and
instrumentation
of
the
dancers
and
stampers
on
the
towing-path
had
by
this
time
ceased
to
mean
aught
of
joy
in
the
victors
or
of
comfort
for
the
vanquished,
and
had
resolved
itself
into
a
wild
wordless
hymn
to
the
glory
of
Miss
Dobson.
Behind
her
and
all
around
her
on
the
roof
of
the
barge,
young
Judasians
were
venting
in
like
manner
their
hearts
through
their
lungs.
She
paid
no
heed.
It
was
as
if
she
stood
alone
with
her
lover
on
some
silent
pinnacle
of
the
world.
It
was
as
if
she
were
a
little
girl
with
a
brand-new
and
very
expensive
doll
which
had
banished
all
the
little
other
old
toys
from
her
mind.
She
simply
could
not,
in
her
naive
rapture,
take
her
eyes
off
her
companion.
To
the
dancers
and
stampers
of
the
towing-path,
many
of
whom
were
now
being
ferried
back
across
the
river,
and
to
the
other
youths
on
the
roof
of
the
barge,
Zuleika’s
air
of
absorption
must
have
seemed
a
little
strange.
For
already
the
news
that
the
Duke
loved
Zuleika,
and
that
she
loved
him
not,
and
would
stoop
to
no
man
who
loved
her,
had
spread
like
wild-fire
among
the
undergraduates.
The
two
youths
in
whom
the
Duke
had
deigned
to
confide
had
not
held
their
peace.
And
the
effect
that
Zuleika
had
made
as
she
came
down
to
the
river
was
intensified
by
the
knowledge
that
not
the
great
paragon
himself
did
she
deem
worthy
of
her.
The
mere
sight
of
her
had
captured
young
Oxford.
The
news
of
her
supernal
haughtiness
had
riveted
the
chains.
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