PART THREE:
First Appearance of the Gadfly. The Spider’s Warning: The Junker is Junk. An Unsuitable Suitor?
The Fly giggled. It was uncharacteristic of her. Suddenly she spun around and began a hurried preening of her bedraggled extremities.
The newcomer clearly had eyes in his head. He took in the lie of the land in a flash and looked sharply at the Spider hanging in his web.
-Nice threads, he nodded with a touch of ambiguity, and immediately and not without a hint of gallantry addressed himself to the Fly.
-Gnädige Frau, he said, inclining his head in a teutonicly snappy gesture, - how delighted I am to discover you!
He raised his gaze and turning his eyes like a heliotrope in her direction, winked salaciously through a thousand polished monocles.
-Well, thought the Fly, -who is this then?
-I, said the newcomer, with the riposte of a sabre wielding Captain of the Hussars, -am the Gadfly.
He emerged now completely from the rush stalks and bowed again, this time a full and aristocratic bending from the waist accompanied by some elegant and sophisticatedly incomprehensible hand ballet. It was as if flattery enough to enchant a whole hareem was being lavishly fanned towards a single individual.
The Fly was aware of a crushing beauty. The Gadfly smiled out from a stern and muscular visage, moustachioed to the hilt. He wore a gleaming black neckerchief studded with what appeared to be diamond pins. Below this his wrestler’s chest bulged beneath a turquoise breastplate from which dangled an extraordinary array of brightly coloured ribbons and important looking medals. Fine veined wings of opal hue, antennae of iridescent gauze and a blue flashing cloak which winked and shimmered like a lighthouse against the shadows of the rush bed completed this first, and in the Fly’s opinion, very favourable impression.
It seemed to the Fly that the sun was suddenly brighter, the air sweeter and the musty woodland smells more enticing than they had ever been before.
The Spider, however, hanging grumpily in his glossy web, grimaced.
-There is not much to this one, he muttered, under his breath.
-He’s all blab and no pig meat. There is not even a bite here to feed the body, and as for feeding the soul, well, this flyboy is nothing but armour and certificates. No juice in his flesh. No broth in his bones. I think he’d be better off as fish food.
A heavy plop resounded from the pool below. It appeared the ruby carp agreed.
-Take care, Fly, said the Spider with gravity. –Be cautious and keep your wits close! Mother Nature is a singular mother. On Monday if she wants porridge for breakfast she’ll suck out her own children’s brains!
–Brains, said the Fly looking round at him in alarm. -Ugh! And what do this single mother do Tuesdays?
-If you are not coming to dinner, said the Fly irritably, go and read the scandal sheets yourself.
-What for? said the Fly.
-They will tell you, said the Spider impatiently, -that Nature is red in tooth and claw.
-Well read, he repeated, -in both tooth and in claw! And if you can’t read, he added patronisingly, -forget the paper. Just open those bug-eyes of yours and look about you!
For a moment the Fly abandoned her appraisal of the Gadfly and looked about her doubtfully. However she was finding it increasingly hard to keep her attention from creeping back to the newcomer.
The Spider paused and added testily -and please, do stop ogling that loathsome warble fly! Didn’t your interfering mother tell you to beware of a suitor who wears his heart on his sleeve? Everyone knows it is a totally inappropriate location for a heart.
He went on. – I despair! This place is no a place for a Thinker. Civilisation has passed it by. Look! The uncultivated natives of the vicinity all have mouths in perfect working order. Yet do they ever think about the amazing capabilities inherent in that breathtaking piece of divine engineering?
-They don’t, I’m sure, said the Fly, taking a deep breath, and trying to fathom what on earth he was talking about. All this talk of claws and teeth made her wonder if the Dragonfly really had gone for good.
The Spider twanged angrily on a strand of his cobweb.
-The sinuous and explosive delights of language when put to the task of prising open the secrets of creation! Of unlocking the mysteries of the gods! Let alone all the rhetoric and the poetry!
-The hat trick and the pottery, echoed the Fly vaguely, trying to catch up. But she was now beginning to fidget. It was unlike her to bother her head with etiquette, but it did seem that the Gadfly was now being rudely neglected.
-They don’t, she repeated, hoping that that might be the end of it.
-No, Fly, you are right, barked the Spider, -they DON’T. These gross and wriggling slime-pit peasants all around us use their pitiful apologies for a mouth only for one thing! For EATING!
The Fly jumped, and looked across at the Gadfly impatiently. But her impatience was nothing compared with that of her newfound suitor. His mouth, far from gasping for food, was quivering with the need to get a word in edgeways.
First Appearance of the Gadfly. The Spider’s Warning: The Junker is Junk. An Unsuitable Suitor?
The Fly giggled. It was uncharacteristic of her. Suddenly she spun around and began a hurried preening of her bedraggled extremities.
The newcomer clearly had eyes in his head. He took in the lie of the land in a flash and looked sharply at the Spider hanging in his web.
-Nice threads, he nodded with a touch of ambiguity, and immediately and not without a hint of gallantry addressed himself to the Fly.
-Gnädige Frau, he said, inclining his head in a teutonicly snappy gesture, - how delighted I am to discover you!
He raised his gaze and turning his eyes like a heliotrope in her direction, winked salaciously through a thousand polished monocles.
-Well, thought the Fly, -who is this then?
-I, said the newcomer, with the riposte of a sabre wielding Captain of the Hussars, -am the Gadfly.
He emerged now completely from the rush stalks and bowed again, this time a full and aristocratic bending from the waist accompanied by some elegant and sophisticatedly incomprehensible hand ballet. It was as if flattery enough to enchant a whole hareem was being lavishly fanned towards a single individual.
The Fly was aware of a crushing beauty. The Gadfly smiled out from a stern and muscular visage, moustachioed to the hilt. He wore a gleaming black neckerchief studded with what appeared to be diamond pins. Below this his wrestler’s chest bulged beneath a turquoise breastplate from which dangled an extraordinary array of brightly coloured ribbons and important looking medals. Fine veined wings of opal hue, antennae of iridescent gauze and a blue flashing cloak which winked and shimmered like a lighthouse against the shadows of the rush bed completed this first, and in the Fly’s opinion, very favourable impression.
It seemed to the Fly that the sun was suddenly brighter, the air sweeter and the musty woodland smells more enticing than they had ever been before.
The Spider, however, hanging grumpily in his glossy web, grimaced.
-There is not much to this one, he muttered, under his breath.
-He’s all blab and no pig meat. There is not even a bite here to feed the body, and as for feeding the soul, well, this flyboy is nothing but armour and certificates. No juice in his flesh. No broth in his bones. I think he’d be better off as fish food.
A heavy plop resounded from the pool below. It appeared the ruby carp agreed.
-Take care, Fly, said the Spider with gravity. –Be cautious and keep your wits close! Mother Nature is a singular mother. On Monday if she wants porridge for breakfast she’ll suck out her own children’s brains!
–Brains, said the Fly looking round at him in alarm. -Ugh! And what do this single mother do Tuesdays?
-If you are not coming to dinner, said the Fly irritably, go and read the scandal sheets yourself.
-What for? said the Fly.
-They will tell you, said the Spider impatiently, -that Nature is red in tooth and claw.
-Well read, he repeated, -in both tooth and in claw! And if you can’t read, he added patronisingly, -forget the paper. Just open those bug-eyes of yours and look about you!
For a moment the Fly abandoned her appraisal of the Gadfly and looked about her doubtfully. However she was finding it increasingly hard to keep her attention from creeping back to the newcomer.
The Spider paused and added testily -and please, do stop ogling that loathsome warble fly! Didn’t your interfering mother tell you to beware of a suitor who wears his heart on his sleeve? Everyone knows it is a totally inappropriate location for a heart.
He went on. – I despair! This place is no a place for a Thinker. Civilisation has passed it by. Look! The uncultivated natives of the vicinity all have mouths in perfect working order. Yet do they ever think about the amazing capabilities inherent in that breathtaking piece of divine engineering?
-They don’t, I’m sure, said the Fly, taking a deep breath, and trying to fathom what on earth he was talking about. All this talk of claws and teeth made her wonder if the Dragonfly really had gone for good.
The Spider twanged angrily on a strand of his cobweb.
-The sinuous and explosive delights of language when put to the task of prising open the secrets of creation! Of unlocking the mysteries of the gods! Let alone all the rhetoric and the poetry!
-The hat trick and the pottery, echoed the Fly vaguely, trying to catch up. But she was now beginning to fidget. It was unlike her to bother her head with etiquette, but it did seem that the Gadfly was now being rudely neglected.
-They don’t, she repeated, hoping that that might be the end of it.
-No, Fly, you are right, barked the Spider, -they DON’T. These gross and wriggling slime-pit peasants all around us use their pitiful apologies for a mouth only for one thing! For EATING!
The Fly jumped, and looked across at the Gadfly impatiently. But her impatience was nothing compared with that of her newfound suitor. His mouth, far from gasping for food, was quivering with the need to get a word in edgeways.
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