Chapter 20
"OUR SYMPOSIUM," AS O'HALLORAN CALLED IT.--HIGH AND MIGHTY DISCOURSE. --GENERAL INSPECTION OF ANTIQUITY BY A LEARNED EYE.--A DISCOURSE UPON THE "OIONEESOIZIN" OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.--HOMERIC TRANSLATIONS. --O'HALLORAN AND BURNS.--A NEW EPOCH FOR THE BROGUE.--THE DINNER OF ACHILLES AND THE PALACE OF ANTINOUS.
The servants brought us the generous preparations for the evening --sugar, spoons, hot water, tumblers, and several other things.
O'Halloran began by expressing his gratitude, and saying that Nora could not speak on the subject. He hoped I would see, by that, why it was that she had not answered my questions. Whereupon I hastened to apologize for asking questions which so harshly reminded her of a terrible tragedy. Our mutual explanations were soon exhausted, and we turned to subjects in general.
As our symposium proceeded, O'Halloran grew more and more eloquent, more discursive, more learned, more enthusiastic. He didn't expect me to take any part in the conversation. He was only anxious that I should "take it hot," and keep my pipe and my tumbler well in hand. He was like Coleridge, and Johnson, and other great men who abhor dialogues, and know nothing but monologues.
On this occasion he monologued on the following subjects: The Darwinian hypothesis, the positive philosophy, Protestant missions, temperance societies, Fichte, Leasing, Hegel, Carlyle, mummies, the Apocalypse, Maimonides, John Scotus Erigena, the steam-engine of Hero, the Serapeium, the Dorian Emigration, and the Trojan War. This at last brought him on the subject of Homer.
He paused for a moment here.
"D'ye want to know," said he, "the thrue business of me loife, an' me sowl occupeetion?"
I bowed and gave a feeble smile. I thought of Fenian agencies and a dozen other things, and fancied that in this hour of confidence he would tell all. I had several times wondered why he lived in a place which he hated so, and had a vague idea that he was some kind of a secret emissary, though there was certainly not a single thing in his character which might warrant such a supposition.
"Me object," said O'Halloran, looking solemnly at me, "and the whole eem of me loife is the Oioneesoizin of the language of the Saxon. He's thrust his language on us, an' my eem is to meek it our oun, to illivate it--an' by one schtoopindous illusthreetion to give it a pleece among the letherary doialicts of the wurruld."
"Oioneesoizin?" said I, slowly.
"Yis, Oioneesoizin," said O'Halloran. "An' I'm going to do this by mains of a thransleetion of Homer. For considher. Since Chapman no thransleetion has been made. Pope and Cowper are contimptible. Darby is onraydable. Gladstone's attimpt on the fust buk, an' Mat Arnold's on the seem, an' Worsley's Spinsayrians are all feclures. Ye see, they think only of maythers, an' don't considher doialicts. Homer wrote in the Oionic doialict, an' shud be thranslated into the modern ayquivalint of that same."
"Oh, I see," said I, "but is there such an equivalent?"
"Yis," said he, solemnly. "Ye see, the Scotch doialict has been illivatid into a Doric by the janius of a Burruns; and so loikewise shall the Oirish be illivatid into an Oioneean dolalict by the janius of O'Halloran.
"For Oirish is the natural an' conjayneal ripriseentitive of the ancient Oioneean. It's vowel-sounds, its diphthongs, its shuperabundince of leginds, all show this most pleenly. So, too, if we apploy this modern Oineean to a thransleetion of Homer, we see it has schtoopindous advantages. The Homeric neems, the ipithets, and the woild alterneetion of dacthyls an' spondees, may all be riprisinted boy a neetive and conjayneal mayther. Take for a spicimin _Barny O'Brallaghan_. "Twas on a windy night about two o'clock in the mornin." That is the neetive misure of the Oirish bards, an' is iminiutly adapted to rendher the Homeric swinge. It consists of an Oiambic pinthimitir followed by a dacthylic thripody; an' in rhythm projuices the effects of the dacthylic hixamitir. Compeer wid this the ballad mayther, an' the hayroic mayther, and the Spinserian stanzas, of Worsley, an' Gladstone's Saxon throchaics, and Darby's dull blank verse, an' the litheral prose, an' Mat Arnold's attimpts at hixameters, an' Dain somebody's hindicasyllabics. They're one an' all ayqually contimptible. But in this neetive Oirish loine we have not only doialictic advantages, but also an ameezing number of others. It's the doirict riprisiuteetive of the Homiric loine, fust, in the number of fate; secindly, in the saysural pause; thirdly, in the capaceetee for a dactylic an' spondaic inding, an' fowerthly, in the shuperabundince of sonorous ipithits and rowling syllabeefeeceetions. An' all this I can prove to ye by spicimins of me oun thransleetion."
With this he went to a Davenport at one end of the room, and brought out a pile of manuscript closely written. Then he seated himself again.
"I'll raid ye passages here an' there," said he. "The fust one is the reception of the imbassy by Achilles." Saying this, he took the manuscript and began to read the following in a very rich, broad brogue, which made me think that he cultivated this brogue of his purposely, and out of patriotic motives, from a desire to elevate his loved Irish dialect to an equality with the literary standard English:
"'He spake. Pat Rokles heard, an' didn't dacloine for till do it, But tuk the mate-thray down, an' into the foyre he threw it: A shape's choine an' a goat's he throwed on top of the platter, An' wan from a lovely pig, than which there wor nivir a fatter; Thase O'Tommedon tuk, O'Kelly devoided thim nately, He meed mince-mate av thim all, an' thin he spitted thim swately; To sich entoicin' fud they all extinded their arrams. Till fud and dhrink loikewise had lost their jaynial charrums; Thin Ajax winked at Phaynix, O'Dishes tuke note of it gayly, An' powerin' out some woine, he dhrunk till the health ov O'Kelly.'"
After this he read the description of the palace of Antinous in the "Odyssey:"
"'For benchus heights ov brass aich wee wos firrmlee buildid, From the front dure till the back, an' a nate blue corrinis filled it; An' there was gowldin dures, that tastee dome securin', An' silver posts loikewise that slid the breezin' dure in; An' lovely gowldin dogs the intherrance wee stud fast in, Thim same, H. Phaestus meed, which had a turrun for castin'. Widout that speecious hall there grew a gyardin, be Jakers! A fince purticts that seeme of fower (I think it is) acres.'"
I have but an indistinct recollection of the rest of the evening. If I was not sound asleep, I must have been in a semi-doze, retaining just sufficient consciousness to preserve the air of an absorbed listener. I had nothing but an innumerable multitude of visions, which assumed alternately the shape of Nora and of Marion. When at length I rose to go, O'Halloran begged me to stay longer. But, on looking at my watch, I found it was half-past three, and so suggested in a general way that perhaps I'd better be in bed. Whereupon he informed me that he would not be at home on the following evening, but wouldn't I come the evening after. I told him I'd be very happy. But suddenly I recollected an engagement. "Well, will you be at leisure on the next evening?" said he. I told him I would be, and so I left, with the intention of returning on the third evening from that time.
I got home and went to bed; and in my dreams I renewed the events of that evening. Not the latter part of it, but the former part. There, before me, floated the forms of Nora and of Marion, the one all smiles, the other all gloom--the one all jest and laughter, the other silent and sombre--the one casting at me the glowing light of her soft, innocent, laughing eyes; the other flinging at me from her dark, lustrous orbs glances that pierced my soul. I'm an impressible man, I own it. I can't help it. I was so made. I'm awfully susceptible. And so, 'pon my honor, for the life of me I couldn't tell which I admired most of these two fascinating, bewildering, lovely, bewitching, yet totally different beings. "Oh, Nora!" I cried--and immediately after, "Oh, Marion!"