Rake's Progress Read Free Page B

squawk. ‘What! Cerry thet beth up them stairs every day!’
    â€˜Maybe he’ll go to the hummums,’ said Rainbird, meaning the Turkish baths in Jermyn Street.
    â€˜Eh hope he falls in and gets drownded,’ said Joseph pettishly. ‘Where’s that servant of his? He should have cleaned some of that mess.’
    â€˜Gone with his master.’
    â€˜Good riddance.’
    Meanwhile, the two friends, shadowed by Manuel, set out to carouse at every well-known establishment in town from the hells of Jermyn Street to the Royal Saloon in Piccadilly, shopping for females as they went. Every time Lord Guy or Mr Roger saw a particularly pretty female of the Fashionable Impure, they handed over cards andsolemnly invited her to a party at 67 Clarges Street the following night. After sampling some of the wares, they settled down to a night of heavy drinking and gambling and ended up reeling through Berkeley Square as a red sun rose over frosty London. The weather had turned cold again.
    Mr Roger keeled over in the grass in the middle of Berkeley Square and fell asleep. Lord Guy, feeling tired and jaded, called over his shoulder for Manuel to go back to the mews and fetch the carriage to take Mr Roger home.
    Lord Guy was strolling past the houses on the west side of the square, when, through an open doorway, he saw a lady standing at the top of the staircase inside the house.
    She was in her undress. She wore a flowing nightgown and a pretty negligee. She had glorious red hair brushed down on her shoulders. There was an oil lamp on a table on the landing where she stood, and it illuminated her calm face and splendid Junoesque figure. The butler, who had left the door open while he got a breath of air, was on the other side of the square and did not notice Lord Guy.
    Lord Guy walked straight into the house and up the stairs. ‘You, madam,’ he said in an awed voice, ‘are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.’
    Her eyes, he noticed dreamily, were a peculiar mixture of blue and green and gold. He had never seen eyes like these before. Very drunk and walking in a dream-world, Lord Guy advanced on the goddess, holding out his arms.
    She never said a word. She raised one beautifully arched foot in its beaded slipper and kicked out with all her force. The blow caught him right at the waistline. He tumbled backwards, down the stairs.
    As he was very drunk, he had not tensed any of his muscles, and so, when he sat up at the foot of the stairs, he was unhurt.
    From a long way off, he could hear bells ringing and feet running. Before the lady’s servants picked him up to throw him out, he caught a glimpse of himself in a long looking-glass in the hall.
    At first he did not recognize the dissipated drunk who stared back at him. When he did, the shock was so great, he let the servants bundle him out into the street without a murmur of protest.
    He reeled home and fell headlong into bed without removing his clothes.
    Rainbird, hearing Mr Roger return, roused Joseph and said wearily they might as well see if they could be of any help. They dressed slowly, neither of them anxious to face their master so soon. When they looked into Mr Roger’s room, he was already sleeping peacefully, having been undressed by Manuel.
    They went down another floor and walked into Lord Guy’s room and stopped short on the threshold. The door had been open, so the Spaniard had not heard them coming. He was standing by the bed, looking down at his master, his face twisted into a mask of hate.
    â€˜Can we help you?’ asked Rainbird.
    Manuel’s face once more resumed its smooth, supercilious expression.
    â€˜No, I thank you,’ he said disdainfully. ‘Close the door behind you when you go.’

TWO

    When I loved you, I can’t but allow
I had many an exquisite minute;
But the scorn that I feel for you now
Hath even more luxury in it.
    Thus, whether we’re on or we’re off,
Some