youths and maidens'--you remember Gautier's words--'moving across a
background of deep blue as on the frieze of the Parthenon.' I began to
read Greek eagerly for love of it all, and the more I read the more I
was enthralled:
Oh what golden hours were for us
As we sat together there,
While the white vests of the chorus
Seemed to wave up a light air;
While the cothurns trod majestic
Down the deep iambic lines
And the rolling anapaestics
Curled like vapour over shrines.
"The head master was always holding my brother Willie up to me as an
example; but even he admitted that in my last year at Portora I had
made astounding progress. I laid the foundation there of whatever
classical scholarship I possess."
It occurred to me once to ask Oscar in later years whether the
boarding school life of a great, public school was not responsible for
a good deal of sensual viciousness.
"Englishmen all say so," he replied, "but it did not enter into my
experience. I was very childish, Frank; a mere boy till I was over
sixteen. Of course I was sensual and curious, as boys are, and had
the usual boy imaginings; but I did not indulge in them excessively.
"At Portora nine out of ten boys only thought of football or cricket
or rowing. Nearly every one went in for athletics--running and jumping
and so forth; no one appeared to care for sex. We were healthy young
barbarians and that was all."
"Did you go in for games?" I asked.
"No," Oscar replied smiling, "I never liked to kick or be kicked."
"Surely you went about with some younger boy, did you not, to whom you
told your dreams and hopes, and whom you grew to care for?"
The question led to an intimate personal confession, which may take
its place here.
"It is strange you should have mentioned it," he said. "There was one
boy, and," he added slowly, "one peculiar incident. It occurred in my
last year at Portora. The boy was a couple of years younger than I--we
were great friends; we used to take long walks together and I talked
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