Stoner

"Yes, sir," Walker said. His face was frozen. "To begin with, the Anglo-Saxon poets, existing as they did in the Dark Ages, did not have the advantages of sensibility as did later poets in the English tradition. Indeed, I should say that their poetry was characterized by primitivism. Nevertheless, within this primitivism there is potential, though perhaps hidden to some eyes, there is potential that subtlety of feeling that is to characterize--"

"Mr. Walker," Stoner said, "I asked for the principles of versification. Can you give them to me?"

"Well, sir," Walker said, "it is very rough and irregular. The versification, I mean."

"Is that all you can tell me about it?"

"Mr. Walker," Lomax said quickly--a little wildly, Stoner thought--"this roughness you speak of--could you account for this, give the--"

"No," Stoner said firmly, looking at no one. "I want my question answered. Is that all you can tell me about Anglo- Saxon versification?"

"Well, sir," Walker said; he smiled, and the smile became a nervous giggle. "Frankly, I haven't had my required course in Anglo-Saxon yet, and I hesitate to discuss such matters without that authority."

"Very well," Stoner said. "Let's skip Anglo-Saxon literature. Can you name for me a medieval drama that had any influence in the development of Renaissance drama?"

Walker nodded. "Of course, all medieval dramas, in their own way, led into the high accomplishment of the Renaissance. It is difficult to realize that out of the barren soil of the Middle Ages the drama of Shakespeare was, only a few years later, to flower and--"

"Mr. Walker, I am asking simple questions. I must insist upon simple answers. I shall make the question even simpler. Name three medieval dramas."

"Early or late, sir?" He had taken his glasses off and was polishing them furiously.

"Any three, Mr. Walker."

"There are so many," Walker said. "It's difficult to-- There's Everyman ..."

"Can you name any more?"

"No, sir," Walker said. "I must confess to a weakness in the areas that you--"

"Can you name any other titles--just the titles--of any of the literary works of the Middle Ages?"

Walker's hands were trembling. "As I have said, sir, I must confess to a weakness in--"

"Then we shall go on to the Renaissance. What genre do you feel most confident of in this period, Mr. Walker?"

"The"--Walker hesitated and despite himself looked supplicatingly at Lomax--"the poem, sir. Or--the drama. The drama, perhaps."

"The drama then. What is the first blank verse tragedy in English, Mr. Walker?"

'"The first?" Walker licked his lips. "Scholarship is divided on the question, sir. I should hesitate to--"

"Can you name any drama of significance before Shakespeare?"

"Certainly, sir," Walker said. "There's Marlowe--the mighty line--"

"Name some plays of Marlowe."

With an effort Walker pulled himself together. "There is, of course, the justly famous Dr. Faust. And--and the--The Jew of Malfi."

"Faustus and The Jew of Malta. Can you name any more?"

"Frankly, sir, those are the only two plays that I have had a chance to reread in the last year or so. So I would prefer not to--"

"All right. Tell me something about The Jew of Malta."

"Mr. Walker," Lomax cried out. "If I may broaden the question a bit. If you will--"

"No!" Stoner said grimly, not looking at Lomax. "I want answers to my questions. Mr. Walker?"

Walker said desperately, "Marlowe's mighty line--"

"Let's forget about the 'mighty line,'" Stoner said wearily. "What happens in the play?"

"Well," Walker said a little wildly, "Marlowe is attacking the problem of anti-Semitism as it manifested itself in the early sixteenth century. The sympathy, I might even say, the profound sympathy--"

"Never mind, Mr. Walker. Let's go on to--"

Lomax shouted, "Let the candidate answer the question! Give him time to answer at least."

"Very well," Stoner said mildly. "Do you wish to continue with your answer, Mr. Walker?"

Walker hesitated for a moment. "No, sir," he said.

Relentlessly Stoner continued his questioning. What had been an anger and outrage that included both Walker and Lomax became a kind of pity and sick regret that included them too. After a while it seemed to Stoner that he had gone outside himself, and it was as if he heard a voice going on and on, impersonal and deadly.

At last he heard the voice say, "All right, Mr. Walker. Your period of specialization is the nineteenth century. You seem to know little about the literature of earlier centuries; perhaps you will feel more at ease among the Romantic poets."

He tried not to look at Walker's face, but he could not prevent his eyes from rising now and then to see the round, staring mask that faced him with a cold, pale malevolence. Walker nodded curtly.

"You are familiar with Lord Byron's more important poems, are you not?"

"Of course," Walker said.

"Then would you care to comment upon 'English Bards and Scottish Reviewers?'"