We all applauded this resolution—all except Croaker, who I saw was fast asleep, and Max, who found the translation unsatisfactory. Dr. Sear especially commended Taliped’s statement, declaring however that in his mind its appeal came from the fact that it was precisely this high-minded vow that would be the Dean’s undoing, according to the laws of tragedy. Taliped and his brother-in-law left the stage now, by way of the Deanery door, and the committee of department-heads and vice-administrators dispersed to right and left, but reassembled again a moment later, facing us in a line, just as I was about to inquire further into the laws of tragedy, which I was unfamiliar with.
“This is the
párodos
,” Sear whispered. “They sing and dance.”
As I had heard of dancing before but never seen any except in Stoker’s Living Room, I attended the line of committeemen with interest. First
they stepped sideways to the left, in unison, singing in a kind of chant and taking one step to each accented beat of the rhythm:
O Founder all-potent and -wise.
Who sees with unspectacled eyes:
You must see that we’re
All spitless with fear
Since You laid on this latest surprise
.
They then danced back again in the same manner, regaining their original position at the end of a stanza equal in length to the first:
To You, Sir, we come for advice
,
Because
(
like we said
)
You’re so wise
.
You rescued us once, Sir
,
From the jaws of the monster;
For pity’s sake rescue us twice
.
These separate dances Dr. Sear called
strophes
and
antistrophes
, and he excused the committee’s bad grammar on the grounds that probably no more than one member was from the Language and Literature Department. There were two other pairs of stanzas:
Cadmus College is half down the drain:
[
STROPHE
2
The drop-outs are dropping like rain;
Tuition’s outrageous;
The kids are rampageous;
And all people do is complain
.
No wisdom or virtue survives:
[
ANTISTROPHE
2
Small boys prowl the streets with large knives
.
Student morals are looser:
What they do when they woo, Sir
,
We don’t even do with our wives
.
“What do you suppose that could be?” asked Peter Greene, but no one answered him. The committee’s complaint greatly moved the audience, many of whom murmured assent or blew their noses into paper tissues.
All classes of woes seem to ail us;
[
STROPHE
3
For pity’s sake pass us or fail us!
Things look pretty quiet
,
But we’re all set to riot
Against these dark foes that assail us
.
On this strophe the dance had been rearwards; now in the closing antistrophe the committee marched forward, its voice rising strongly over the burst of applause from the spectators:
Our enemy’s strong, and he’s clever
, [
ANTISTROPHE
3
And we’re fairly stupid. However
,
We hope that our Founder’ll
Search out the scoundrel
And flunk him forever and ever!
So great was the response to this last supplication that although Taliped reappeared from the Deanery door in time to hear it, and raised his hand for silence, it was some time before he could make himself heard.
“Conservative hysteria,” Max grumbled. “Always leads to persecution.”
“Now comes the first
episode
,” Sear whispered to me. The audience grew quiet.
| TALIPED: | Come on; there’s no use moaning to the Founder. Let’s put our own IQ’s to work. It’s sounder and also more reliable . |
“I’ll say it is,” Max said.
| TALIPED: | Now look: it seems to me the surest way to hook the fish we’re after is to make it clear that anyone can speak up without fear who has a tip of any sort. I won’t ask why he didn’t speak up sooner; don’t fear that. But on the other hand, by gum, if any prof or student knows the bum who turned my wife’s first husband off, he’d better come across, in person or by letter: the penalty for silence is suspension. The killer of the old dean ( not to mention his stenographer and other lackeys ) will suffer more: his punishment, in fact, is going to be total flunkage and expulsion from the College. Such is my revulsion for deanicide, I won’t hesitate to drive the rascal out myself; I hate him in advance! Even if it should turn out to be a relative, I would put it to him without mercy. I’m as hot and bothered over this old crime as if I’d seen it happen. Can you hear this vow I’m vowing, you folks in the rear? I couldn’t more despise the killer had he killed, not my predecessor, but my daddy! |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | [Aside] At least he talks a good investigation, and vows a pretty vow. In Proclamation One, an undergraduate course, we teach that sort of thing . [ TO TALIPED ] |
| | Look here, I’ll swear no speech-professor’s guilty of the deed, or of withholding evidence . |
| TALIPED: | Because they love to talk, but not to act. What’s on your mind? |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | This, sir: Was the Proph-prof disinclined to give your brother-in-law the killer’s name, or didn’t he know it? |
| TALIPED: | Beats me . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | I don’t blame him, understand; he’s not a bad advisor. I wonder, though, if it might not be wiser in this case to get all the help we can . |
| TALIPED: | A stunning inspiration. What’s your plan? |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Let’s call in Gynander, the Proph-prof Emeritus. That old boy knows his stuff, you must admit—although you think he’s swishy . |
| TALIPED: | Think, man! I know there’s something fishy about that guy. You’ve heard the standard tale—how he was male at first and then female, and then turned male again. That was his brag, at least. Myself, I think the guy’s a faggot. But never mind: we deans soon learn to work with every sort of crank and queer and quirk; if I cashiered for moral turpitude adulterers and faggots—those who’ve screwed their colleagues’ wives, or shacked up with each other, or humped their dog, their sister, or their mother— |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Mother? Blah! |
| TALIPED: | —I’d lose four out of five of my best men. So what I say is, “Swive away, my friends! Be cocksmen, dykes, or fairies—but stay out of the pants of secretaries, and please don’t lay your students.” |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | That seems just . |
| TALIPED: | Now, speaking of Gynander: I don’t trust the blind old fag as far as I could throw him, but I told my brother-in-law to go and fetch him anyhow, to please you birds. Here he comes now, right on cue . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | His words of prophecy are always good . |
| TALIPED: | For a laugh . |
A youngster now led onstage an old man with a stick, who except that his beard had a tint of henna looked even more like Max than did the Committee Chairman.
“There’s
my
Grand Tutor!” Dr. Sear exclaimed. “Give me Gynander, and you can keep your Enos Enoch.”
| TALIPED: | [ TO GYNANDER ] Hello there, old blind Proph-prof with a staff! How’s by you? I guess you wonder why we took you out of mothballs, huh? |
| GYNANDER: | [Looks around until he locates voice] |
| | Oh, hi . |
| TALIPED: | On second thought, you know without my telling you, unless it’s true that you’ve been selling us a bill of goods. At Founder’s Hall they speak of you as Doctor Know-It-All: how come you didn’t know we were in trouble and hustle yourself down here on the double? Ah well, forget it. Do your hocus-pocus, if you please, and tell us who the bloke is that we’re after . |
| GYNANDER: | Goodness gracious me. It isn’t any fun at all to see the Answers when they’re always such bad news! How could I have forgotten that ? Excuse me, Taliped, my dear; I hope you’ll let us go now . [ TO BOY ] Lead me home again, my pet . |
| TALIPED: | Oh no you don’t! Hold on there, sonny boy! Now listen here, Gynander: don’t be coy with me. I see your racket: you allow as how you know some deep dark truth, then vow it’s much too terrible to tell. Your tracks are nicely covered, aren’t they? |
| GYNANDER: | One who lacks eyes may see what sharp-eyed deans are blind to . |
| TALIPED: | Is that a fact! By George, I’ve half a mind to haul you in for obstructing justice. That would fix you! If you weren’t blind as a bat I’d say you knocked off Dean Labdakides yourself! |
| GYNANDER: | [Aside] And he calls me blind! When he sees the flunking mess he’s in, he’ll see he’s blinder! |
| TALIPED: | Proph-prof—ha! When that old bitch resigned her bloody post as College Entrance Riddler, it wasn’t you who’d found out how to diddle her, was it? No indeed! You had to wait till Taliped Decanus reached the gate, didn’t you? I had no crystal ball or magic charms like Doctor Know-It-All; brains were all I had, man! When she said: “Answer this question quickly, or you’re dead: What mother eats up all her children, hey?” I didn’t dance in circles; I didn’t say: “I know the answer, ma’am, but it’s outlandish, so I won’t tell it.” She’d have made a sandwich out of me if I’d pulled those old tricks! Intelligence was what it took to fix her wagon! I said, “Nothing to it, Grampus: the mom that eats her kids is Mother Campus—matter of fact, she’s having you for supper!” |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | [Aside] “Hearing this, the fearsome beast threw up her paws and died as if a spear were in her heart,” et cetera. I’ll throw up my dinner if I have to hear that bragging tale again . |
| TALIPED: | No clairvoyance, Gynander: just my brain, my passèd human brain—that’s what it took! |
| GYNANDER: | Then use your passèd brain to find the crook, since you’re so good at riddles. Here’s a clue: Know yourself. Begin your search with you. You’ll see the man you’re after in a mirror; take your falseface off—you’ll see him clearer . |
| TALIPED: | We see a flunking traitor; that’s what we see! A nasty, scheming, blind old AC/DC traitor to the College! My wife’s brother’s in cahoots with you, I’ll bet—and others too, no doubt. I see your pretty plot: you’ll pin the rap on me, and when you’ve got me banished from the place, my brother-in-law and you will be co-deans. I never saw such flunkèdness! |
| GYNANDER: | Your brother-in-law’s a fool, but you’re a nut. When this play’s over you’ll regret you made that silly vow of yours. You tragic-hero types are bloody bores. Who are you, Taliped? Say who your dad was! Where were you born? Why’d you come to Cadmus? Why marry Agenora and no other—a woman old enough to be your mother? Labdakides himself could hardly stand her! You’re the blind one, Dean; not old Gynander . |
| TALIPED: | Be glad you’re old; I’d have your derrière on a platter if you weren’t old, you fairy! Because I haven’t bragged about my past, sir, you make me out to be some nameless bastard, and tell me it’s unnatural to enjoy a woman who is—well , mature … |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | [Aside] |
| | Oh boy , that gal’s mature, all right! Poor Agenora—she’d be senile if she were maturer! |
| TALIPED: | [ TO GYNANDER ] There seems to be no end to your affronts and dark insinuations! |
| GYNANDER: | Let me once again declare, more clearly than before, the ugly answer to our problems: You’re the wretch you want. You’ll see, when Scene Four’s |
| | done , that you’re your daughter’s brother, your own stepson and foster-father, uncle to your cousin, your brother-in-law’s nephew, and ( as if that wasn’t enough ) a parricide—and matriphile! Bye-bye now, Taliped. You call me vile, but your two crimes will have us all upchucking: father-murdering and mother— |
| TALIPED: | Ducking out won’t save you! You’ll hear from me! |
| GYNANDER: | You killed your daddy . |
| TALIPED: | No! |
| GYNANDER: | You shagged your mommy . |