shadow of britain

Chapter 731: English literature is worth one stone, and Sir Arthur alone has eight
The dinner was held in an elegantly decorated dining room in the West Wing of Kensington Palace.

The candlelight flickered in the room, the exquisite silverware and ceramics reflected a warm luster under the light, and the crackling of firewood in the fireplace dispelled the coolness of the London night.

The crimson wallpaper sets off an oil painting hanging behind the main seat. It is a portrait of the young Duke of Kent. He is dressed in red and blue military uniform, with a confident and decisive look. However, the former most talkative prince has now become the silentest person in the room.

The Duchess of Kent sat in the middle of the long table, Victoria was next to her, and Arthur was placed on the opposite side of her.

The three young ladies of the von Bulow family were seated at a farther distance, accompanied and looked after by Mrs. Leitzen, apparently to prevent the dinner from being too noisy.

The dishes were served one by one, from the appetizers of venison jelly and pan-fried foie gras with black currant sauce to the main course of roast pigeon and candied radish. The Duchess's thoughts were reflected in each dish, which met the palace standards without appearing overly luxurious.

In order to welcome Arthur's arrival, the Duchess of Kent put a lot of thought into the choice of meals.

Over the past week, she had sent people to conduct a detailed investigation into Arthur's family background and upbringing, just as Arthur had done to her before.

As the saying goes, a prime minister must come from the state, and a brave general must come from the ranks. Sir Arthur Hastings is a representative of this type of people.

As a farm boy from rural York, he has worked his way up to his current position step by step.

For someone with such a growth experience, even if you have conflicting opinions with him, you have to admire his legendary experience.

From an inconspicuous farmer to a gold medalist at the University of London, his future was originally bright, but due to the bad economic situation, he could only work as an unknown street patrolman.

But Sir Arthur Hastings did not give up. Instead, after his speech in court, he finally "soared up into the sky like a roc with the wind."

From Scotland Yard's star officer, to the new tsar of Police Intelligence, to a gunshot at the Tower of London.

He then opened up a new battlefield at the University of Göttingen and was transferred to St. Petersburg by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs due to his outstanding work.

Unfortunately, this experience in Russia was just like the previous two times. Just as his fate was getting better, he was dragged into uncontrollable events.

Although he is only 25 years old this year, he has experienced three ups and downs in his life. The scars at the corners of his eyes and the bullet marks on his chest are enough to show how colorful his life experience is and how strong his heart is.

This young man is very unfortunate, but this does not prevent him from always smiling and saying, "Thank God, I am very lucky in my life" whenever he talks about his past experiences.

And when he talks about his failures, he always quotes Napoleon's famous saying: "Your Highness, as Napoleon said: 'The glory of life is not to never fail, but to be able to rise again and again after repeated failures.' I respect losers as I respect winners. Although the results are different, I think both have the same noble character."

After the Duchess of Kent learned about Arthur's upbringing, she had already taken a liking to the young man.

But after getting close to him, she discovered that Sir Arthur Hastings himself was even better than what was written in the report!

This young man is not just an ordinary "ambitious" person, nor is he the kind of political drifter who only relies on opportunism to get to the top.

The open-mindedness he developed through many setbacks was not disguised arrogance, but an aura of strength that came from within.

And this kind of strong aura can make people feel most at ease.

The Duchess of Kent paused after putting down the silver knife and said slowly, "You are so young, but you can already look at failure in this way. I don't mean to compliment you, but you are indeed the most mature young person I have ever met."

Hearing this, Arthur smiled and responded: "Your Highness, thank you for your compliment, but if there is anything worthy of praise in me, I would rather attribute it to the education I received from the University of London."

The Duchess of Kent asked with a smile: "So, are all graduates from the University of London as gentlemen as you?"

Hearing this, Arthur suddenly remembered an old friend who was enjoying a fantasy cruise on the Pacific Ocean. He suddenly felt a chill down his spine and shivered unusually.

Fortunately, he immediately recalled another famous alumnus of the University of London: "Alfred Tennyson, an outstanding poet comparable to Coleridge and Wordsworth. In any case, I am inferior to him."

"Hmm... Mr. Tennyson, in all its splendor and sadness."

The Duchess of Kent recited the classic lines from Tennyson's masterpiece "In Memoriam" published two years ago: "At this time I knew that a transparent mist, like a veil, covered the land of my country, and your nameplate in the dark church was faintly revealed in the dawn..."

Arthur couldn't help blushing when he heard this.

Indeed, Tennyson's elegy was excellent, and Arthur was even willing to crown his young friend the king of English elegy. He was also very grateful to Tennyson for cherishing their friendship and was willing to treat him as a lifelong friend.

However, as Arthur was the object of Tennyson's mourning, it is inevitable that he would feel embarrassed when he heard these poems again after his resurrection from the dead.

But the Duchess of Kent, who was unaware of the situation, sang another Tennyson masterpiece without caring: "Come, but not in the sleepless night, but in the warm daylight, come, the beauty of your dead body, like the best, the light of light."

The Red Devil, who had been holding back his words, saw that the topic had fallen into the field of knowledge under his control, and he also followed suit in a sarcastic tone and chanted in Arthur's ear: "Come, but don't pick the flaming morning glow, pick a rainy afternoon, with an umbrella breaking and the wind raging. Although your body after death is not too ugly, it is like a boot with mud on the sole, losing its luster. I dreamed of being knighted, but I finally fell downstairs, and the newspapers were too lazy to use exaggerated words. 'Brave? Maybe.' Others sneered, 'But your death is so bad that even the devil says it is not worth applauding.'"

Upon hearing this, Arthur immediately looked at the gloating Agares with murderous eyes. He opened his mouth but made no sound. However, judging from the shape of his lips, it should be: "You are so talented, why can't you come up with the next part of The Hastings Mysteries?"

Victoria, who was originally depressed because of the unpleasantness before the meal, couldn't help but exclaimed in fascination when she heard this beautiful poem: "Beautiful! Mom, can I read Mr. Tennyson's poetry collection in the future?"

Seeing that her daughter had finally shown the performance of a lady, the Duchess of Kent nodded slightly and said, "Of course, Mr. Tennyson is a gentleman praised by Sir Arthur. Reading more of his poetry will only do you good."

With Elder Carter's life-changing adventure in front and Alfred Lord Tennyson's mourning prayers behind, coupled with Agares's mental blow, Arthur, who saw that things were about to slide into an uncontrollable direction, finally could no longer sit still.

He interrupted everyone's pursuit of poetry in an unromantic way: "I think..."

Before Arthur finished speaking, the Duchess of Kent raised her hand gracefully and said, "I remember that you once published a set of "Hastings Detective Cases". I heard people praise it at the tea party of the Allmark Club. They said it was "not only wonderful, but also more real than the files of the Ministry of Internal Affairs".

Arthur coughed dryly. He didn't dare to reply now, so he could only wave his hand awkwardly: "Your Highness, thank you for the compliment. It's just a work I wrote in my spare time. It has no literary value and is far inferior to Mr. Tennyson."

"No need to be modest." The Duchess stared at him. "Since you have such literary talent, I think it would be better for you to teach Victorian poetry and rhetoric instead."

"Me?" Arthur was stunned for a moment, but in order to end the topic as soon as possible, he had to laugh it off: "If Her Royal Highness is willing to listen to my humble opinion, then it is my duty."

"That's great!" Victoria nodded in agreement when she heard her mother was going to appoint this knight who impressed her at first sight to teach literature. "I also want to write poems, long ones, like 'The dawn kisses goodbye to the lonely forest path'."

Agares chuckled quietly, "It sounds more like 'The dawn kissed the hunters in the woods, and then my dear Arthur was kissed to the footsteps'."

Arthur glared at him, then turned to the Duchess of Kent, only to find her staring at him intently.

"But, Sir Arthur," said the Duchess of Kent, "while we are on the subject of poetry, I remember one thing."

She put down her goblet, drank a glass of wine, and her tone became much lighter: "I remember that some time ago, Tennyson said in an interview that the most memorable failure in his life was when he was defeated by a young man named 'Arthur Sigmar' in a poetry competition at Cambridge University."

There was a sudden silence at the table.

Gabriele, the eldest daughter of the von Bulow family, looked up and said thoughtfully, "Yes, I remember this too. He said that although the man later changed his career and did something else, he was very talented in poetry. The poem "Farewell to Cambridge" in the Cambridge University Poetry Competition was amazing."

Adelaide blushed and looked at Arthur: "Sir, I remember your pen name is Arthur Sigma, right? You are not the one..."

Arthur's eyes twitched slightly. He took a deep breath. He could not find a way out, so he had to learn from his mistakes and admit the old debt: "'Sigma' is indeed my pen name. That year I happened to be passing through Cambridge on business, so I submitted a manuscript. I didn't expect that they would take it seriously." "So..." The Duchess of Kent's expression changed from initial astonishment to expectation: "You are the 'Anonymous' who defeated Tennyson?"

"I don't think of it as a defeat." Arthur smiled bitterly.

He now wished he could cross the Pacific Ocean to strangle Elder. If it weren't for Elder, he wouldn't have fallen into this topic trap. Even if he fell into the topic trap, if Elder hadn't instigated him to submit his work to the Cambridge Poetry Competition, he wouldn't have come up with such a crap "A Farewell to Cambridge".

Arthur racked his brains to think about how to cover up his lie: "Tennyson later wrote "In Memoriam" and "Ulysses", and I wrote several reports on the law and order situation in London. In terms of word count, I may have won, but in terms of literature, I probably lost a century."

"You are too modest." The Duchess was now completely immersed in the joy of picking up a treasure: "Tonight, since we are fortunate enough to meet the poet who defeated Tennyson, how about asking you to recite one of your representative works on the spot?"

"Yes, yes!" Little Caroline urged with her usual enthusiasm: "Please recite a favorite song of yours! I want to memorize it and take it back to Berlin to recite it to my grandfather and great-uncle."

Arthur wanted to decline, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Agares resting his chin on his hand, gloating as he imitated his previous gesture and mouthed to him, "If all else fails, I'll just sing your song 'Goose Goose Goose'. It's perfect for dinner."

Arthur was so excited that he suddenly became excited.

He was not much of a poet, but that didn't mean he had no talent. Especially after participating in so many internal discussions at the Limey Club, he just happened to have a poem that had been commented on by Tennyson and was barely presentable.

Arthur stood up slowly with his glass in hand, his voice was not loud, but it carried the aura that was often heard in the interrogation room of Scotland Yard.

"He came without a sound, and left without a trace,

Leaving behind a lot of bad reputation and a room full of dust.

He does not lie, and is never true,
I like to say with laughter, just a passerby.

He was most afraid of the sunlight shining on his face.
But I love to appear by the swaying candlelight.

If someone asks him where he came from,
He then sighed: I taught King Solomon.

He is not drunk with wine, but with words.

It doesn't need a position, but it always occupies the center.

If I see him sneaking in with the wind tonight,
Please let him know: it is a good time, don’t bother him.”

Arthur finished reciting, raised his glass and took a sip, his expression gentle and elegant, but what he thought in his heart was: "Finally I got through it."

There was a moment of silence at the table, and then Victoria was the first to applaud. She asked with bright eyes, "Mom, who do you think Sir Arthur is talking about? Peake in A Midsummer Night's Dream?"

"I have taught King Solomon... If someone dares to say such a thing, unless he is a rebellious person, then..." The Duchess of Kent chuckled: "Is this poem written about a holy spirit in the Bible?"

Caroline from the von Bulow family happily raised her hand and answered: "I think it's more like the owl spirit in Faust!"

Adelaide corrected her sister unsatisfiedly: "No! Caroline, that's not an owl spirit. The owl is an image of death."

Gabriele pondered for a moment, then nodded slightly to agree with his sister's opinion: "I also think it is "Faust", but it should not be about the god of death, because Sir Arthur mentioned 'He tells no lies, and is never true', which means he is a liar, and the lord also said 'He sighed: I taught King Solomon', which symbolizes the role of a mentor. No matter how you think about it, Sir Arthur should be writing about Mephistopheles, the tempting devil in "Faust." "

Agares couldn't help but widen his eyes when he heard this, and pressed against Gabrielle's cheek: "Little girl, you better be careful with your words!"

Arthur didn't expect that someone could guess what he wrote. He smiled and nodded, "As expected of Mr. Humboldt's granddaughter, yes, this poem was indeed written to commemorate Mr. Goethe. To be more specific, it was written about the devil Mephistopheles in Faust."

Agares was so angry that his nose almost smoked when he heard this, and his shadow swayed into a red shadow beside the candlelight.

He suddenly moved closer to Arthur, and growled through gnashing teeth: "Mephisto? You dare compare me to a comedian in a third-rate stage play? I taught King Solomon! I helped him unify the Kingdom of Jerusalem! I..."

"I heard you." Arthur, his eyes glowing red, sipped the Bordeaux in his glass elegantly without even glancing at him. "But tonight is not the time to chat about the past. Besides, how can the Kingdom of Jerusalem compare to the British Empire that is about to take shape? Agares, to be a devil, you must have a broad mind like me."

The Duchess of Kent was completely unaware of this, and was even more deeply moved by Arthur's calm demeanor.

She raised her glass and smiled. "Sir Arthur, I originally just hoped that Victoria could learn two decent poems. Now it seems that inviting you to stay in Kensington is the best decision I have ever made."

Arthur put down the cup and smiled slightly: "Your Highness, you are too kind."

"How modest." The Duchess nodded gently. "Victoria will be waiting for you in the Rose Room at ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

Victoria nodded and said, "I will prepare my poetry book, sir."

Gabrielle also wanted to talk more, but didn't know where to interrupt. As she was hesitating, she suddenly heard a light cough at the door.

Butler Conroy was dressed in a dark suit and had his usual smile on his face.

He bowed to the Duchess and whispered a few words to her. After the Duchess nodded, he took a few steps closer and nodded to Arthur: "Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt your literary salon, but there is something I need to confirm with you. Can you please talk to me for a moment?"

"Of course, it's an honor."

Arthur stood up, doffed his hat to the ladies, and immediately followed Conroy out the door to the smoking room.

Before Arthur could even stand still, Conroy opened the cigar box and handed it to Arthur: "You've probably guessed it, right?"

Arthur lit the fire and said slowly, "I guess it's about Miss Lily?"

Conroy smiled ingratiatingly. "I heard that you have already finalized the new script for the Alhambra Theater and have already started rehearsals? You previously..."

Arthur blew out a smoke ring and asked in mock surprise, "What happened before?"

Conroy was a little angry when he heard this. He thought Arthur had forgotten the important matter: "You don't remember? It's Lily's second female role..."

"Female No. 2? Female No. 1!"

"Female...female lead!" Conroy was so overjoyed that he even stuttered: "This...I thought it was good enough to have a female lead, how come..."

Conroy realized he had spoken out of turn as soon as he had spoken. He smiled, shook Arthur's hand, and quickly changed the subject: "Sir Arthur, you really gave me a surprise."

He subconsciously wanted to pick up the glass to celebrate, but after stroking his hand for a long time, he realized that he was not at the table.

He apologized to Arthur with embarrassment and joy, "Please don't take it to heart. I never doubted you before. Besides, you helped Kensington Palace so much by agreeing to be a tutor. I really..."

Arthur waved his hand and replied with a smile: "It's no big deal. I always felt that I got along well with you. Besides, it's a great honor to be the tutor of the Crown Prince."

Arthur said this, but Conroy couldn't really believe it. He always felt that he owed Arthur a big favor: "You... Oh, please don't worry, although the standard salary of a tutor is 800 pounds, for someone like you who holds multiple positions, we will also take your class hours into consideration and increase the salary appropriately. I promise that I will never let you, the Dean of the University of London, suffer any injustice."

(End of this chapter)