Three only
retain some sort of self-possession. Marzo, proud of having
successfully thrust himself into a leading part in the recent
proceedings and made a dramatic speech, inflates his chest, curls
his scanty moustache, and throws himself into a swaggering pose,
chin up and right foot forward, despising the emotional English
barbarians around him. Brassbound's eyes and the working of his
mouth show that he is infected with the general excitement; but he
bridles himself savagely. Redbrook, trained to affect
indifference, grins cynically; winks at Brassbound; and finally
relieves himself by assuming the character of a circus ringmaster,
flourishing an imaginary whip and egging on the rest to wilder
exertions. A climax is reached when Drinkwater, let loose without
a stain on his character for the second time, is rapt by belief in
his star into an ecstasy in which, scorning all partnership, he
becomes as it were a whirling dervish, and executes so miraculous
a clog dance that the others gradually cease their slower antics
to stare at him.
BRASSBOUND (tearing off his hat and striding forward as Drinkwater
collapses, exhausted, and is picked up by Redbrook). Now to get
rid of this respectable clobber and feel like a man again. Stand
by, all hands, to jump on the captain's tall hat. (He puts the hat
down and prepares to jump on it. The effect is startling, and
takes him completely aback. His followers, far from appreciating
his iconoclasm, are shocked into scandalized sobriety, except
Redbrook, who is immensely tickled by their prudery.
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