Part 31

Down the flight of steps from Queen’s came lounging an average undergraduate.

“Mr. Smith,” said the Duke, “a word with you.”

“But my name is not Smith,” said the young man.

“Generically it is,” replied the Duke. “You are Smith to all intents and purposes. That, indeed, is why I address you. In making your acquaintance, I make a thousand acquaintances. You are a short cut to knowledge. Tell me, do you seriously think of drowning yourself this afternoon?”

“Rather,” said the undergraduate.

“A meiosis in common use, equivalent to ‘Yes, assuredly,’” murmured the Duke. “And why,” he then asked, “do you mean to do this?”

“Why? How can you ask? Why are YOU going to do it?”

“The Socratic manner is not a game at which two can play. Please answer my question, to the best of your ability.”

“Well, because I can’t live without her. Because I want to prove my love for her. Because--”

“One reason at a time please,” said the Duke, holding up his hand. “You can’t live without her? Then I am to assume that you look forward to dying?”

“Rather.”

“You are truly happy in that prospect?”

“Yes. Rather.”

“Now, suppose I showed you two pieces of equally fine amber--a big one and a little one. Which of these would you rather possess?”

“The big one, I suppose.”

“And this because it is better to have more than to have less of a good thing?”

“Just so.”

“Do you consider happiness a good thing or a bad one?”

“A good one.”

“So that a man would rather have more than less of happiness?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then does it not seem to you that you would do well to postpone your suicide indefinitely?”

“But I have just said I can’t live without her.”

“You have still more recently declared yourself truly happy.”

“Yes, but--”

“Now, be careful, Mr. Smith. Remember, this is a matter of life and death. Try to do yourself justice. I have asked you--”

But the undergraduate was walking away, not without a certain dignity.

The Duke felt that he had not handled his man skilfully. He remembered that even Socrates, for all the popular charm of his mock-modesty and his true geniality, had ceased after a while to be tolerable. Without such a manner to grace his method, Socrates would have had a very brief time indeed. The Duke recoiled from what he took to be another pitfall. He almost smelt hemlock.