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Justinian at Windermere
By James Williams
We took a hundredweight of books
To Windermere between us,
Our dons had blessed our studious looks,
Had they by chance but seen us.
Maine, Blackstone, Sandars, all were there,
And Hallam's Middle Ages,
And Austin with his style so rare,
And Poste's enticing pages.
We started well: the little inn
Was deadly dull and quiet,
As dull as Mrs. Wood's East Lynne,
Or as the verse of Wyatt.
Without distraction thus we read
From nine until eleven,
Then rowed and sailed until we fed
On potted char at seven.
Two hours of work! We could devote
Next day to recreation,
Much illness springs, so doctors note,
From lack of relaxation.
Let him read law on summer days,
Who has a soul that grovels;
Better one tale of Thackeray's
Than all Justinian's novels.
At noon we went upon the lake,
We could not stand the slowness
Of our lone inn, so dined on steak
(They called it steak) at Bowness.
We wrestled with the steak, when lo!
Rose Jack in such a hurry,
He saw a girl he used to know
In Suffolk or in Surrey.
What matter which? to think that she
Should lure him from his duty!
For Jack, I knew, would always be
A very slave to beauty.
And so it proved, alas! for Jack
Grew taciturn and thinner,
Was out all day alone, and back
Too often late for dinner.
What could I do? His walks and rows
All led to one conclusion;
I could not read; our work, heaven knows,
Was nothing but confusion.
Like Jack I went about alone,
Saw Wordsworth's writing-table,
And made the higher by a stone
The "man" upon Great Gable.
At last there came a sudden pause
To all his wanderings solus,
He learned what writers on the laws
Of Rome had meant by dolus.
The Suffolk (was it Surrey?) flirt
Without a pang threw over
Poor Jack and all his works like dirt,
And caught a richer lover.
We read one morning more to say
We had not been quite idle,
And then to end the arduous day
Enjoyed a swim in Rydal.
Next day the hundredweight of books
Was packed once more in cases,
We left the lakes and hills and brooks
And southward turned our faces.
Three months, and then the Oxford Schools;
Our unbelieving college
Saw better than ourselves what fools
Pretend sometimes to knowledge.
Curst questions! Jack did only one,
He gave as his opinion
That of the Roman jurists none
Had lived before Justinian.
I answered two, but all I did
Was lacking in discretion,
I reckoned guardianship amid
The vitia of possession.
My second shot was wider still,
I held that commodata
Could not attest a prętor's will
Because of culpa lata.
We waited fruitlessly that night,
There came no blue testamur,[A]
Nor was Jack's heavy heart made light
By that sweet word Amamur.
Extra Info:
[A] Since the above was written, the testamur, like many other institutions dear to the old order of Oxford men, has been superseded.
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