Olga Rudge & Ezra Pound: "What Thou Lovest Well..."

81 The Hidden Nest
through, but inside lighted from above, and shallow enough water to
stand in—setting ideal for un’amore marino (which is one of her unfulfilled
desires) . . . she might have been excused for forgetting? . . .
however, [he had] the most profound respect, nearly equalling her primo
amore. What would He do about it (if He was her, not if He was there)?’’
Ezra replied, ‘‘He regrets his absence from the cave. It sounds like a spot
built to order . . . no use wasting chef d’oeuvre of nature on the unfit. Let
her quench her regrets. . . . More than simple muscular appearance is
required. Cheer up, he will keep that cave in mind.’’
‘‘She hasn’t got the young architect’s scalp yet,’’ she replied; ‘‘with
every visible sign of defeat, [he is] still holding out. She feeling really
annoyed and not showing it, being sustained by her dignity, which never
deserts her, except for Him.’’ The young man had discovered ‘‘the bellezza
of her caratterre, and his sguardo [gaze] was positively incinerating,’’ she
wrote. ‘‘He is a bellissimo giovane with the manners of an archangel, and
she likes young men with beautiful manners—yeow!’’
Ezra was trying to keep the reins firmly in hand. He suggested a
meeting in Levanto on the coast near Genoa after Capri, but Olga would
not promise to be there until the end of August. ‘‘The unforgivable sin, to
upset his timetable—yeow! He not treat her as if she were a nuisance—and
he please receive her more than a√ectionately, not curse and swear at
her. . . . He much too bristly to o√er carezze.’’
In late August, tragic news came from Mabel Duncan, vacationing in
Heidelberg: Egerton Grey was dead. His sisters had been expecting him to
arrive from Cambridge, planning a happy holiday together. Egerton
wrote in his last letter (July 24) from the Biochemical Institute that he had
been feverishly working to get his book ready and counted on another
week to finish it, then would join his sisters in Germany. ‘‘He was taken ill
from overwork a little over a week ago, and a few days later, taken to a
nursing home, where Temple [his brother] saw him, then left for Warsaw,’’
Mabel wrote. ‘‘We were all away when E. died on the 10th, and no
news in time for us to be at his funeral. . . . He spoke of you on his last visit
to us about the 8th June, and asked your news.’’ One can only imagine
Olga’s feeling of loss after the one man who had loved her unconditionally