"That's a fair offer," said the undergraduate, throwing down the
money for the whisky.
The barmaid concocted the mixture with the bearing of a person
compelled to live amongst animals of an inferior species, and the
glass was handed across to Jude, who, having drunk the contents,
stood up and began rhetorically, without hesitation: "_Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, Factorem coeli et terrae,
visibilium omnium et invisibilium._"
"Good! Excellent Latin!" cried one of the undergraduates, who,
however, had not the slightest conception of a single word.
A silence reigned among the rest in the bar, and the maid stood
still, Jude's voice echoing sonorously into the inner parlour, where
the landlord was dozing, and bringing him out to see what was going
on. Jude had declaimed steadily ahead, and was continuing: "_Crucifixus etiam pro nobis: sub Pontio Pilato passus, et sepultus
est. Et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas._"
"That's the Nicene," sneered the second undergraduate. "And we
wanted the Apostles'!"
"You didn't say so! And every fool knows, except you, that the
Nicene is the most historic creed!"
"Let un go on, let un go on!" said the auctioneer.
But Jude's mind seemed to grow confused soon, and he could not get
on. He put his hand to his forehead, and his face assumed an
expression of pain.
"Give him another glass--then he'll fetch up and get through it,"
said Tinker Taylor.
Somebody threw down threepence, the glass was handed, Jude stretched
out his arm for it without looking, and having swallowed the liquor,
went on in a moment in a revived voice, raising it as he neared the
end with the manner of a priest leading a congregation: "_Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem, qui ex Patre
Filioque procedit. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et
conglorificatur. Qui locutus est per prophetas.
"Et unam Catholicam et Apostolicam Ecclesiam. Confiteor unum
Baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. Et exspecto Resurrectionem
mortuorum. Et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen._"
"Well done!" said several, enjoying the last word, as being the first
and only one they had recognized.
Then Jude seemed to shake the fumes from his brain, as he stared
round upon them.
"You pack of fools!" he cried. "Which one of you knows whether I
have said it or no? It might have been the Ratcatcher's Daughter
in double Dutch for all that your besotted heads can tell! See what
I have brought myself to--the crew I have come among!"
The landlord, who had already had his license endorsed for harbouring
queer characters, feared a riot, and came outside the counter; but
Jude, in his sudden flash of reason, had turned in disgust and left
the scene, the door slamming with a dull thud behind him.