Two Gallants Page #3

"Two Gallants" is a short story written by James Joyce, it's a part of his Dubliners collection. The story follows the exploits of two lower-class Irish men, Lenehan and Corley, as they manipulate women for their own needs in early 20th century Dublin. Corley, a womanizer, exploits a housemaid for money while Lenehan, his faithful follower, dreams of a better life. Joyce expertly weaves a tale of mundane existence, moral compromise, and the struggle towards personal advancement.

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very light plum-pudding. He eyed this food earnestly for some time and
then, after glancing warily up and down the street, went into the shop
quickly.

He was hungry for, except some biscuits which he had asked two grudging
curates to bring him, he had eaten nothing since breakfast-time. He sat
down at an uncovered wooden table opposite two work-girls and a
mechanic. A slatternly girl waited on him.

“How much is a plate of peas?” he asked.

“Three halfpence, sir,” said the girl.

“Bring me a plate of peas,” he said, “and a bottle of ginger beer.”

He spoke roughly in order to belie his air of gentility for his entry
had been followed by a pause of talk. His face was heated. To appear
natural he pushed his cap back on his head and planted his elbows on
the table. The mechanic and the two work-girls examined him point by
point before resuming their conversation in a subdued voice. The girl
brought him a plate of grocer’s hot peas, seasoned with pepper and
vinegar, a fork and his ginger beer. He ate his food greedily and found
it so good that he made a note of the shop mentally. When he had eaten
all the peas he sipped his ginger beer and sat for some time thinking
of Corley’s adventure. In his imagination he beheld the pair of lovers
walking along some dark road; he heard Corley’s voice in deep energetic
gallantries and saw again the leer of the young woman’s mouth. This
vision made him feel keenly his own poverty of purse and spirit. He was
tired of knocking about, of pulling the devil by the tail, of shifts
and intrigues. He would be thirty-one in November. Would he never get a
good job? Would he never have a home of his own? He thought how
pleasant it would be to have a warm fire to sit by and a good dinner to
sit down to. He had walked the streets long enough with friends and
with girls. He knew what those friends were worth: he knew the girls
too. Experience had embittered his heart against the world. But all
hope had not left him. He felt better after having eaten than he had
felt before, less weary of his life, less vanquished in spirit. He
might yet be able to settle down in some snug corner and live happily
if he could only come across some good simple-minded girl with a little
of the ready.

He paid twopence halfpenny to the slatternly girl and went out of the
shop to begin his wandering again. He went into Capel Street and walked
along towards the City Hall. Then he turned into Dame Street. At the
corner of George’s Street he met two friends of his and stopped to
converse with them. He was glad that he could rest from all his
walking. His friends asked him had he seen Corley and what was the
latest. He replied that he had spent the day with Corley. His friends
talked very little. They looked vacantly after some figures in the
crowd and sometimes made a critical remark. One said that he had seen
Mac an hour before in Westmoreland Street. At this Lenehan said that he
had been with Mac the night before in Egan’s. The young man who had
seen Mac in Westmoreland Street asked was it true that Mac had won a
bit over a billiard match. Lenehan did not know: he said that Holohan
had stood them drinks in Egan’s.

He left his friends at a quarter to ten and went up George’s Street. He
turned to the left at the City Markets and walked on into Grafton
Street. The crowd of girls and young men had thinned and on his way up
the street he heard many groups and couples bidding one another
good-night. He went as far as the clock of the College of Surgeons: it
was on the stroke of ten. He set off briskly along the northern side of
the Green hurrying for fear Corley should return too soon. When he
reached the corner of Merrion Street he took his stand in the shadow of
a lamp and brought out one of the cigarettes which he had reserved and
lit it. He leaned against the lamp-post and kept his gaze fixed on the
part from which he expected to see Corley and the young woman return.

His mind became active again. He wondered had Corley managed it
successfully. He wondered if he had asked her yet or if he would leave
it to the last. He suffered all the pangs and thrills of his friend’s
situation as well as those of his own. But the memory of Corley’s
slowly revolving head calmed him somewhat: he was sure Corley would
pull it off all right. All at once the idea struck him that perhaps
Corley had seen her home by another way and given him the slip. His
eyes searched the street: there was no sign of them. Yet it was surely
half-an-hour since he had seen the clock of the College of Surgeons.
Would Corley do a thing like that? He lit his last cigarette and began
to smoke it nervously. He strained his eyes as each tram stopped at the
far corner of the square. They must have gone home by another way. The
paper of his cigarette broke and he flung it into the road with a
curse.

Suddenly he saw them coming towards him. He started with delight and,
keeping close to his lamp-post, tried to read the result in their walk.
They were walking quickly, the young woman taking quick short steps,
while Corley kept beside her with his long stride. They did not seem to
be speaking. An intimation of the result pricked him like the point of
a sharp instrument. He knew Corley would fail; he knew it was no go.

They turned down Baggot Street and he followed them at once, taking the
other footpath. When they stopped he stopped too. They talked for a few
moments and then the young woman went down the steps into the area of a
house. Corley remained standing at the edge of the path, a little
distance from the front steps. Some minutes passed. Then the hall-door
was opened slowly and cautiously. A woman came running down the front
steps and coughed. Corley turned and went towards her. His broad figure
hid hers from view for a few seconds and then she reappeared running up
the steps. The door closed on her and Corley began to walk swiftly
towards Stephen’s Green.

Lenehan hurried on in the same direction. Some drops of light rain
fell. He took them as a warning and, glancing back towards the house
which the young woman had entered to see that he was not observed, he
ran eagerly across the road. Anxiety and his swift run made him pant.
He called out:

“Hallo, Corley!”

Corley turned his head to see who had called him, and then continued
walking as before. Lenehan ran after him, settling the waterproof on
his shoulders with one hand.

“Hallo, Corley!” he cried again.

He came level with his friend and looked keenly in his face. He could
see nothing there.

“Well?” he said. “Did it come off?”

They had reached the corner of Ely Place. Still without answering,
Corley swerved to the left and went up the side street. His features
were composed in stern calm. Lenehan kept up with his friend, breathing
uneasily. He was baffled and a note of menace pierced through his
voice.

“Can’t you tell us?” he said. “Did you try her?”

Corley halted at the first lamp and stared grimly before him. Then with
a grave gesture he extended a hand towards the light and, smiling,
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