A century of English essays : $b An anthology ranging from Caxton to R. L. Stevenson & the writers of our own time
General
A century of English essays : $b An anthology ranging from Caxton to R. L. Stevenson & the writers of our own time
English essays; English literature
Sir Roger observing that I listened with great Attention to his
Account of a People who were so entirely new to me, told me, That if I
would they should tell us our Fortunes. As I was very well pleased
with the Knight's Proposal, we rid up and communicated our Hands to
them. A _Cassandra_ of the Crew, after having examined my Lines very
diligently, told me, That I loved a pretty Maid in a Corner, that I
was a good Woman's Man, with some other Particulars which I do not
think proper to relate. My Friend Sir Roger alighted from his Horse,
and exposing his Palm to two or three that stood by him, they crumpled
it into all Shapes, and diligently scanned every Wrinkle that could be
made in it; when one of them who was older and more Sun-burnt than the
rest, told him, That he had a Widow in his Line of Life: Upon which
the Knight cried, Go, go, you are an idle Baggage, and at the same
time smiled upon me. The Gypsie finding he was not displeased in his
Heart, told him, after a further Enquiry into his Hand, that his
True-love was constant, and that she should dream of him to Night. My
old Friend cryed pish, and bid her go on. The Gypsie told him that he
was a Batchelour, but would not be so long; and that he was dearer to
some Body than he thought: the Knight still repeated, She was an idle
Baggage, and bid her go on. Ah Master, says the Gypsie, that roguish
Leer of yours makes a pretty Woman's Heart ake; you ha'n't that Simper
about the Mouth for Nothing---- The uncouth Gibberish with which all
this was uttered, like the Darkness of an Oracle, made us the more
attentive to it. To be short, the Knight left the Money with her that
he had crossed her Hand with, and got up again on his Horse.
As we were riding away, Sir Roger told me, that he knew several
sensible People who believed these Gypsies now and then foretold very
strange things; and for Half an Hour together appeared more jocund
than ordinary. In the Height of his good Humour, meeting a common
Beggar upon the Road who was no Conjuror, as he went to relieve him he
found his Pocket was pickt: That being a Kind of Palmistry at which
this Race of Vermin are very dexterous.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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