Nobility -- Great Britain -- Fiction; Wessex (England) -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
In going out of Casterbridge by the low-lying road which eventually
conducts to the town of Ivell, you see on the right hand an ivied manor-
house, flanked by battlemented towers, and more than usually
distinguished by the size of its many mullioned windows. Though still of
good capacity, the building is much reduced from its original grand
proportions; it has, moreover, been shorn of the fair estate which once
appertained to its lord, with the exception of a few acres of park-land
immediately around the mansion. This was formerly the seat of the
ancient and knightly family of the Drenghards, or Drenkhards, now extinct
in the male line, whose name, according to the local chronicles, was
interpreted to mean _Strenuus Miles_, _vel Potator_, though certain
members of the family were averse to the latter signification, and a duel
was fought by one of them on that account, as is well known. With this,
however, we are not now concerned.
In the early part of the reign of the first King James, there was
visiting near this place of the Drenghards a lady of noble family and
extraordinary beauty. She was of the purest descent; ah, there's seldom
such blood nowadays as hers! She possessed no great wealth, it was said,
but was sufficiently endowed. Her beauty was so perfect, and her manner
so entrancing, that suitors seemed to spring out of the ground wherever
she went, a sufficient cause of anxiety to the Countess her mother, her
only living parent. Of these there were three in particular, whom
neither her mother's complaints of prematurity, nor the ready raillery of
the maiden herself, could effectually put off. The said gallants were a
certain Sir John Gale, a Sir William Hervy, and the well-known Sir George
Drenghard, one of the Drenghard family before-mentioned. They had,
curiously enough, all been equally honoured with the distinction of
knighthood, and their schemes for seeing her were manifold, each fearing
that one of the others would steal a march over himself. Not content
with calling, on every imaginable excuse, at the house of the relative
with whom she sojourned, they intercepted her in rides and in walks; and
if any one of them chanced to surprise another in the act of paying her
marked attentions, the encounter often ended in an altercation of great
violence. So heated and impassioned, indeed, would they become, that the
lady hardly felt herself safe in their company at such times,
notwithstanding that she was a brave and buxom damsel, not easily put
out, and with a daring spirit of humour in her composition, if not of
coquetry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account