A journey to the world under-groundHolberg, Ludvig
Science
A journey to the world under-ground
Holberg, Ludvig
Utopias -- Early works to 1800; Voyages, Imaginary -- Early works to 1800
myself at her Feet, shedding at the same Time a Flood of Tears, I
implor’d her to intercede for my Life. She told me, her Intercession
would avail very little against the Resolution of the Faculty, which
was irrevocable; but however, that she would deliver me from Death
by some other Means. With these Words, she took me by the Hand, and
leading me thro’ a back Door, brought me as far as to the Gate of the
City. Being now ready to take my Leave of my Preserver, I endeavour’d
to express my Gratitude in the best Language I was Master of; but she
presently interrupted me, and telling me she would not leave me till
she saw me out of all Danger, she continued to accompany me. As we
walk’d together, we enter’d into various Conversations concerning the
State of the Country, and I heard her with the utmost Avidity. But at
length she made a Digression to a Circumstance not very agreeable to
my Ears, and I conjectur’d, that for her Services, she requir’d some
Things of me which were _morally impossible_. For she told me with
the greatest Concern, that in this Country the Fate of marry’d Ladies
was extremely hard, for that their philosophick Husbands, immers’d in
Learning, neglected conjugal Duties. _For my Part, I protest_, says
she, with an Oath, _we should all be very wretched, if now and then
a good-natur’d, compassionate Stranger did not administer Comfort to
us in our Misfortunes, and occasionally apply a Remedy to them_. I
pretended not to understand this Harangue, and mended my Pace. But this
Coldness serv’d only to enflame her. Whereupon,
_Consumptis precibus, violentam transit ad iram,
Intendensque manus, passis furibunda capillis_,
she reproach’d me with Ingratitude. I nevertheless continued my Pace,
till at last she laid Hands upon my Cloaths, and endeavour’d to stop
me. With that I forcibly started from her, and having vastly the
Advantage of her in Swiftness, I quickly got out of her Sight. One
may judge of the Extremity of the Rage she was in, by the Words I
could hear her pronounce, namely, _Kaki spalaki_, that is, _ungrateful
Dog_. I digested this Affront with a _Spartan_ Nobleness of Mind, and
was glad at my Heart, that I could any Way escape from this Land of
Philosophers, the bare Remembrance of which fills me with Horror.
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