Dariel: A Romance of SurreyBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
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Dariel: A Romance of Surrey
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Surrey (England) -- Fiction
If I had not been reduced by this time to a meritorious humility--which
I meant to keep up, let it suffer as it might--it would have gone hard
with our language to forego one of its strongest and briefest words,
which the weaker tongues try to pronounce against us, but condemn
themselves by the effort. Being of the purest English birth, and
therefore (as even our enemies admit) an embodiment of justice, I stood
still, and made allowance for all of lesser privilege. They have quite
as much right to their own ideas as the largest of us have to ours. And
it is our power of perceiving that which has made us beloved throughout
the world, or at least by as many as can understand us. Or if they be
few, whose fault is that?
While I was full of these quick thoughts, and exceedingly sorrowful over
them, lo, two streaks of yellow on the dark-green grass, and the
self-possession of Albion was wellnigh rolled over in its own tricks.
_Kuban_ and _Orla_, as mad as March hares, threw all their wild welcome
upon me: kisses, and licks, and the hairiest embraces, and the most
lunatic yells of delight; if ever there has been true love, here was the
prime of it to knock me off my legs.
Any one may laugh at me and all my pride; for the whole of it went to
the dogs in a jiffy. I am blest if I could help a gleam of moisture that
made it difficult for me to see the loyal love in eyes that never told a
lie. "You dears!" I cried, "you faithful dears!" and they would scarcely
let me say it before they were smothering me again, and then they rolled
on the ground as if they had got no legs, and then they jumped up and
looked at one another to be certain of their facts; and then with one
accord they made the valley ring with glorious shouts of joy, and the
dead leaves tremble on the lonely trees. And behold, they had roused a
great figure of a man, who came from a door where I had trembled like a
leaf, and put his hand over his eyes, and gazed at me, as if he had
never seen a man before. And then a little figure ran almost between his
legs, and I halloed to Stepan and Allai.
Stepan showed a warm desire to embrace me, which proved that to him I
was guiltless as yet, while Allai put both hands on his head, and bowed
almost to my gaiters. Now if I could only make these fellows understand,
and then get them to do the like to me, I should learn all about this
sudden flitting, for the smallest of the Lesghians had always seemed to
be in partnership with the greatest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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