Devereux — Volume 02Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
History
Devereux — Volume 02
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Great Britain -- History -- Anne, 1702-1714 -- Fiction
A LITTLE affected by the vinous potations which had been so much an
object of anticipation with my companion, Tarleton and I were strolling
homeward when we perceived a remarkably tall man engaged in a contest
with a couple of watchmen. Watchmen were in all cases the especial and
natural enemies of the gallants in my young days; and no sooner did we
see the unequal contest than, drawing our swords with that true English
valour which makes all the quarrels of other people its own, we hastened
to the relief of the weaker party.
"Gentlemen," said the elder watchman, drawing back, "this is no common
brawl; we have been shamefully beaten by this here madman, and for no
earthly cause."
"Who ever did beat a watchman for any earthly cause, you rascal?" cried
the accused party, swinging his walking cane over the complainant's head
with a menacing air.
"Very true," cried Tarleton, coolly. "Seigneurs of the watch, you are
both made and paid to be beaten; /ergo/--you have no right to complain.
Release this worthy cavalier, and depart elsewhere to make night hideous
with your voices."
"Come, come," quoth the younger Dogberry, who perceived a reinforcement
approaching, "move on, good people, and let us do our duty."
"Which," interrupted the elder watchman, "consists in taking this
hulking swaggerer to the watchhouse."
"Thou speakest wisely, man of peace," said Tarleton; "defend thyself;"
and without adding another word he ran the watchman through--not the
body but the coat; avoiding with great dexterity the corporeal substance
of the attacked party, and yet approaching it so closely as to give the
guardian of the streets very reasonable ground for apprehension. No
sooner did the watchman find the hilt strike against his breast, than he
uttered a dismal cry and fell upon the pavement as if he had been shot.
"Now for thee, varlet," cried Tarleton, brandishing his rapier before
the eyes of the other watchman, "tremble at the sword of Gideon."
"O Lord, O Lord!" ejaculated the terrified comrade of the fallen man,
dropping on his knees, "for Heaven's sake, sir, have a care."
"What argument canst thou allege, thou screech-owl of the metropolis,
that thou shouldst not share the same fate as thy brother owl?"
"Oh, sir!" cried the craven night-bird (a bit of a humourist in its
way), "because I have a nest and seven little owlets at home, and t'
other owl is only a bachelor."
"Thou art an impudent thing to jest at us," said Tarleton; "but thy wit
has saved thee; rise."
At this moment two other watchmen came up.
"Gentlemen," said the tall stranger whom we had rescued, "we had better
fly."
Tarleton cast at him a contemptuous look, and placed himself in a
posture of offence.
"Hark ye," said I, "let us effect an honourable peace. Messieurs the
watch, be it lawful for you to carry off the slain, and for us to claim
the prisoners."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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