Adventure stories; British -- Spain -- Fiction; Swordsmen -- Fiction
Much as I disliked the country of France, I disliked the people, their
cookery, their manner of speaking, and their extremely foreign ways
even more. As I had small skill in their language, and the Count of
Nullepart had so mysteriously laid aside that which he could claim,
we had greatly to depend upon Sir Richard Pendragon’s knowledge and
adroitness for the least of our necessities. And to allow a due to the
devil--as my countrymen express it--it must be said that the well-being
of three travellers in a foreign country could not have been in
worthier hands.
Sir Richard Pendragon’s use of the French tongue, which I doubt not to
polite ears must have been as unseemly as his use of Castilian, was
so vigorous and his eyes rolled so freely, the name of God and his
Evil Adversary were so constantly upon his lips, and his hand was so
seldom off the hilt of his sword, that the French innkeepers vied with
each other in doing his behests, almost before he had been put to the
inconvenience of making them known. I cannot remember--although on
several occasions he has informed me of the number--how many temporal
kings of whom Sir Richard Pendragon claimed kinship and acquaintancy,
but at least he wore their manners in such wise as to know how to be
obeyed. Full many an innkeeper have I seen turn pale at his utterance
of the word “Sapristi!” And so surprised were some of them to find
themselves alive by the time he quitted their houses that they forgot
to ask him for the score, or perhaps it was that they feared to do so.
At least I know that in several instances they must have gone unpaid
had not the Señor Fulano thrown them a silver dollar.
I had no favourable impression of this country of France. I suppose it
is a pleasant country; at least I have met those who allow it to be so;
but to the eye of a true Iberian it seemed to lack colour, politeness,
and originality. Besides, as soon as we came to the first place out
of Spain, of which, as I have said, I forget the name, it came on to
rain; and during the whole time we were in this unfortunate land, which
could not have been less than thirty days, it continued to do so. I
know not whether the inhabitants of the country subsist upon frogs, as
was said of them by Sir Richard Pendragon, but if he spoke truly it was
doubtless in obedience to the dispensation of the good God, for their
favourite food was continually to be seen swimming in the pools that
lay in the middle of their roads.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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