Isopel Berners: The History of certain doings in a Staffordshire Dingle, July, 1825Borrow, George
General
Isopel Berners: The History of certain doings in a Staffordshire Dingle, July, 1825
Borrow, George
England -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
Oh, what feelings came over me on finding myself again in an edifice
devoted to the religion of my country! I had not been in such a place I
cannot tell how long--certainly not for years; and now I had found my way
there again, it appeared as if I had fallen asleep in the pew of the old
church of pretty D[ereham]. I had occasionally done so when a child, and
had suddenly woke up. Yes, surely I had been asleep and had woken up;
but, no! alas, no! I had not been asleep--at least not in the old
church--if I had been asleep I had been walking in my sleep, struggling,
striving, learning, and unlearning in my sleep. Years had rolled away
whilst I had been asleep--ripe fruit had fallen, green fruit had come on
whilst I had been asleep--how circumstances had altered, and above all
myself, whilst I had been asleep. No, I had not been asleep in the old
church! I was in a pew it is true, but not the pew of black leather, in
which I sometimes fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew; and
then my companions, they were no longer those of days of yore. I was no
longer with my respectable father and mother, and my dear brother, but
with the gypsy cral {277} and his wife, and the gigantic Tawno, the
Antinous of the dusky people. And what was I myself? No longer an
innocent child, but a moody man, bearing in my face, as I knew well, the
marks of my strivings and strugglings, of what I had learned and
unlearned; nevertheless, the general aspect of things brought to my mind
what I had felt and seen of yore. There was difference enough it is
true, but still there was a similarity--at least I thought so,--the
church, the clergyman, and the clerk differing in many respects from
those of pretty D . . ., put me strangely in mind of them; and then the
words!--by-the-bye, was it not the magic of the words which brought the
dear enchanting past so powerfully before the mind of Lavengro? for the
words were the same sonorous words of high import which had first made an
impression on his childish ear in the old church of pretty Dereham.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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