Lavengro : $b The Scholar; The Gypsy; The Priest, Vol. 2 (of 2)Borrow, George
General
Lavengro : $b The Scholar; The Gypsy; The Priest, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Borrow, George
England -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
"Indeed, all the time that I was performing these strange feats, I knew
them to be highly absurd, yet the impulse to perform them was
irresistible--a mysterious dread hanging over me till I had given way to
it; even at that early period I frequently used to reason within myself
as to what could be the cause of my propensity to touch, but of course I
could come to no satisfactory conclusion respecting it; being heartily
ashamed of the practice, I never spoke of it to any one, and was at all
times highly solicitous that no one should observe my weakness."
CHAPTER LXV
Maternal Anxiety--The Baronet--Little Zest--Country Life--Mr.
Speaker!--The Craving--Spirited Address--An Author.
After a short pause my host resumed his narration. "Though I was never
sent to school, my education was not neglected on that account; I had
tutors in various branches of knowledge, under whom I made a tolerable
progress; by the time I was eighteen I was able to read most of the Greek
and Latin authors with facility; I was likewise, to a certain degree, a
mathematician. I cannot say that I took much pleasure in my studies; my
chief aim in endeavouring to accomplish my tasks was to give pleasure to
my beloved parent, who watched my progress with anxiety truly maternal.
My life at this period may be summed up in a few words; I pursued my
studies, roamed about the woods, walked the green lanes occasionally,
cast my fly in a trout stream, and sometimes, but not often, rode
a-hunting with my uncle. A considerable part of my time was devoted to
my mother, conversing with her and reading to her; youthful companions I
had none, and as to my mother, she lived in the greatest retirement,
devoting herself to the superintendence of my education, and the practice
of acts of charity; nothing could be more innocent than this mode of
life, and some people say that in innocence there is happiness, yet I
can't say that I was happy. A continual dread overshadowed my mind, it
was the dread of my mother's death. Her constitution had never been
strong, and it had been considerably shaken by her last illness; this I
knew, and this I saw--for the eyes of fear are marvellously keen. Well,
things went on in this way till I had come of age; my tutors were then
dismissed, and my uncle the baronet took me in hand, telling my mother
that it was high time for him to exert his authority; that I must see
something of the world, for that, if I remained much longer with her, I
should be ruined. 'You must consign him to me,' said he, 'and I will
introduce him to the world.' My mother sighed and consented; so my uncle
the baronet introduced me to the world, took me to horse-races and to
London, and endeavoured to make a man of me according to his idea of the
term, and in part succeeded. I became moderately dissipated--I say
moderately, for dissipation had but little zest for me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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