Life's Handicap: Being Stories of Mine Own PeopleKipling, Rudyard
History
Life's Handicap: Being Stories of Mine Own People
Kipling, Rudyard
India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction; India -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, English
Lastly, a very fine and magnificent courage (that doubtless had its
birth in Mr. Hastings’ Madeira) grew upon me, till it seemed that I
could become Governor-General, Nawab, Prince, ay, even the Great Mogul
himself, by the mere wishing of it. Wherefore, taking my first steps,
random and unstable enough, towards my new kingdom, I kickt my servants
sleeping without till they howled and ran from me, and called Heaven and
Earth to witness that I, Duncan Parrenness, was a Writer in the service
of the Company and afraid of no man. Then, seeing that neither the Moon
nor the Great Bear were minded to accept my challenge, I lay down again
and must have fallen asleep.
I was waked presently by my last words repeated two or three times, and
I saw that there had come into the room a drunken man, as I thought,
from Mr. Hastings’ rout. He sate down at the foot of my bed in all the
world as it belonged to him, and I took note, as well as I could, that
his face was somewhat like mine own grown older, save when it changed
to the face of the Governor-General or my father, dead these six months.
But this seemed to me only natural, and the due result of too much wine;
and I was so angered at his entry all unannounced, that I told him, not
over civilly, to go. To all my words he made no answer whatever, only
saying slowly, as though it were some sweet morsel: ‘Writer in the
Company’s service and afraid of no man.’ Then he stops short, and
turning round sharp upon me, says that one of my kidney need fear
neither man nor devil; that I was a brave young man, and like enough,
should I live so long, to be Governor-General. But for all these things
(and I suppose that he meant thereby the changes and chances of our
shifty life in these parts) I must pay my price. By this time I had
sobered somewhat, and being well waked out of my first sleep, was
disposed to look upon the matter as a tipsy man’s jest. So, says I
merrily: ‘And what price shall I pay for this palace of mine, which is
but twelve feet square, and my five poor pagodas a month? The Devil take
you and your jesting: I have paid my price twice over in sickness.’ At
that moment my man turns full towards me: so that by the moonlight I
could see every line and wrinkle of his face. Then my drunken mirth died
out of me, as I have seen the waters of our great rivers die away in
one night; and I, Duncan Parrenness, who was afraid of no man, was taken
with a more deadly terror than I hold it has ever been the lot of mortal
man to know. For I saw that his face was my very own, but marked and
lined and scarred with the furrows of disease and much evil living--as
I once, when I was (Lord help me) very drunk indeed, have seen mine own
face, all white and drawn and grown old, in a mirror. I take it that any
man would have been even more greatly feared than I. For I am in no way
wanting in courage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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