Modern literature: a novel, Volume 2 (of 3)Bisset, Robert
General
Modern literature: a novel, Volume 2 (of 3)
Bisset, Robert
England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction
rather fancy he is a physician, but here he is, sir,” when Hamilton
turning about, beheld a little figure in black, with a large bag wig,
and a sword hanging by his side; and it was almost a minute before he
recollected him to be Dr. Scribble. “Doctor,” says he in surprise,
“What is the meaning of all this metamorphose?” Maria, at this address,
turning to survey the doctor, burst out into a fit of laughter which
soon pervaded the whole company. The face, naturally diminutive, was
half covered by the wig which came down to his cheek bones, the bag
overspreading his slender back and shoulders, rendered their flimsy
contexture more visible: the coat having very large flaps, made that
part of the person which these peculiarly affected, form a striking
contrast with the short and tiny limbs, from the close grasp of the
silks, smaller, if possible, in appearance than reality. Offended at
a mirth of which he himself was so evidently the object, he, with much
solemnity, opened a speech, in which he expressed his confidence that
there was nothing ludicrous and ridiculous in his appearance, that he
trusted both his dress and deportment would be uniformly such, as was
most compatible with the dignity to which he was now elevated. “My
appearance, I will be bold to say, befits my character.” “Character,”
said Captain Mortimer, “I do not know what the devil character it
befits, unless it be Captain Mirvan’s full-dressed monkey in Evelina.”
But our hero and young Mortimer, to prevent the doctor from attending
to this remark upon his archetype, made some little motion and bustle
to procure him room at table; and, while, the company were conversing
upon the occurrences of the evening, the doctor thought it a good
opportunity of delivering a dissertation upon the nature and tendency
of the ancient dances, and in the course of his illustrations, entered
upon the Ionicos motus of the lyric bard. The baronet, who before had
enjoyed the lectures of this spontaneous instructor, now joined with
the other gentlemen in traversing this part of the elucidation. Before
the doctor would take the hint, the company broke up for the night.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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