Paul Clifford — CompleteLytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Paul Clifford — Complete
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Brigands and robbers -- Fiction
In fact, Long Ned was as good as his word; he carried Paul to a tailor,
who gave him for the sum of thirty shillings--half ready money, half
on credit-a green coat with a tarnished gold lace, a pair of red
inexpressibles, and a pepper-and-salt waistcoat. It is true, they were
somewhat of the largest, for they had once belonged to no less a person
than Long Ned himself; but Paul did not then regard those niceties of
apparel, as he was subsequently taught to do by Gentleman George (a
personage hereafter to be introduced to our reader), and he went to the
theatre as well satisfied with himself as if he had been Mr. T---- or
the Count de ----.
Our adventurers are now quietly seated in the theatre; and we shall
not think it necessary to detail the performances they saw, or the
observations they made. Long Ned was one of those superior beings of the
road who would not for the world have condescended to appear anywhere
but in the boxes; and, accordingly, the friends procured a couple of
places in the dress-tier. In the next box to the one our adventurers
adorned they remarked, more especially than the rest of the audience, a
gentleman and a young lady seated next each other; the latter, who was
about thirteen years old, was so uncommonly beautiful that Paul,
despite his dramatic enthusiasm, could scarcely divert his eyes from her
countenance to the stage. Her hair, of a bright and fair auburn, hung
in profuse ringlets about her neck, shedding a softer shade upon a
complexion in which the roses seemed just budding as it were into blush.
Her eyes, large, blue, and rather languishing than brilliant, were
curtained by the darkest lashes; her mouth seemed literally girt with
smiles, so numberless were the dimples that every time the full, ripe,
dewy lips were parted rose into sight; and the enchantment of the
dimples was aided by two rows of teeth more dazzling than the richest
pearls that ever glittered on a bride. But the chief charm of the face
was its exceeding and touching air of innocence and girlish softness;
you might have gazed forever upon that first unspeakable bloom, that all
untouched and stainless down, which seemed as if a very breath could mar
it. Perhaps the face might have wanted animation; but perhaps, also, it
borrowed from that want an attraction. The repose of the features was so
soft and gentle that the eye wandered there with the same delight, and
left it with the same reluctance, which it experiences in dwelling on
or in quitting those hues which are found to harmonize the most with its
vision. But while Paul was feeding his gaze on this young beauty, the
keen glances of Long Ned had found an object no less fascinating in a
large gold watch which the gentleman who accompanied the damsel ever
and anon brought to his eye, as if he were waxing a little weary of the
length of the pieces or the lingering progression of time.
“What a beautiful face!” whispered Paul.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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