Sights from a Steeple (From "Twice Told Tales") — John Shaqi
Sights from a Steeple (From "Twice Told Tales")Hawthorne, Nathaniel
General
Sights from a Steeple (From "Twice Told Tales")
Hawthorne, Nathaniel
Historical fiction, American; New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
They stand talking a
little while upon the steps, and finally proceed up the street.
Meantime, as their faces are now turned from me, I may look elsewhere.
Upon that wharf, and down the corresponding street, is a busy contrast to
the quiet scene which I have just noticed. Business evidently has its
centre there, and many a man is wasting the summer afternoon in labor and
anxiety, in losing riches, or in gaining them, when he would be wiser to
flee away to some pleasant country village, or shaded lake in the forest,
or wild and cool seabeach. I see vessels unlading at the wharf, and
precious merchandise strewn upon the ground, abundantly as at the bottom
of the sea, that market whence no goods return, and where there is no
captain nor supercargo to render an account of sales. Here, the clerks
are diligent with their paper and pencils, and sailors ply the block and
tackle that hang over the hold, accompanying their toil with cries, long
drawn and roughly melodious, till the bales and puncheons ascend to upper
air. At a little distance, a group of gentlemen are assembled round the
door of a warehouse. Grave seniors be they, and I would wager--if it
were safe, in these times, to be responsible for any one--that the least
eminent among them might vie with old Vicentio, that incomparable
trafficker of Pisa. I can even select the wealthiest of the company.
It is the elderly personage, in somewhat rusty black, with powdered hair,
the superfluous whiteness of which is visible upon the cape of his coat.
His twenty ships are wafted on some of their many courses by every breeze
that blows, and his name--I will venture to say, though I know it not--is
a familiar sound among the far-separated merchants of Europe and the
Indies.
But I bestow too much of my attention in this quarter. On looking again
to the long and shady walk, I perceive that the two fair girls have
encountered the young man. After a sort of shyness in the recognition,
he turns back with them. Moreover, he has sanctioned my taste in regard
to his companions by placing himself on the inner side of the pavement,
nearest the Venus to whom I--enacting on a steeple-top, the part of Paris
on the top of Ida--adjudged the golden apple.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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