The English Rogue: Described in the Life of Meriton Latroon, a Witty ExtravagantHead, Richard
General
The English Rogue: Described in the Life of Meriton Latroon, a Witty Extravagant
Head, Richard
Rogues and vagabonds -- England -- Fiction
reach the Ship, nor she us, although she hung on the Lee to retard her
course. Thus our pregnant hopes brought forth nothing but wind and water
(for the Ship rode on furiously before the wind, and we came after in
pursuit of her, as slowly as if an hedg-hog had been running with a
Race-horse;) so that we which before flattered our selves with an
assurance of safety, were as much confounded with a certainty of
perishing. In my opinion it is better to have no hopes at all, than be
disappointed in them: doubtless it did redouble the punishment of
_Tantalus_, to touch what he could not taste. That Mariner, who seeing a
fatal necessity for it, is contented to die in a tempest, would be
exceedingly troubled to perish in a Haven, _In Portu perire_. In this
very condition were we, having a Ship near us, but could not board her
for stress of weather; so that ruine attended us, though all the while
we lookt safety in the face. Now did it grow dark, whereby we could not
see which way to row: though this was an evil in its own nature, yet
accidentally it became our benefit: for not seeing our danger, we
understood it not; but redoubling our strength, we brake through the
waves, and by the assistance of a light, which was in the Ship, we
directed our course truly; and now did we find we were very near her. As
soon as we toucht her on the Lee-side, the Sea-men, with the rest in the
boat, being more dexterous in the art of climbing than my self, never
regarding their _exil’d Prisoner_ (whom they ought to have taken charge
of) got all up into the Ship in a moment, leaving me alone in the boat.
By good hap they threw me out a Cope, which once had like to have
deprived me of my life, but was now the preserver: which I held fast, to
keep the Boat from staving off. Our Boat was half full of water, and the
waves dashed it so violently against the Ship-side, that every such
stroke struck me down, so that I had like to have been drowned (and did
much fear it) in that epitome of the Sea. It would have vexed a man in
my condition, to escape by swimming over a large _River_, and coming
ashore, to be drowned in a _washbowle_. At last with much difficulty I
got aboard too. The Master, Merchants, _&c._ having sav’d their lives
(even miraculously) one would have thought they should not have been so
pensive as they were for the loss of their goods. Those which lost much
took it very heavily; those which lost less, their affliction was
greater, having lost all: I was the most glad, joy riding in triumph in
my chearful countenance, having lost nothing, neither could I any thing,
but my life. Having escapt so miraculously, it was unchristian-like to
murmur at any loss; and as ridiculous, as if a man being restored to
life, should complain that his winding-sheet had sustained some damage
by lying in the grave. The Ship wherein we were, was bound for the
_Canaries_, the wind blowing very faire for that coast. The second night
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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