The Fool Errant: Being the Memoirs of Francis-Anthony Strelley, Esq., Citizen of Lucca — John Shaqi
The Fool Errant: Being the Memoirs of Francis-Anthony Strelley, Esq., Citizen of LuccaHewlett, Maurice
General
The Fool Errant: Being the Memoirs of Francis-Anthony Strelley, Esq., Citizen of Lucca
Hewlett, Maurice
Historical fiction
delight, she carried her beauties so easily, valued them so staidly, and
considered them so unaffectedly her husband's property, that he would
have been a highway thief who had dared anything against her.
Here, indeed, was to be reckoned with that quality of strong common
sense, without which she had been no Tuscan girl. She had it in a
remarkable degree, as you may judge when I say that it reconciled her to
her position of wife to a vast, disorderly, tyrannical man nearly old
enough to be her grandfather. It enabled her to weigh the dignity, ease
and comfort of the Casa Lanfranchi against any romantic picture which a
more youthful lover could paint before her eyes. I am convinced--the
conviction was, it will be seen, forced upon me--that not only was she a
loyal, obedient and cheerful, but also a loving wife to this huge and
blusterous person, of whom nevertheless she was a good deal afraid. For
if he fondled her more than was becoming, he stormed at her also in a
way not tolerable.
When Dr. Lanfranchi met me on my arrival, I remember that he took my
hand in his own and never let go of it until he had me in his house.
This made me feel like a schoolboy, and I never lost the feeling of
extreme youth in his eyes. I believe now that his terrific silence, his
explosive rages, mock ceremoniousness, and startling alternations were
all parts of his method towards his pupils, for my experiences of them
were not peculiar. I have seen him cow a whole class by a lift of his
great square head, and most certainly, whatever scandalous acts may have
disgraced the university in my time, they never occurred where Dr.
Lanfranchi was engaged. Burly, bulky, blotched as he was, dirty in his
person, and in his dress careless to the point of scandal, he had the
respect of every student of the Bo. He was prodigiously learned and a
great eater. The amount of liquid he could absorb would pass belief: it
used to be said among us that he drank most comfortably, like a horse,
out of a bucket. His lectures were extraordinary, crammed with
erudition, which proceeded from him by gasps, jerks, and throttled cries
for mercy on his failing breath, and illustrated by personalities of the
most shocking description--he spared no deformity or defect of any one
of us if it happened to engage his eye. Sometimes a whole hour's lecture
would be consumed in a scandalous tale of Rome or Naples, sometimes
indeed it would be a reminiscence of his own youthful days, which
policy, if not propriety, should have counselled him to omit. Yet, as I
say, he never lost the respect of the class, but was feared, served, and
punctually obeyed.
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