End of the world -- Fiction; Epidemics -- Fiction; Science fiction; Twenty-first century -- Fiction
if his hair, slightly mingled with grey, and his look, considerate even
in its eagerness, gave signs of added years and past sufferings, yet
there was something irresistibly affecting in the sight of one, lately
snatched from the grave, renewing his career, untamed by sickness or
disaster. The Athenians saw in him, not as heretofore, the heroic boy
or desperate man, who was ready to die for them; but the prudent
commander, who for their sakes was careful of his life, and could make
his own warrior-propensities second to the scheme of conduct policy
might point out.
All Athens accompanied us for several miles. When he had landed a month
ago, the noisy populace had been hushed by sorrow and fear; but this
was a festival day to all. The air resounded with their shouts; their
picturesque costume, and the gay colours of which it was composed,
flaunted in the sunshine; their eager gestures and rapid utterance
accorded with their wild appearance. Raymond was the theme of every
tongue, the hope of each wife, mother or betrothed bride, whose
husband, child, or lover, making a part of the Greek army, were to be
conducted to victory by him.
Notwithstanding the hazardous object of our journey, it was full of
romantic interest, as we passed through the vallies, and over the
hills, of this divine country. Raymond was inspirited by the intense
sensations of recovered health; he felt that in being general of the
Athenians, he filled a post worthy of his ambition; and, in his hope of
the conquest of Constantinople, he counted on an event which would be
as a landmark in the waste of ages, an exploit unequalled in the annals
of man; when a city of grand historic association, the beauty of whose
site was the wonder of the world, which for many hundred years had been
the strong hold of the Moslems, should be rescued from slavery and
barbarism, and restored to a people illustrious for genius,
civilization, and a spirit of liberty. Perdita rested on his restored
society, on his love, his hopes and fame, even as a Sybarite on a
luxurious couch; every thought was transport, each emotion bathed as it
were in a congenial and balmy element.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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