The Romany Rye: A sequel to "Lavengro"Borrow, George
General
The Romany Rye: A sequel to "Lavengro"
Borrow, George
Adventure stories; England -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
moreover, the noise of the thing has got abroad, and everybody is
laughing at me, and what’s more, coming and drinking my beer, and going
away without paying for it, whilst I feel myself like one bewitched,
wishing but not daring to take my own part. Confound the fellow in
black, I wish I had never seen him! yet what can I do without him? The
brewer swears that unless I pay him fifty pounds within a fortnight he’ll
send a distress warrant into the house, and take all I have. My poor
niece is crying in the room above; and I am thinking of going into the
stable and hanging myself; and perhaps it’s the best thing I can do, for
it’s better to hang myself before selling my soul than afterwards, as I’m
sure I should, like Judas Iscariot, whom my poor niece, who is somewhat
religiously inclined, has been talking to me about.” “I wish I could
assist you,” said I, “with money, but that is quite out of my power.
However, I can give you a piece of advice. Don’t change your religion by
any means; you can’t hope to prosper if you do; and if the brewer chooses
to deal hardly with you, let him. Everybody would respect you ten times
more provided you allowed yourself to be turned into the roads rather
than change your religion, than if you got fifty pounds for renouncing
it.” “I am half-inclined to take your advice,” said the landlord; “only,
to tell you the truth, I feel quite low, without any heart in me.” “Come
into the bar,” said I, “and let us have something together—you need not
be afraid of my not paying for what I order.”
We went into the bar-room, where the landlord and I discussed between us
two bottles of strong ale, which he said were part of the last six which
he had in his possession. At first he wished to drink sherry, but I
begged him to do no such thing, telling him that sherry would do him no
good under the present circumstances; nor, indeed, to the best of my
belief, under any, it being of all wines the one for which I entertained
the most contempt. The landlord allowed himself to be dissuaded, and
after a glass or two of ale, confessed that sherry was a sickly,
disagreeable drink, and that he had merely been in the habit of taking it
from an idea he had that it was genteel. Whilst quaffing our beverage,
he gave me an account of the various mortifications to which he had of
late been subject, dwelling with particular bitterness on the conduct of
Hunter, who he said came every night and mouthed him, and afterwards went
away without paying for what he had drank or smoked, in which conduct he
was closely imitated by a clan of fellows who constantly attended him.
After spending several hours at the public-house I departed, not
forgetting to pay for the two bottles of ale. The landlord, before I
went, shaking me by the hand, declared that he had now made up his mind
to stick to his religion at all hazards, the more especially as he was
convinced he should derive no good by giving it up.
CHAPTER XIV.
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