The Strange Adventures of Captain Dangerous, Vol. 1: Who was a sailor, a soldier, a merchant, a spy, a slave; among the moors...Sala, George Augustus
General
The Strange Adventures of Captain Dangerous, Vol. 1: Who was a sailor, a soldier, a merchant, a spy, a slave; among the moors...
Sala, George Augustus
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction
sorry mocks and sneers as to the velvet of her funeral coffer being
nearer Purple than Crimson in its hue, and of my mourning cloak being
edged with a narrow strip of a Violet tinge,--as though to hint in some
wise that my Grandmother was foregathered, either by descent or by
marital alliance, with Royalty,--I take little account. 'Tis not every
one who is sprung from the loins of a King who cares to publish the
particulars of his lineage, and John Dangerous may perchance be one of
such discreet men.
The doctors had been so long in the house that their names and their
faces were familiar to me, not indeed as friends, but as that kind of
acquaintance one may see every day for twenty years, and be not very
grieved some morning if news comes that they are dead. Such an
eye-acquaintance passes my windows every morning. I know his face, his
form, his hat and coat, the very tie of his wig and the fashion of his
shoe-buckle; but he is no more to me than I am haply to him, and there
would be scant weeping, I opine, between us if either of us were to die.
So I knew these doctors and regarded them little, wondering only why
they ate and drank so much, and could so ill conceal their hatred as to
be calling foul names, and well-nigh threatening fisticuffs, while the
corpse of my Grandmother was in the house. But of the body of those who
were bidden to this sad ceremony, I had no knowledge whatsoever. For
aught I knew, they might have been players or bullies and Piccadilly
captains, or mere undertaker's men dressed up in fine clothes; yet,
believe me, it is no foolish pride, or a dead vanity, that prompts me to
surmise that there were those who came to my Grandmother's funeral who
had a Claim to be reckoned amongst the very noblest and proudest in the
land. Beneath the great mourning cloaks and scarves, I could see
diamond stars glistening, and the brave sheen of green and crimson
ribbons. I desire in this particularity to confine myself strictly to
the Truth, and therefore make no vain boast of a Blue Ribbon being seen
there, thus denoting the presence of a Knight of the most noble Order of
the Garter. I leave it to mine enemies to lie, and to cowardly Jacks to
boast of their own exploits. This brave gathering was not void of women;
but they were closely veiled and impenetrably shrouded in their mourning
weeds, so that of their faces and their figures I am not qualified to
speak; and if you would ask me that which I remember chiefly of the
noble gentlemen who were present, I can say with conscience, that beyond
their stars and ribbons, I was only stricken by their monstrous and
portentous Periwigs, which towered in the candle-light like so many
great tufts of plumage atop of the Pope's Baldaquin, which I have seen
so many times staggering through the great aisles of St. Peter's at
Rome.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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