The Voyage of Captain PopanillaDisraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
General
The Voyage of Captain Popanilla
Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
Utopias -- Fiction
‘She must be a sea-goddess!’ said the males.
‘A Triton!’ maintained the women.
‘A Nereid!’ argued the men.
‘It is a great fish!’ said the boys.
Thanks to the Universal Linguist, Captain Popanilla, under these
peculiar circumstances, was more loquacious than could have been Captain
Parry.
‘Good people! you see before you the most injured of human beings.’
This announcement inspired general enthusiasm. The women wept, the men
shook hands with him, and all the boys huzzaed. Popanilla proceeded:--
‘Actuated by the most pure, the most patriotic, the most noble, the most
enlightened, and the most useful sentiments, I aspired to ameliorate the
condition of my fellowmen. To this grand object I have sacrificed all
that makes life delightful: I have lost my station in society, my taste
for dancing, my popularity with the men, my favour with the women;
and last, but, oh! not least (excuse this emotion), I have lost a very
particular lock of hair. In one word, my friends, you see before you,
banished, ruined, and unhappy, the victim of a despotic sovereign, a
corrupt aristocracy, and a misguided people.’
No sooner had he ceased speaking than Popanilla really imagined that he
had only escaped the dangers of sedition and the sea to expire by less
hostile, though not less effective, means. To be strangled was not
much better than to be starved: and certainly, with half-a-dozen highly
respectable females clinging round his neck, he was not reminded for
the first time in his life what a domestic bowstring is an affectionate
woman. In an agony of suffocation he thought very little of his arms,
although the admiration of the men had already, in his imagination,
separated these useful members from his miserable body and had it not
been for some justifiable kicking and plunging, the veneration of the
ingenuous and surrounding youth, which manifested itself by their active
exertions to divide his singular garment into relics of a martyr of
liberty, would soon have effectually prevented the ill-starred Popanilla
from being again mistaken for a Nereid. Order was at length restored,
and a committee of eight appointed to regulate the visits of the
increasing mob.
The arrangements were judicious; the whole populace was marshalled into
ranks; classes of twelve persons were allowed consecutively to walk past
the victim of tyranny, corruption, and ignorance; and each person had
the honour to touch his finger. During this proceeding, which lasted a
few hours, an influential personage generously offered to receive
the eager subscriptions of the assembled thousands. Even the boys
subscribed, and ere six hours had passed since his arrival as a coatless
vagabond in this liberal city, Captain Popanilla found himself a person
of considerable means.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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