Three Courses and a Dessert: Comprising Three Sets of Tales, West Country, Irish, and Legal; and a MelangeClarke, William
General
Three Courses and a Dessert: Comprising Three Sets of Tales, West Country, Irish, and Legal; and a Melange
Clarke, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Legal stories, English; West Country (England) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“As I hope to be vorgiven vor all I've done here below, he is;” replied
his wife.
“Meg, Meg!” said Saul, dropping on a bench, and throwing himself back
against the wall; “you ha' turned me zick as a dog.” Margaret and her
daughter now threw themselves about Braintree's neck again, and began to
weep and wail in the most violent and passionate manner: Saul remained
motionless only for a few moments. “Gi'e me air,” said he, suddenly
pushing them aside and leaping up; “I be choking! I'd gi'e the
world now, if I had it, that instead o' zhooting Phil, Phil had zhot
I!--Deceived! bevooled! in thic vashion!--Meg, doan't thee bide near me,
or I shall lay hands on thee presently; I do know I shall.”
“I don't vear thee, Saul,” said Meg; “thee never didst lay a vinger in
wrath on me yet. If thee'rt a' minded to kill me, do't!--I wont vly vrom
the blow.--My Bobby in gaol, accused of murder, and my husband guilty of
doing it!”
“You lie, you vool!” vociferated Saul; “'twere no murder! We vought,
hand to hand, vor life or vor death, and I got the best o't. If I hadn't
a' killed he, he'd ha' killed I; zo how can'ee make it murder?”
“The lord judge will make it out so, I fear,” said Peggy; “won't he,
think you, mother?”
“No doubt on't; and Saul knows it,” replied Meg. “Oh! Bob, my child--my
dear--dear boy!”
“Good night, Meg!” interrupted Saul. “I be off;--you do know I can't
abide to hear a woman howl.”
“But where art gwain, Saul?”
“No matter;--thou'lt hear time enough o' me:--good night!”
“Nay, but what'll thee do?--Peggy, down on thy knees wi' me, girl, and
beg him to tell us, what we be to do!--Oh! Saul--bide a bit; I woan't
let thee see a tear--look, they be all scorched up.--I won't vex thee,
any way, if thou'lt but bide and Comfort us.”
“Doan't cling to me zo,” said Saul, struggling to rid himself of the
embraces of his wife and daughter, who clung about his knees;--“it be
no use; let go, or I'll hurt'ee!--There now,” continued he, as he freed
himself, “once vor all, good night. It won't do vor I to bide here
another minute.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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