Vivian GreyDisraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
ReligionIslamic
Vivian Grey
Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
Bildungsromans; British -- Europe -- Fiction; Political fiction; Politicians -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
“Almost as beautiful as an Italian winter day, Mr. St. Leger?” asked
Miss Fane.
“Hardly!” said St. Anthony, with a serious air; for he imagined the
question to be quite genuine.
The carriages are at the door; into the first ascended Mrs. Fitzloom,
two daughters, and the travelling saints. The second bore Lady
Madeleine, Mr. Fitzloom, and his two sons; the third division was formed
of Mr. St. George and Aurelia Fitzloom, Miss Fane and Vivian.
Away, away, rolled the carriages; the day was beautiful, the sky was
without a cloud, and a mild breeze prevented the heat of the sun from
being overpowering. All were in high spirits; for St. George had made a
capital master of the ceremonies, and had arranged the company in the
carriages to their mutual satisfaction. St. Anthony swore, by the soul
of Psyche! that Augusta Fitzloom was an angel; and St. John was in equal
raptures with Araminta, who had an expression about the eyes which
reminded him, of Titian’s Flora. Mrs. Fitzloom’s natural silence did not
disturb the uninterrupted jargon of the Santi, whose foppery elicited
loud and continued approbation from the fair sisters. The mother sat
admiring these sprigs of noble trees. The young Fitzlooms, in crimson
cravats, conversed with Lady Madeleine with a delightful military air;
and their happy parent, as he gazed upon them with satisfied affection,
internally promised them both a commission in a crack regiment.
The road from Ems to Nassau winds along the banks of the Lahn, through
two leagues of delightful scenery; at the end of which, springing up
from the peak of a bold and richly-wooded mountain, the lofty tower of
the ancient castle of Nassau meets your view. Winding walks round the
sides of the mountain lead through all the varieties of sylvan scenery,
and command in all points magnificent views of the surrounding country.
These finally bring you to the old castle, whose spacious chambers,
though now choked up with masses of grey ruin or covered with underwood,
still bear witness to the might of their former lord! the powerful Baron
whose sword gained for his posterity a throne.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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