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SELECT
COMIC T^LES.
JOHN AUDLEV.
John Audley was a good simple soul, a pa-
rish-clerk and a cobler, and lived at Eccleston
in Lancashire ; where he had many years
exercised these respectable functions, entire-
ly to his own satisfaction, and. generally
speaking, to the content of the good folks
of the village. His talents were held in
much estimation by the lads and lasses in
the neighbourhood ; he had assisted at most
of the christenings, mended their shoes, cut
their valentines, pronounced Amen, and sung
Arthur O'Bradley at their weddings ; and
was famous for having himself, three seve-
ral times in his life, seen the Shrieking Wo-
man, and the apparition of the Murdered
Tinker. He also told more stories of ghosts
and hobgoblins than an}^ person in Eccles-
ton, Dame Dickinson the midwife alone ex-
cepted.
A
2073077
b JOHN AUDLEY.
John Audley's customers, like the houses
of the parish where he lived, lay scattered.
He had been, on a vrinter evening, to car-
ry home a pair of mended shoes to farm-er
JJown's ; and was returning, by moon-light,
half petrified with fear, and endeavouring to
whistle away from remembrance the story of
the Tall Woman in White, and her Headless
Horse; when suddenly a four-footed crea-
ture brushed b}^ him, and a voice thundered
through his ears — ' -^^J/? Firetail ! Firttail
— Ah^ sirrah ! here^ devil, here !' — ' Lord
have mercy upon me !' said John Audley,
and again the thing passed him, swift as dust
blown by a whirlwind. John's legs were ex-
ceedingly willing to run, but wanted the
power, and therefore stopped. His eyes
were fixed upon two animals tliat he saw ap-
proaching: ; they appeared of a frightful mag-
nitude and figure : one of them walked up-
right, and the other on all-fours ; both had
heads as rough as a Russian bear, and both
grew bijjfjer and bigaer as thev drew near.
' In the name of the Father, Son, and — '
' Bow, wow !' replied Firetail, cutting short
John Audley's invocation,—' Ah, rascal !
keep close, devil !' said the upright appari-
tion,- and Firetail growled and retreated.
' Lord have mercy upon me !' again said
John Audley, wiio imagined the devil was
only restrained for a moment, that he might
JOHN AUDLEY. /
leturn with ^jjreater fuiy. ^ How now,
friend !' said Firelail's master, ' ^Vhat, are
you at })rayers in this place ? What do you
do down upon your marrow-bones ?' — ' I
charge yon, in the name of God,' answered
John, ' tell me, be you a Christian, a ghost,
or a devil ?' — ' Neither.' — ' \yh-wh-what
are you, then ?' — , A merry fellow, a travel-
ler, and, moreover, a story- teller/ — ' And
is not that an evil spirit by your side Y —
' An evil spirit ! — What, Firetail? — A bottle-
coMJurer !' — ' Lord preserve me !' — ' A calf's
head and cabbage. Lie down, sirrah i Be
quiet, dog's face ! — You would find him an
evil spirit if I were to let him loose upon
you, perhaps.' — ' i pray you, don't! — I
pray you, don't ! — My name's John Audley
— I am a poor harmless man, and a parish-
clerk, and mortally afraid of evil spirits.'
John Audley, by the arguments of the
stranger, was half inclmed, after a deal of
persuasion, to believe him real flesh and
blood; that Firetail was a rough Newfound-
land dog ; and that the hairy head of his
master was a shaggy goat-skin cap, made in
a whimsical form ; so that the eyes (that is,
eyes of glass) face, and hoins, were preserv-
ed. Such an apparition, at such a time,
and in such a place, might have startled a
stouter man than John Audley : but though
lie began to suspect him not to be actually
A %
8 JOHN AUDLEY.
the devil, he remained firmly persuaded he
must be a conjuror at least ; and this opinion
was confirmed, both by his head-dress, which
exactly tallied with John's ideas of a con-
juror, and his sudden supernatural appear-
ance ; as supernatural indeed it was to him,
whose fear had swallowed up his senses.
' And pray. Sir,' said John Audley, as
they were jogging on together, * What may
your name be ?' — ' Andrew Errant/ — ' And
where be you going to-night ?' — As far as
your house, friend ; where, with your leave,
I intend to sup and sleep.' — John Audley's
pulse again began to quicken ; he was afraid
to say yes, but still more afraid to say no ;
lie would have told a lie, and said he had
neither meat nor bed, had he not thought
the conjuror knew to the contrary, and would
take some desperate revenge : at last he
stammered out, ' Yo-you-your w^orship shall
be very welcome.'
jMr Errant was a very communicative
person : and, as they walked along, inform-
ed his companion, that he was of a merry,
happy temper, loved rambling, hated employ-
ment, and was blessed with a quick imagina-
tion, and a good memory, by means of which
he contrived to live ; in short, that he was,
by trade, a story-teller ; a trade formerly in
great request, but now grown obsolete, he
being the only one who at present lived by
JOHN AUDLEY. 9
it professionally ; not one word of all which
John Audley believed. Mr Errant added,
that whether it was for the want of rivals,
or his own excellence, he could not absolutely
determine ; but that he had been very suc-
cessful in his attempts, and that he never vi.
sited a family a second time Avho were not very
glad to see him, and who did not make a little
feast to entertain lum whenever he cailed.
John Audley understood by this, that the
conjuror loved good eating and drinknig ;
and for once he was not mistaken.
Mr Errant continued giving farther traits
of his talents and character ; such as, that
he had a large assortment of stories, humo-
rous, marvellous, terrible, and tender ; that
he always studied the temper and disposi-
tions of his hearers before he began ; and
that the faculty he had of suiting his histo-
ry to his host, was, as he believed, the prin-
cipal cause of his success. * You, now, ho
nest John Audley,' said he, ' I am sure, are
very attentive to any tale of a ghost ; and so,
I warrant, is your good wife."* John Audley
blessed himself, ' How well he knows my
name .' (He had forgot that he himself had
told it.) He knows I have a wife too, and
knows — lie knows every thing !' Such were
John's silent cogitations, when they arriv-
ed at his cottage.
John Audiey's dwelling was snug, well
A 3
10 JOHN AUDLEY.
thatched, and warm ; the inside was deco-
rated with shelves, on which the white and
well- scoured wooden dishes and trenchers
were placed in rows : beneath which were
pasted King Charles's Golden Rules, Death
and the Lady, with various miraculous his-
tories of angels that appeared in white robes
to ministers of the gospel, and devils that
carried away perjured lovers, Sabbath-break-
ers, and blasphemers, in flashes of fire, to
the astonishment and ten or of all beholders.
John Audley opened his door, winked to
his wife Dorothy with significant terror, and
told her he had brought home a very honest
gentleman, to give him a bed for the night,
and a bit of such meat as she had in the house.
Dorothy, who was not in the habit of paying
implicit obedience to her husband's man-
dates, was going to put in a caveat ; and
John, who knew by her physiognomy she
would not be nice in her choice of words,
sidled up to her and whispered in her ear —
' Hold thy foolish tongue; do not be curst
* — ■ 'tis a conjuror !' — Dorothy had almost
as great respect for, or rather fear of, con-
jurors, as John Audley himself ; her counte-
nance changed, she dropt a curtsey, placed
a stool, cast a look at the cap and the dog,
trembled, and desired the gentleman would
sit do.\ n, and drew her countenance into a
4emure form.
JOHN AUDLEF. 11
' Thou hadst better kill the young cock,
and boil him with a bit of bacon/ said John.
*■ I will,' replied Dorothy ! and went about
it, though it grieved her to the heart — she
could have sold him for ninepence at Prescot
market.
She presently returned with the victim
in her hand ; telling John Audley, as she
entered, with an expressive look and em-
phasis, that she had not the least difficulty
in catching him, but that, on the contrary,
he had flown into her arms
Although the talkative and frank disposi-
tion of JVJr Errant was some relief to the
awakened fears of John and Dorothy, it
could not make them totally subside ; and
as fear is nearly related to cunning, it in-
spired John with a thought, w^hich he im-
agined would act like a charm in his favour,
supposing the conjuror should be inclined to
be mischievous, from the nature of such ani-
mals, which he believed to be exceedingly
probable. This was no other, than to reach
down the bible, and sit upon it ; which John
Audley effected with great slyness and dex-
terity. We have before remarked, that
John was of the Gentle Craft ; and it is here
necessary to observe, that there was a ball
of shoemaker's wax, which by accident had
been laid upon the bible, over which, being
near the fire, it had spread ; and this, in h;^
12 JOHN AUDLEY.
anxiety to cheat the devil, or (which is
much the same) the conjuror, John Audley
had never noticed, but placed it under next
his breech, which being thus in contact with
the bible, he hoped might secure his body
against the power of magic.
Mr Errant, whose profession in some
measure implied a ready wit, and a certain
knowledge of the heart, observed the work-
ing of that powerful sorceress Fancy upon the
spirits of John and Dorothy, determined to
convert it to his own amusement. ' I will
tellyou the story of the Bleeding Finger, good
folks,' said he ; ' it is very strange, and very
true : it will divert us while the pot is boil-
ing, and I dare say you w^ill like to hear it.'
The Slorj/ of the Bleeding Finger.
' There lived a magician in days of
old, who had power over the winds and
waves ; whose word could command the
demons of the deep, and the spirits of the
air durst not disobey his will. This magi-
cian was hekl to be a sociable, merry, good
sort of person when pleased, considering he
was a magician ; for, you must understand,
conjurors, wizards, necromancers, and ma-
gicians, are very tetchy and revengeful, and
never fail to send their imps and goblins,
to torment such ns afi'ronfc or use tliem dis-
respectfully.
JOHN AUDLEY. 13
' The name of this magician was Tomo-
<rorod, which signifies Eat^him-up ; and he
had a daughter, called Holakaree, that is
to say, Blood-sucker, who was an enchan
tress. Whenever either of them went
abroad, they had at least one spirit to attend
them, who was sometimes disguised in the
form of a bear, at others in a monkey or cat,
and sometimes in the likeness of a huge
mastiff; mostly, for expedition's sake, they
travelled through the air, and then they
were usually drawn by four flaming torches,
followed by fiends in the shape of tadpoles,
who were so numerous, that their swarms
darkened the air.
' Tomogorod," as I have said, ' was not
much inclined to mischief, unless provoked ;
but woe be to any one that affronted him !
If he asked a clownish fellow where he was
going, and the lout returned a saucy answer,
he would fix him astride upon the next stile
without the power of movmg, or turn him
into a pitchfork, and give him his own shape
again when any body had stuck him up to
the hilts in a dunghill. His name denoted
him to be a lover of good living, and he
always behaved civilly to such as gave him
the best they had to eat.
' Holakaree, his daughter, who was of an
ambitious temper, had the wickedness to
fall in love with the king's son, a youth of
14 JOHN AUDLEY.
three and twenty, of a sweet disposition, and
the most charming person in tlie world. His
name was Dullmond, which means Dimple-
face, and he was the sole heir to the crown.
It happened one day, while he was hunting,
that he saw the most beautiful blue hair run
bj him that eyes had ever beheld, and he
was so charmed with the appearance of that
strange animal, that he could not forbear leav-
ing his other sport to follow this new game.
He presently lost sight of his courtiers and
attendants ; who, as people often are, were
more intent upon their diversion than their
duty.
' He followed the animal for more than
half an hour ; and being mounted upon a
swift Arabian courser, seemed every instant
to be within a hair's-breadth of catching her ;
when presently his eye was attracted, by the
descent of an eagle, that darted upon the
hare, and rose with an incredible swiftness,
till they were both lost in the clouds. While
the prince stood gazing, and looking after
the eagle and her prey, which still remained
like a speck upon his sight, the sky began
to lower, the heavens darkened, and the dis-
tant thunders rolled. The prince looked
round, but saw neither place of refif'ge nor
human being. The storm increased; the
elements, with dreadful bursts, seemed to
crack and split over his very head ; and the
JOHN AUDLEY. 15
fires of the firmament darted their forked
and penetrating essence into the torn bosom
of the earth. Hut what astonished him most
was, that though tlie waters appeared to
stream from the heavens on every side of
him, not a hair of his head, nor a thread of
his garments, were wet. The heart of Du-
limond was as the heart of a lion ; he was
awed, but not dismayed.
' While his eyes were endeavouring to
trace the uncertain path of the life-snatch-
ing lightning, and his ears filled with the ter-
rific tumults of the sky, he beheld, not far
above him, a bright cloud, that seemed in the
centre to be a lambent flame, and whence
issued a voice loud and impulsive, but sweet
as music in dreams, which pronounced dis-
tinctly the following words :
" Beware of her with a Golden Thumb.
Follow the Bleeding Finger-
Plunge, fearless, into the Lake of Bitterness,
to recover the white wand of Orophalis.
Dangers encompass you : be virtuous, bold,
and obedient ; or you perish."
^ The voice ceased, and the rain, and the
thunder, and the lightning, were no more ;
the sun was resplendent, the forest had van-
ished, and the scene was changed. Vallies
of a thousand different reviving shades of
16 JOHN AUDLEY.
green were seen on every side ; aromatic
shrubs, flowers, and vai'ious trees, were scat-
tered round, and distant lakes, and more
distant mountains, were in view.
' The prince, filled with wonder at all
these strange accidents, was sunk deep in
reflection ; insomuch, that his eyes were fix-
ed, and his soul absorbed by the cogitations
of his mind ; when he was awakened from
his trance by the voice of a lady, who sweet-
ly and courteously demanded, if he could
direct her to the palace of the Seven Dj-a-
gons. Dulimond started, looked up, and was
again fixed in astonishment. Never before
had he beheld such perfections, such grace,
such features ! Seated upon a milk-white
courser, with hair that descended in waving
ringlets upon her horse's back, and a face
more beauteous than the face of Nature at the
sun's rising, this lady looked like a spirit of
heaven, and not an inhabitant of the earth.
She was obliged to repeat her question ; and
the prince, respectfully bowing, answered,
he never before had heard of such a palace.
The lady gracefully inclined her head in
token of thanks, and passed swiftly forward ;
while the prince, ravished with the angelic
apparition, gave his steed the rein, kept
within sight of her, and forgot the scenes
that had so lately happened.
' They rode that way for more than an
JOHN AUDLEY. 17
hour, at a hai'd rate, when they came to a
vast forest. The prince, who had a pierc-
ing eye, beheki an inscription as he was
riding by the side of the forest; and stoping
a moment in hopes of learning some intelli-
gence, whereby he might oblige the lady, he
read —
•' This leads to the Palace of the Seven Dragons."
' The prince immediately put spurs to his
horse ; and, gently calling after the lady,
beckoned her to return. She, who seemed
to have slackened her pace when Dulimond
stopped, presently heard, and obeyed. As
she approached the j)rince, she thanked
him with the most winning words and action;
whilst he, ravished with her charms and con-
descension, pi'ayed to be admitted to escort
her to the palace. The lady again gave a
courteoiis reply, and they entered the forest
together. They had not proceeded far,
before they lost all sight of the surrounding
country, and were buried in a gloom so
thick, that light could scarcely penetrate.
As they rode on, strange noises saluted their
ears ; sometimes, as it were, the faint groan-
ings of the dying ; at others, the tierce
bowlings of wild beasts in torture ; and then
again like the whizzing of sky-rockets, ac-
companied V. ith loud, confused, and innu-
B
18 JOHN AUDLEY.
merable shrieks and screams, as though the
spirits of the air were battling till the very
elements were tormented. Visions, as
strange as the sounds they heard, likewise
molested their journey : at one instant, a
head without a body would seem to dance
backward before them, sometimes with ghast-
ly looks, and sometimes with grimaces,
mewing at them ; at another, serpents, the
bodies of w4iich were black, their eyes flam-
ing, and their tales triply divided, with a
sting at the end of each, seemed to threaten
the travellers : but, w hat w^as more remark-
able, an urchin, that lay in the path at the
entrance of the forest, became a ball of fire,
and rolled itself along before them, as if to di-
rect them in the rout they should pursue.
' Dulimond was not more astonished at
these things than at the behaviour of the lady ;
who continued her w^ay undismayed, and
almost without noticing such strange events,
notwithstanding that the demons (for the
forest was eachanted) became more dread-
fully terrible in their howls and shrieks, and
unnatural shapes, the farther they proceeded.
However, if a lady had the courage to go
on, it was not for Dulimond to recede ! It
almost appeared unmanly to draw his sabre ;
but from doing this it was scarcely possible
to refrain, so fearfully were they beset. Nor
could the dangers to v»hich they were ex-
JOHN AUDLEY. 19
posed hinder the i)riiK'e from thinking on
his most beautiful companion with rapture.
Her demeanour, her form, her wit, and her
fortitude, made him consider her as a miracle;
and he found his aifii^ctions so totally enslav-
ed, as to be absolutely irretrievable. How
could he forbear to admire, when he heard
her only utter some short exclamation at
the moment that the fiends were most hor-
rible and insolent, and when he saw her
turn and smile with ineffable sweetness upon
him, as it were to wish him not to fear or
suffer on her account ? This he esteemed
a noble generosity of soul ; and he could
not but adore her who was capable of such
heroic exertion.
' They came at length to the other side
of the forest ; and the urchin of fire that
accompanied them bounded from the earth,
and gambolled in the air with a thousand
antic motions- Instead, however, of an
open country, they beheld a black rock, the
front of whicli extended farther tlian sight,
and its summit lay beyond the clouds. As
they approached it, they read in huge and
transparent characters,
" This is the entrance to the Palace of the Seven Dra-
gons."
" How,'" cried Dulimond, " this the en-
trance ! Here is no entrance ; this is a vast
D2
20 JOHN AUDLEY.
and solid rock : a rock of marble ; and all
the powers of nature cannot enter here !""
' The lady smiled, alighted nimbly from
her horse, approached the place of the in-
scription, and stretched forth her arm. She
laid her thumb, her Golden Thumb, upon
the marble, when instantaneous thunder
rolled, and the massy front of the rock open-
ed.
' Imagine what was the astonishment of
Dulimond, and what his grief, when he be-
held this miracle performed by the Lady
with the Golden Thumb ! his heart sunk in
his bosom, and his arm fell nerveless by his
side. Yet this was no time for despondency ;
danger was before him, behind him, and on
every side of him ; and the crisis of his fate
drew on.
' The chasm of the rock had remained open
some minutes, the prince stood plunged in
sorrowful supense, and the lady seemed at-
tending on his coming. A voice proclaim-
ed —
*' Let not such as would enter the Palace of the Seven
Dragons linger, for the Rock of Sculls is about to close."
' At the same moment, Dulimond beheld
a naked arm, with the fore-finger slowly
dropping blood, and pointing the way to
the palace of the Seven Dragons. The
JOHN AUDLET. 21
vision, though horrible, gave him pleasure ;
his heart was with the lady ; and he rejoiced
that his duty furnished him with an excuse
to follow his inclinations.
' The prince had bui just time to make
the passage of the rock before it shut ; and had
he been a moment later, it would have closed
upon him ; which accident having happened
to many, it was called the Rock of fclcuUs.
They proceeded onward till they came to a
bridge, where lay the Seven Dragons, whence
the palace derived it's name, ^t their ap-
proach, all these liorrible monsters lashed
their prodigious tails, opened their destruc-
tive jaws (set all over with teeth like har-
rows), and ])rojected their long and forked
tongues ; and, with an insatiate fury, were
flying upon JJulimond. Mortal resistance
to such enemies seemed vain, and death in-
evitable ; when, at the very instant they
were about to seize on the prince, the lady
lield forth the Golden Thumb, and they
dropped senseless to the earth in a profound
sleep.
' They passed the bridge, and drew near
to the palace, which was the most superb
that eyes ever beheld. Its magnitude and
architecture iillcd the mind witn grandeur,
and the richness of its ornaments dazzled
the sight to behold. They came at last to a
place where the road divided ; one v/ay went
13 3
22 JOHN AUDLEY.
directly forward, and the other deviated to
the left, which led to the palace. On the
confines of the latter stood troops of nymphs,
whom none could equal in beauty, the Lady
with the Golden Thumb alone excepted, and
such as imagination only has seen. Some
of them played on instruments, the sound
of which ravished the ear ; others danced
with such delightful motion, as put mortal
senses into a delirium of pleasure. They
were come to meet the lady and prince,
and this way were they proceeding, when
Dulimond beheld the Bleeding Finger point
the contrary road. He stopped, he looked,
he con>idered, his bosom heaved a pro-
found sigh, the war within him was strong,
and his body was motionless. The lady
did not persuade him by words, she took a
more pov^-erfui method ; her looks, sorrow-
ful a^d dejected ; her eyes, with all the well-
feigned grief of poverty, told him, that in
him was all her happiness centered; with him
she should be blessed ; without him miser-
able. Neither did she remind him of the
dangers to which he had been exposed, and
from which he had been preserved by her;
tiierefore Dulimouil remembered them the
more forcibly. His heart was enslaved by
her beauty, he could no longer resist her
cliarms, and again lie began to follow her ;
when the air was filled with the mobt dole-
JOHN AUDLEY. 23
ful wailings, and the finger of the naked arm
began to stream with blood.
' The heart of Diilimond was stronglj
virtuous : he had been nurtured in a sub-
lime morality. The remembrance of the
firm resolutions he had so often made, to
persevere amidst all temptations in the paths
of rectitude and honour, came with a gleam
of heroic ardour upon his mind, elevated his
soul, and made it equal to the glorious con-
test. He turned bis eyes from the witche-
ries of passion and pleasure, and, with a de-
termined spirit, followed the naked arm ; the
blood again more slowly dropped ; but the
vast concave of the sky became tortured
with shrieks, cries, and bowlings, so pierc-
ing, that distraction would have seized any
one of less virtue and courage than Duli-
mond.
' Undaunted did he follow his bleeding
guide, though the fiends now transformed
themselves into ten thousand hideous shapes,
and chattered at, insulted, and assaulted
him, with a hundred-fold more malignity
and fury, than they did in his passage
through the inchanted forest. He came at
length to the Lake of Bitterness ; but who
can describe the dreadiul, horrible, and dis-
gusting animals, by which its waters were
guarded ! On the surface, vipers, water-
snakes, and dun-coloured serpents, hissed
24 JOHN AUDLEY.
terror with their forked tongues. At the
border lay toads, with starting eyes and vast
bloated bodies ; their mouths just above the
water, diving sometimes beneath the slimy
sedge, while the lake bubbled poison, and
again ascending to the water's edge. The
bottom was covered over with liiArds, newts,
and efts, darting upon their prey ; reptiles,
with speckled bellies and a hundred legs,
that shot swift as an arrow from a bow,
whither their voracity or malice willed ;
and spiders, so huge and inflated, that the
sha^fied hair of their bodies was like tne
bristles of the hunted boar ; and their eyes,
globular and projecting, were as the eyes of
tigers watching whom they might devour.
' All these, and innumerable others for
which nature has no likeness, immediately,
on the approach of Dulimond, ceased their
obscene sports, and rancorous wars, on one
another ; and, with their million of mouth?;,
came in voracious swarms, as if in expectation
of their prey. Humanity shuddered, and
shrunk : it was a sight of horror.
' The naked arm, in the mean time, rest-
ed over the centre of the lake, tlie finger
ceased to bleed, and pointed downward.
Thither the prince cast his eye, and bh eld
the while wand of Orophalis ; he st.ayed
not to consider on the danger ; but qu^ tted
his steed, and threw himself, fearless, into
JOHN AUDLEY. 25
the Lake of Bitterness. His arm divided
the waters ; and thoii;5h his body seemed to
be penetrated and torn by a host of these
devouring reptiles, he still had the power to
proceed. He arrived at the spot ; and, un-
terrified, plunged to the bottom. The earth
shook ; the heavens were on fire, and N;jture
seemed to groan, as though her end was
come. He seized the wand ; and, lo ! the
lake was no more ! He stood upon dry
land, his enemies were annihilated, and
himself unhurt.
' While he stood considering these things,
he heard a sound of a multitude singin:^
" Praises to the valorous Prince Duiimond,
who hath broken the charms of hell, and hath
delivered us from the spells of Holakaree."
He turned, and saw coming towards liim
troops of knights and ladies ; and, at their
Ivead, a venerable old man, leading as he
thought, the Lady of the Golden Thumb.
" Fear not, valorous prince," said the
aged knight; " your trials are past, and
your reward is come : this virgin is no en-
chantress."
' The happiness of Duiimond was ex-
treme, when he was informed, that Hola-
karee had assunied the beauteous form of
Bellimante; that the vile enchantress was
now no more : tliat his valour and viitue had
freed the most angelic princess of the uni-
26 JOHN AUDLEY.
verse, Iier father, and manj other noble
knights and ladies, who had fallen into her
snares. In his transport, he cast himself at
Bellimante's feet, and kissed her virgin hand,
which he was in extacj to find was not now
stigmatized by the Golden Thumb.
' As for the magician Tomogorod, he
became disconsolate for the loss of his daugh-
ter ; and, some say, he now wanders over
the face of the earth without a settled habi-
tation ; and that he is always attended by
one faithful demon, that assists him in his
wants, and revenges him upon his enemies.
' So ends the tale of the Bleeding Finger.''
It is easy to imagine, what effect a story
like this would have upon John Audley and
his dame Dorothy. Had not Mr Errant,
who still was attentive to the supper, occa-
sionally interrupted his narrative, to remind
his hostess of the pot's boiling, the cock and
bacon might have cooked themselves for
Dorothy. Blue hares, bleeding fingers, en-
chanted forests, and the rest of the machi-
nery, were things so amazing, so new, and
so true to them, that gaping astonishment,
terror, and agitation, possessed them wholly.
And though our narrator could not so far
degrade his subject as to lower his language
to their exact scale of comprehension, yet his
fine words, and fi^;urative expressions, gave
even at the fire-side of John Audley, a certain
JOHN AUDLEY. 27
dignity to his subject that made it more won-
derful.
It may be observed, too, with what art Mr
Errant threw in touches, which, though in
themselves foreign, and of a heterogeneous
nature to the subject, served his purpose.
Thus, though the magician was a character
inconsistent with and superfluous to the tale,
he was not so to Mr Errant. The insinu-
ation, that he was attended by the devil in
the shape of a dog, was not lost upon John
Audley ; and the concluding sentence, that
again revived this circumstance in his memo-
ry, had its due weight. In short, John's
imagination had been led such a dance,
and was so much disturbed, that he could
not be said precisely to know, if he was sit-
ting in a cottage, or in an enchanted castle.
Mr Errant had observed the incident of
the bible, as well as the wax that was at-
tached to it ; and waving his walkinfj-stick
in a circular and grave manner, touched it,
and demanded of John what it was he had
under him. John, Vrho doubted whether
the stick was a stick, or the wand of Oro-
phalis, replied, with a trembling voice —
* The-the-the bi-bible— bible, Sir,'—' The
bible I — are you sure it is the bible — or are
you sure it is actually there r" — I-l be-
lieve so, Sir,' — ' Be so good as to rise and
me see.* John trembled, rose, and look-
28 JOHN AUDLEY.
ed, but no bible was there.— His hair
wov.id have lifted his hat off, had it been
on. — ' The Lord of heaven bless me f said
John. — ' Christ have mercy upon me !' — ^
' What is that fastened to thy — "* said Do-
rothy. John clapped his hand behind,
and ejaculated — ' The Lord pardon me,
miserable sinner ; I am bewitched !' Mr
Errant could not forbear laughing at John's
distress : it was truly iudicrou? — John Aud-
ley was fully convinced he was now more firm-
ly married to the bible than ever he had been
to Dorothy herself; nay, and strange it may
seem, he thought the last the worst match
of the two. To carry such a wen for life
was not to be supported. John fell on his
knees — ' I pray and beseech you, for the
love of Heaven's mercy, almighty goodness,
and grace, Mr Conjurer, have pity on me —
I am a poor, innoceJit man ; I never meant
to offend your worship's goodness ; indeed,
indeed, I never did !' John did not perform
his part solus ; Dorothy prayed as fast as he;
and Mr Errant, as soon as he could for
laughing, desired John to rise, and he v»-ould
disenchant him ; which office he kindly and
faithfully performed : and, after a few con-
solatory sentences, which Mr Errant knew
perfectly well how to adapt, be prevailed on
his simple, but kind hosts, to prepare for
supper.
JOHN AUDLEY. 29
Had it not been for that powerful and
universal disturber, Fear, it would have
been difficult to have found, in a like num-
ber of persons, a more happy fire-side, or
one round whiv'h there was more true con-
tent, and native simplicity of heart. Even
this very fear had something of pleasure in it,
and something enviable. It was a delirium
of the soul, to be at supper with an enchan-
ter; to see a demon, in the form of a dog,
fixing his eyes upon them ; and to suppose
that, if the mighty conjuror pleased, he could
turn their cottage into a palace, or fly with
them through the air, escorted by an army
of spirits, to the remotest parts of the earth.
There is a large portion of the sublime, even
to philosophy, in such ideas, notwithstand.
ing their extravagance ; but, to the simple
and believing soul, they form an incompre-
hensible world of wonders, which, though
dreadful, it delights to contemplate.
The present occasion could not fail to re-
call to the imagination of John Audley his
own adventures with the ghosts, and the
stories he had heard others relate. ' A n't
please you,' said John to Mr Errant, ' did
you ever see the Skreeking Woman f' —
' No,' — ' No I now I have seen her three
times.' — ' And prav what kind of a lady is
she f' — ' Why, I'll tell your honour. As
I wur walking home one night from 'J'liomas
C
30 JOHN AUDLEY.
O'Wilkins, (I remember Dame Dickinson
had that very night been telling us a mort
of tales about ghosts;) and so, as I wur
turning the corner of Roger Fairley's barn,
I saw, what I then thougM to be a huge
black cat ; and so it run towards the barn-
door, and vanished. So, upon seeing it va-
nish, 1 begun to bethink me ; and, to tell you
truth, I wur almost afraid to go by the door
where the huge black cat vanished. So I
stood still a bit to consider ; and, as sure
as you are alive, I thought I smelt a smell
o' brimstone. So, to tell you the truth,
I began to be mortagiously frightened and
afraid ! and so, as I wnir standing there, I
heard the most woundy uproar, and squeak-
ing and squalling, and scampering, in the
barn, that ever I heard sin' the hour I wur
born. So I bethought me, that this barn were
certainly a meeting place for w^itches and
and wizzards ; and, what made it more like-
ly, it wur Saturday night, and the wind had
just then begun to blow as thof heaven and
earth would come together; so that, what
with the noise within and the noise without,
you never in all your life heard such a deadly
din : I'm sure I never did ; except, indeed,
the night that old Miser Gripegut died. Well ,
as I tell you, there I stood, quite in a stound,
and could neither stir foot backward nor for
ward ; and in a deadly taking, to be surcj I
JOHN AUDLEY. 31
\v~ur, as j'Oii may well think : for you must
know, it came into my mind, that they
miorht drafj me into the barn and make a
wizzard o^ me, whether I would or no ; nay,
and I do assure you, I saw an imp, in the
very exact form of a rat, that came out of
the barn, and ran towVd me, as lierce as thof
it wur resolute to seize upon me : but, as
Heaven would have it, 1 started, and cried,
" God bless me !'' and it vanished. Well ;
and so as I wur standing there, with my
eye fixed upon the barn-door, for I durst no'
venture to turn my head the least in the
world to the right or to the left, all at once
there wur a dead cold hand clapt to my
cheek, and something at the same time gave
me such a whang on the back, that down I
fell, and I really thought there wur an end
o"* me. But, however, for once it seems I
wur more frightened than hurt, as I found
afterwards, when Dick ^Yalter, or Dick
Dare-devil, as he is called in our parish,
gave me his hand., and helped me up. You
may be sure I wur not a little ])leased ; so
I told him the whole story of the Black Cat
and the clattering, and the devil's imp run-
ning at me to make a wizzard o' me, and
ail ; and so he pretended to laugh at me, and
not to believe me, and not to put no faith in
such things ; but that, as you may suppose,
was all pretence, for I am certain every body
C 2
32 JOHN AUDLEY.
knows there is such things ; because, why,
does not the bible tell us so ? But Dick had a
mind to seem fasheous, and fear nothing ;
though, to be sure, Dick is as bold as a lion,
and as strong as a horse, and there is not a
man in Lancashire dare to face him fairly ;
but then, to be sure, he is deadly wicked and
prophane ; and I have heard him challenge
old Nick, if he durst appear. And so I was
so pleased to find Dick, that I would take
him down to HaPs at the bottom of the hill,
and gi" him a mug of ale. So away we
went ; and when we came there, we found
Will Tipler, the drunken shoemaker, along
wi' Farmer Upton's tall Tom, who is six-
foot seven inches and a half without his
shoes : and so Dick would be a pint to my
pint ; and Will he wur another ; and Tom
wur another ; and so on, till we made it very
late ; and so you must know, my road home
from Hal's lay over the stile and gate, where
the Skreeking Woman commonly sits ; but
you must know by this time I had got a
drop in my head, and then, somehow or an-
other, when one's in company wi' Dick, one
never fears nothing ; and he is such a good-
natured fellow too, when nobody puts upon
him, for he won't suffer no man to fash and
affront any man that he is in company wi' ;
so, as I tell you, I had to go over the Skreek-
ing Woman's stile ; so as I did no' half like
JOHN AUDLEY. 2S
it, but wur got pot-valiant, and would no**
ask Dick to go vvi' me, for I knew heM game
and laugh at me. So away I set ; and so,
as I told you, a deadly windy night it wur ;
so, as sure as can be, when I had got a bit
from the house, I began to feel a forethought,
and to be partly sure that I should see her ;
and the farther I went, the more I wur
certain ; and so I began heartily to wish I
had got Dick or some one to come wi' me :
but that was all over ; so away I went wf
my heart in my mouth, as I may say, and
I wish I may be hanged if my hair did not
stand an end every now and then wi' think-
ing on't. Well ; so, as I tell you, I kept
going my gait a thisen till I came almost
wi' my nose upon the stile ; but I should
liave told you, it wur most mortagious dark,
for the moon wur gone down, and the night
wur as black as pitch. I believe in my heart
the heavens never sent out or saw a more
murky welkin ; the sky wur like a bag of
soot. So, as I tell you, 1 had got wi' my
very nose almost upon the stile, when all of
a sudden I saw her rise from behind the
hedge, as it were, and place herself upon
the stile. Lord ! how my knees knocked
together! At first I had not the power to
move hand or limb ; and I do think I stood
for some minutes, with no more life in me
than an oyster; and then, when I came a
C3
34 JOHN AUDLEY.
little to myself, my teeth chattered, and I
dithered as thof I had been in an ague : so
what to do I did na know : for if I turned
back she would walk before me. So I be-
thouj][ht me it wur best to put my trust in
my Maker, and to say the l^ord's prayer,
and so go a bit lower down along the hedge
where there wur a gate Well : will you
believe me ; as sure as I sit on this stool,
when I came to the gate, there wur she
again. " The Lord of heaven's goodness
deliver me," thought I, " what will become
o' me r And so, do you know, all the sins
that ever I had committed began to come
into my head I bethought me o' the five
apples I had stolen when I went to school
with old Dame Trott o' Prescot ; and of
the bastard I had, by half-witted Mall o'
the Hill, before I wur four and twenty ; and
o' the robin-red-breast I shot instead of a
crov; ; and the silver-groat that I found,
the first year I was made clerk o' this pa-
rish, which I wickedly spent at the fair in-
stead of giving notice on't at the church-
door, as I ought to have done ; and more-
over, of having the very Sunday before fal-
len asleep in sarmunt time, and what wur
worser, when his reverence, the vicar, wur
in the pulpit, and not the curate ; which his
reverence afterwards told n e, in the vestry,
wur breaking the commandments, and an
JOHN AUDLEY. 35
abomination to the Lord. So, as I tell you,
I began to pray to the gracious Providence
of marcy, for deliverance and forgiveness of
my sins ; for, to be sure, as I have told you,
a wicked sinner I had been ; so, while as I
wur here, in this most dismal and terrible
astoundification, some how or another, I
found she wur vanished and disappeared,
and wur gone ; so I then fell upon my knees,
and thanked the grace of heavenly goodness,
and the Lord of hosts, and the Ahnighty
Maker of heaven and earth, and the God of
Israel, for all his manifold marciful loving-
kindness to me a poor wicked and unworthy
sinner; and sol begun to put my trust in him;
and so, seeing as I did not see her any
longer, I ventured by little and little towVd
the gate ; and so at last I laid my hand
upon't, and then one foot, and then t'other;
and so at last I got o' the other side o"* the
hedge, and so I wur fain to walk by the
hedge side for fear o' losing myself, it wur
so mortagious dark, as I tell you ; and so,
as I wur walking along, I thought I heard
a whispering o' t'other side o' the hedge ;
and I am not a Christian soul in the land o'
the living, if it wur not as like the whisper-
ing of men's voices as niy right-hand is to
my left ; and so my hair began to bristle as
bad almost as before, and I stopt ; and so,
when I stopt, the whispering vanished ; but
36 JOHN AUDLEY.
I heard a mortagious running and a scam-
pering, and a clattering o' feet, o' t'other
side o' the hedge, which I could compare to
nothing but a parcel of devils running a race
towards the stile ; and, for all we know well
enough that spirit's bodies are not bodies,
I'm sure they made as great a clattering as
thof they had had legs and feet of flesh
and blood. Well ; so I wur now, as I thought,
o' the right side o' the hedge, so I kept my
gait till I came to the stile ; and seeing as
i saw nothing of her there, I began to have
some hopes that she wur gone for good and
all ; so I set forward again tow>d home,
and begun to bethink me that I had got
something to talk about as long as I lived ;
but will you believe me ? I had not gone
not half the field's length, till I saw her
again walking right before me ! '' The
Lord of heavenly blessedness defend me !''
tliought I ; '* what will become o' me !" I
stopt, and she stopt — I took heart and made
two or three-steps — and so did she. Never
since I wur a sinner, wur I in such a quan-
dary before ! AVhat could I do ? If a man is
so fearful as to turn back, I had always
l.een told, she is so mischievous she will
twine his neck round, mayhap, or blight
him i' the eyes, or somewhat like, as she
struck Goody Hazel a box o' the ear, and
she has been deaf o' that side ever sin.
JOHN AUDLEY. 37
So, as I said, what could I do ? Why, I
prayed to the Lord, and thought I would
keep on my gait as long as she was that
distance before me. I should have told you,
tho', she wur all in white, or else, as you
may think, I could no a' seen her ; there
wur not a sheet in all Lancashire whiter
than she ; and at first she did na seem so
high as my breast, and she walked as thof
she were partly lame, or crouching on the
hams ; and so I had na followed her far,
before she began to get higher and higher !
— and higher and higher ! — and higher and
higher ! — till at last. Lord Almighty bless
me ! she wur taller than any tree in Eccle-
ston parish, or the next to it, I am positive ?
Marcy's goodness be upon me, what a con-
dition I wur in ! Well ; and so, would you
believe it ? when she wur at the tallest, she
turned about, and gave such a stride tov.'rds
me ! and a skreek ! and, as I suppose, va-
nished ; for I dropped down as dead as this
trencher; and there, as Heaven's marcy
would have it, wur found by Dick Walters
and Tall Tom ; and so they, seeing me so
frightened, (for I did na stir out of my bed
for a week) wanted to persuade me that it
wur nowt but a trick o' theirs to scare me ;
but, however, I wur na such a fool as to
believe'm, as you may well think, after
what I had seen and heard.'
38 THE SAILOR.
John Audley ended ; and his looks, while
relating, were sufficient to convince the
hearer what his sensations must have heen,
while his wicked companions were playing
him the trick he had just recounted. Mr
Errant had been much among the simple
inhabitants of villages, and knew how im-
possible it is to cure those who have once
contracted the disease of credulity : he knew
too, there is in every district a Dick Dare-
devil, who diverts himself at tiie expense of
those whose faculties or bodies are not so
robust as own.
THE SAILOR.
From Chrysal ; or, the Adventures of a Guinea.
In one of the cells of the Inquisition, there
was confined an English seaman, who had
!)een seized, and secretly conveyed thither,
for some disrespectful expressions against
the divinity of St Dominick.
THE SAILOR. 39
The manly, modest resolution, with which
he had refused to own the authority of their
tribunal, and l.is lirmn^s under the first
torture, marked him out to the Inquisitor
as the person proper for his design of
escaping with the fair Ilissa ; for he would
not trust any one of his own countrymen,
not even his brother, whose treachery he
abhorred.
As soon as he opened the door of his cell,
the sailor, whose soreness prevented his
sleeping very sound, perceived him, and im-
agining it was a summons to a repetition of
the torture, he sprung up as far as his chains
would admit him, and cried, ' Hollo ! who
comes there ?' — The inquisitor advancing,
answered, ' A friend.' — 'Aye ! damn all such
friends, (replied the sailor,) I suppose you
are come to give me another toasting ; but
if my hands w^re out of the bilboes, I'd
send you off with a salt eel for your supper.'
' Atoderate your rage a moment, my
friend ; I come to set you free, if you de-
sire, and will deserve it." — ' Avaust hauling,
brother ! I do not understand you !' — 'Why,
do not you desire to be free ?' — ' Desire !
aye, that I do ! but I may whistle for that
wind long enough before it will blow."* —
' Perhaps not ; perhaps that wind, as you
say, is nearer blowing than you imagined :
what would you do to be free .^' — ' Do ! I'd
40 THE SAILOR.
burn the Inquisition, and cut the inquisitor's
throat ! I'd do any thnig but turn papist, or
fight against Old England.' — ' Honest Bri-
ton ! 13ut suppose I should set you free ;
would you serve me faithfully in one thing
that is neither against your country nor your
religion ?' ' Belay that, and I'll warrant you,
if I say it, Fll do it without more words.
I'm no landsman nor Portuguese."' — ' Well
then, I'll take your word, and so come with
me.' — The sailor was surprised, he scarce
knew whether he was asleep or awake ;
however, as soon as the Inquisitor had un-
locked his chains, he shrugged his shoulders,
and followed him without more questions.
When they were come into my master's
apartment, he made the sailor sit down, and
giving him some wine to cheer his spirits,
* You are now at liberty, my friend, (said
he) vvithout any farther condition, and may
go where you please ; but if you will serve
me in an affair I shall mention to you, you
shall have reason to think of this night with
pleasure as long as you live.' — ' Serve you,
master ! (replied the sailor) that I will I
name but what you would have me do ;
that is, as I said before ; you understand
me ; and I'll do it ; tho' it was to hand the
main-top-gallant-sail in a storm at midnight,
when the yard was broke in the slings, and
it was not my watch, do you see ; it would
THE SAILOR. 41
be but iny duty, and there is no merit in a
man's doing his duty ; I am no flincher, I
never say aye when I mean no : thoug^h I
say it, I am a gentleman ; my father was
iieutenant of a man of war, and I have been
at sea these five-and-thirty years, man and
boy, and never once brought to the gangway
in all that time. If the noble captain, that
rated me a midshipman twenty years ago,
had lived to be an admiral, I should have
been an officer before now.
The honest openness of heart, that appear-
ed in the sailor's giving his own character,
made my master hear him with pleasure,
and place an entire confidence in him. As
soon as he had finished, tlierefore, he open-
ed his scheme to him ; and the sailor under-
took to go to London, buy a good ship, and
freight her for Alexandria, and to call at
Lisbon in his way, and take my master and
his friends on board ; to do which, he gave
him money and jewels to a great amount ;
the latter he was to dispose of in London,
and account with the Inquisitor for the sur-
plus, after the purchase of the ship and car-
i^o, which vrereto be his own, in reward for
his trouble, as soon as he had made this
voyage.
All things being thus settled, the sailor
was just departing, when, on a sudden
thought, he turned short on the Inquisitor ;
D
42 THE SAILOR.
* Steady, (said he) steady ; so far we go
right before the wind, and all's well. But
whom do you mean to clap aboard me when
I come? If it is the Pretender, or the French
king, here take back your trinkams ; Fll be
damned before I'll help either of them to
make his escape.' — ' Never fear, my friend,
(replied the Inquisitor, scarce able to con-
tain his laughing at the strangeness of such
a thought,) I promise you it is neither of
these ; I promise you not to do any thing
a2;ainst your king or your religion. — ' But
shall we not have one dash at this damned
place ? (added the sailor) shall we not set it
on fire, and cut the Inquisitor's throat ? Til
bring a set of jolly boys, that would shoot
the gulph of hell, to have a stroke at the
Devil Dominick ; shall we not set the In-
quisition on fire, and cut the Inquisitor's
throat .''' — ' We will consider about those
things : but you had better lose no time ;
and let me once more caution you, not to
be seen in Lisbon at present ; and to be as
expeditious as possible in your return.' —
* Never fear, master; never fear,' replied
the sailor ; and, shaking him heartily by the
hand, away lie went.
I here quitted the service of the Inquisi-
tor, being amongst the money which he gave
to the sailor.
My new master no sooner found himself
at liberty, than he hasted away to the sea-
THfi SAILOR. 43
side, without ever stopping to look behind
him, and luckily finding the packet just
ready to sail, he was out of sight of Lisbon
before morning.
Never was a heart so intent upon exe-
cuting a commission faithfully as his ; he
thought of nothing else all the passage; and
the moment he arrived in London, he sold
the jewels, bought a ship, manned her vveli,
and, having laid in a proper cargo, set sail
for Lisbon, and was there before his em-
ployer imagined he was arrived in London.
I had been an idle spectator of these
transactions, for young Aminadab had made
such depradations on me, that no one in
London would accept of me at my original
value ; and my master's honour would not
think of parting with me for less, without
acquainting the person from whom he re-
ceived me. — The moment he arrived in Lis-
bon he gave notice to his friend, whose joy
at his fidelity and expedition is not to be
expressed. He immediately had the trea-
sures, which he designed to take with him,
conveyed secretly aboard ; and as soon as
the wind served, embarked himself with his
friends in the night, and obliged my master
to sail directly, though greatly to his dissa-
tisfaction, because he would not consent to
his firing the prison of the Inquisition, and
cutting the Liquisitor's throat.
44 THE SAILOR.
TTeaveti seemed to approve of tlie under-
taking, sendiiicr a fair v.ind, which soon car-
ried us out of the fear of our enemies.
It is impossible to conceive an happier
company than were now together ; nor did
the blunt festivity of my master add a little
to the pleasure of their voyage, v*'hich met
but one cloud that seemed at first to threat-
en a good deal, but soon blew over.
. When vve were about half our voyage,
my master entered the cabin hastily one
morning, and v.'ith a kind of fierce delight
flashing in his eyes, said to the Inquisitor,
whom he always called owner, * Well, own-
er, you shall now see what English boys can
do: there is a large Frenchman bearing
down upon us ; but if you do not see him
sheer off as short as if he had got foul of a
lee-shore; I will never take the helm again,
if he is not obliged to drop anchor to bring
him up along-side of us ; and as I expected
some such thing, I took out a letter of
marque, so that you need not fear being
hanged for a pirate, if the worst should
happen.
But delighted as my master was, his pas-
sengers did not seem so well pleased with the
news, especially his owner, who was not
used to fighting, and besides was too anxi-
ous for his escape v>ith his fair prize, to
think of any thing with pleasure, which
could possibly deprive him of her.
THE SAILOR. 45
Iriiey all, therefore, went directly upon
the deck, and seeing the ship really coming
towards th^m, the Inquisitor went into the
cabin that he might not be observed by the
men, and sendi:ig for my master, accosted
him thus ; ' Surely, my friend, you cannot
mean to wait for that ship, (for we are lying
to) she certamly means to attack you.** —
* And so let her, owner, (replied my master)
I'll warrant she gets as good as sh^ brings/
— ' But consider, my fWerrd, (replied the
Inquisitor) consider we are on board you.'
— ' Well^ owner, and what then? you are
not afraid : the la<ly may be stowed safe he-
low ! and you'll stand as good a chance as
another ; you are not afraid." — ' My good
friend, I have not time to explain my rea-
sons to you ; but if you hav-e any regard for
me, you will instantly crowd all the sail you
can, and get clear of this aHair ; I desire
it; I beg it.' — ' Why, look you, owner,
what needs all these words ; if so be you
order us, we must put about to be sure, for
the ship k yours ; but then the honour of
Old England, consider that; the honour of
Old England." — ' O my friend, I can con-
sider nothing, but my desire to avoid this
danger ; so once more I beg." — ' Enough
said, enough said." Then going upon deck,
* Well, my lads, our owner does not chuse
this brush, while the lady is on board ; so
D3
46 THE SAILOR,
we must about ship ; but as \ve come back.
Soup Maigre shall pay for it/ — And saying
this, he obeyed the desire of his owner as
faithfully as if it had been his own, only not
with the same appearance of pleasure, not
being able to avoid ejaculating, damn fear,
at every turn of the tune he whistled, as he
walked the deck the rest of the day.
He had so punctually observed his own-
er^s instructions in getting a good ship, that
we were soon cut of sight of the French-
man ; nor did we meet with any thing dis-
agreeable the remainder of the voyage.
The day after this affair, when they had
all recovered their good humour, my master
addressed his owner thus — * Now, owner,
while the sky is clear, and we have nothing
else to do, I had better give you an account
of your money. Here is the iog-];ook,
which you may overhaul at your leisure,
though the sooner the better. This is the
time ; there is no taking a good observation
in a storm, as may happen by and by ; you'll
find all as fair as a new- cable ; but I must
gi'v'e you ,one point to direct your reckoning
by, and that is this ; you bade me buy a
si mk and freigiit her, and so forth, and she
and the cargo should be m.y own, after I
had done your job this trip. Now, owner,
it is very true, that a less vessel than this
might have made the run ; but then yoU
THE SAILOR. 47
seemed so desirous to be safe, that I tliouglit
it best to take a bargain of this stout ship,
which I knew to be as good a sea-boat as
ever turned to windward, and able to go,
hank for hank, with any thing that swims
the sea, 'as we shewed when we run the
Frer)chman out of sight yesterday ; though
it went against my heart to do it ; but no
matter for that now ; the ship is yours, and
you have a right to be obeyed. However,
there is the accovmt, and here is the rest of
your money, of which I did not lay out one
sliilHng that I could avoid, but one guinea,
which I gave to my old messmate, AVill
Crosstree, whom I met on Tower-hill in
distress ; and one I gave Black Moll of
Wapping to heave dov»'n ; and I could not
Mell avoid those either, for Will was an old
messmate, and 1 owed Moll for many a
good turn in her way ; but all this signilics
nothing to you ; they can be stopped on
account ; and here is a damned guinea too,
that would not go ; I believe it has been in
the hospital till it was fluxed off its legs.
' And now, owner, as you may think this
ship costs too much, and that the cargo is
too good, I will not keep you to your bar-
gain; she is your own, and all that is in her,
only pay the men ; as for me, I am satisfied
with having got out of that damned Inqui-
sition, and leave the rest to yourself. If
48 TriE SAILOR.
you think that I have deserved any thing,
well and good ; if not, I do not fear bread,
while the sea flows round Old England:
all that grieves me is, that you would not
let us set fire to the Inquisition, and cut
the Inquisitor's throat." If my master's
bluntness in the affair of the French ship
gave offence to his owner, the honesty of
this speech restored him to his warmest es-
teem; and made Pheron, who was present,
cry out in rapture, * Thank heaven, there
is still some honesty among mankind."* —
' Honesty ! aye, (replied my master) a little
among the tars of Old England ! a little."*
The Inquisitor having by this time re-
covered from the astonishment, into which
such nobleness of soul threw him, returned
the account iinopened, with these words :
* I am convinced your account must be just;
and I freely make yoil a gift, not of this
ship and cargo, for they are justly your own
already, but of the rest of the money which
is in your hands."---' What all, owner ! all !"*
— ' All, my friend ; if it were as many times
so much, you justly merit it.**—' But then,
ouner, had not you better sign the account
if you please, for fear of after reckonings
with your executors ; for I hate the law
damnably, ever since I lost a year's pay for
hindering our boatswain"'s mate's brother to
beat his wife. The brimstone swore I beat
THE SAILOR. 49
her husband, and so I paid for meddling;
but it was the lawyer's fault that set her on.
Damn all lawyers, say I.' — ' Well, then, my
honest worthy friend, there is a receipt; and
I wish you success equal to your merit;
and you cannot have more.' — * Enough said,
owner; enough said; I thank you ; I thank
you.*
The remainder of our voyage w^as one
continued scene of hap])iness. My master
landed his passengers at Alexandria, from
whence they soon set out for Pheron's coun-
try ; and at his taking leave of them, advis-
ecl them to be careful Iiow they ventured in
any of the ships of those countries, which
he assured them were not better than bum-
boats, nor did tlieir mariners know any
more of the sea than a Thames waterman.'
Having finisl/ed this, his first business,
he proceeded to dispose of his cargo, for
which he met so good a market, and made
so profitable a return from thence home,
that as soon as he arrived, his landlady's
daughter at Gosport, whom he had been in
love with for mar;y years, but never dared
to speak so till now, readily consented to
marry him. One thing though I must not
omit, and that was, that he kept a constant
look out all the voyage home, for tlio
Frenchman whom he had t]ed I'rom so sore
against his will ; and was greatly concern-
50 THE DEAN Ot? BADAJOZ.
ed that he could not meet him, to have a
brush for the honour of Old England.
I did not remain with him to be a witness
of his happiness; he gave me to a Jew ped-
Jar for a pair of fine sleeve buttons, to pre-
sent to his mistress the morning before his
marriage.
THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ.
BY THE ABBE BLANCHET.
The Dean of the Cathedral of Badajo;8
was more learned than all the Doctors of
Salamanca, Coimbra, and Alerla, united.
He understood all languages, living and
dead, and was perfect master of every
science, divine and human; except that,
unfortunately, he had no knowledge of ma-
gic, and was inconsolable when he reflected
on his ignorance in that sublime art. He
was told, that a very able magician resided
THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ. 51
in the suburbs of Toledo, named Don Tor-
ribio. Immediately he saddled his mule,
departed for Toledo, and alighted at the
door of no very superb dwelling, the habita-
tion of that great man.
Most reverend magician, said he, address-
ing himself to the sage, I am the Dean of
Badajoz. The learned men of Spain all al-
low me their superior, but I am come to
request from you a far greater honour ;
that of becoming your pupil. Deign to ini-
tiate me in the mysteries of your art, and
doubt not but you shall receive a grateful
acknowledgment, suitable to the benefit
conferred, and your own extraordinary
merit
Don Torribio was not very polite, though
he valued himself on being intimately con-
nected with the best company in hell. He
told the Dean he was welcome to seek else-
where for a master in magic ; for that, for
his part, he was weary of an occupation
which produced nothing but compliments
and promises, and that he would not dis-
honour tlifi occult sciences, by prostituting
them to the ungrateful.
To the ungrateful ! cried the dean ; has
then the great Don Torribio met with per-
sons who have proved ungrateful . and can
he so far mistake me as to rank me with
such monsters ? He then repeated all the
52 THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ.
maxims and apophthegms which he had
read on the subject of gratitude, and every
refined sentiment his memory could furnish.
In short, he talked so well, that the con-
jurer, after having considered a moment,
confessed he could refuse nothing to a man
of such abilities, and so ready at pertinent
quotations. Jacintha, said he. calling to his
old woman, lay do^/n two partridges to the
fire ; I hope my friend, the dean, will do me
the honour to sup with me to-night. At the
same time he takes him bv the hand, and
leads him into his cabinet; there, he touches
his forehead, mattering three mysterious
words, whicli I must request the reader not
to for^jet, Ortobolan, Fidafricr, Onagriouf;
then, without further preparation, he began
to explain, with ail possible perspicuity, the
introductory^ elements of his profound science.
His new disciple listened with an atten-
tion which scarcely permitted him to
hreathe; when, on a sudden, Jacintha en-
ters, followed by a little man, in monstrous
boots, and covered with mud up to the neck,
who desired to speak with the dean on very
important business.
This was the postilion of his uncle, the
Bishop of Badajoz, v/ho had been sent ex-
press after him, and had galloped quite to
Toledo, before he could overtake him : he
came to bring him information that, some
THE DEAN OP BADAJOZ. 53
hours after his departure, his grace had
been attacked bv so violent an apoplexy
that the most terrible consequences were to
be apprehended. The dean heartily cursed
(inwardly that is, and so as to occasion no
scandal) at once the disorder, the patient,
and the courier, who had certainly all three;
chosen the most impertinent time possible.
He dismissed the postillion, telling him to
make haste back to Badajoz, whether he
would presently follow him : after which he
returned to his lesson, as if they were no
such things as uncles or apoplexies.
A few days after, he again received news
from Badajoz, but such as were well worth
hearing. The principal chanter and two
old canons came to inform the dean, that his
uncle, the right reverend bishop, had been
taken to heaven to receive the reward of his
piety; and that the chapter, canonically
assembled, had chosen him to fill the vacant
bishopric, and humbly requested he would
console, by his presence, the afflicted church
of Badajoz, now become his spiritual bride.
Don Torribio, who was present at this
harangue of the deputies, endeavoured to
derive advantage from what he had learned,
and taking aside the new bishop, after hav-
ing paid him a well turned compliment on
his promotion, proceeded to inform him,
that he had a son, named Benjamin, pos-
54 THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ.
sessed of much ingenuity and good inclina-
tion ; but in whom he had never perceived
either taste or talent for the occult sciences;
he had, therefore, he said, advised him to
turn his thoughts towards the church, and
had now, he thanked heaven, the satisfaction
to hear him commended, as one of the most
deserving divines among all the clergy of
Toledo; he, therefore, took the liberty,
most humbly, to request his grace to bestow,
on Don Benjamin, the deanery of Badajoz,
which he could not retain together with hiis
bishopric.
I am very unfortunate, replied the prelate,
apparently very much embarassed ; you
will, I hope, do me the justice to believe,
that nothing could give me so great a plea-
sure, as to oblige you in every request. But,
the truth is, 1 have a cousin, to whom I am
heir, an old ecclesiastic, v/ho is good for
nothing but to be a dean; and, if 1 do not
bestow on him this preferment, I must em-
broil myself with ray family, which would
be far from agreeable. But, continued he,
in an alieclioiiate manner, will you not ac-
company me to Badajoz ? Can you be so
cruel as to forsake me just at the moment
w^hen it is in my power to be of service to
you? Be persuaded, my honoured master;
we will go together : think of nothing but
the improvement of your pupil, and leave
THE DEAN OF BADAJ02;. 55
me to provide for Don Benjamin ; nor doubt
but, sooner or latter, I will do more for
bim than you exjject. A paltry deanery,
in the remotest part of Estremadura, is not
a benefice suitable to the son of such a man
as yourself.
The canon law would, no doubt, have
construed this offer of the prelate's into
simony. The proposal, however, was ac-
cepted : nor was any scruple made by either
of these tv»'0 very intelligent persons. Don
Torribio followed his illustrious pupil to
Badajoz, where he had an elegant apart-
ment assigned him in the episcopal palace,
and was treated with the utmost respect by
all the diocese, as the favourite of his grace,
and a kind of Grand Vicar.
Under the tution of so able a master, the
Bishop of Badajoz made a rapid progress
in the occult sciences. At first, he gave
himself up to them with an ardour which
might appear excessive ; but this intemper-
ance grew by degrees more moderate ; and
he pursued them with so much prudence,
that his magical studies never interfered
with the duties of his diocese. He was w^ell
-convinced of the truth of a maxim, very im-
portant to be remembered by ecclesiastics,
whether addicted to sorcery, or only philoso-
phers and admirers of literature, that it is
not sufilcient to assist at learned nocturnal
E2
56 THE DEAN 0# BADAJOZ.
meetings, or adorn the mind with the cm-i
belishments of human science, but that it is
also the duty of divines, to point out to
others the way to heaven, and plant, in the
minds of their hearers, wholesome doctrine
and Christian morality.
Regulating his conduct by these com-
mendable principles, the learned prelate was
celebrated throughout Christendom, for his
merit and piety; and promoted, when he
least expected such an honour, to the Arch-
bishopric of Compostella.
The people and clergy of Badajoz lament-
ed, as may be supposed, an event by which
they were deprived of so worthy a pastor ;
and the canons of the cathedral, to testify
their respect, unanimously conferred on him
the right of nominating his successor.
Don Torribio did not neglect so alluring
an opportunity to provide for his son. He
requested the bishopric of the new archbish-
op, and was refused with all imaginable po-
liteness. He had, he said, the greatest
veneration for his old master, and was both
sorry and ashamed, it was not in his power
to grant a thing which appeared so mere a
trifle ; but, in fact, Don Ferdinand de Lara,
constable of Castile, had asked this same
bishopric for his natural son ; and, though
lie had never seen that nobleman, he hadj
Ke said, some secret, important, and, what
THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ, 57
was more, very ancient obligations to him.
It was therefore, an indispensible duty to
prefer an old benefactor to a new one ; but
that he ought not to be discouraged at this
proof of his justice, as he might learn, by
that, what he had to expect when his turn
arrived; which it certainly would be the
very first opportunity.
This anecdote, concerning the ancient
obligations of the archbishop, the magician
had the goodness to believe; and rejoiced,
as much as he was r.ble, that his interests
were sacrificed to those of Don Ferdinand.
Nothing therefore was thought of, but
preparations for their departure to Com-
postella, w^here they" were now to reside.
Though these were scarcely worth the
trouble, considering the short time they
were destined to remain there; for, at the
end of a few montlis, one of the pope's cham-
berlains arrived, wiio brought the archbish-
op a cardinal's cap, with an epistle, concei-
ved in the most respectiul terms, in which
his holiness invited him to assist, by his
counsel, in the government of the Christian
world ; permitting liim, at the same time,
to dispose cf his mitre in favour of whom
he pleased.
Don Torribio was net at Com])cstel!a
when the courier of the h.oly father arrived.
He had been to see his son, v.ho still con'*
E3
58 THE DEAN OF BADAJOZi
tinued a priest, in a small parish, at Tolei
do ; but he presently returned, and was not
put to the trouble of asking for the vacant
archbishoj)ric. The prelate ran out to meet
him with open arms.
My dear master, said he, I have two
pieces of good news to relate at once. Your
disciple is created a cardinal, and your son
shall — shortly be advanced to the same dig-
nity. I had intended, in the mean time,
to have bestowed on him the archbishopric
of Compostella ; but, unfortunately for him,
or rather for me, my mother, whom we
left at Badajoz, has, during your absence,
written to me a cruel letter, by which all my
measures have been disconcerted. She will
ROt be paci'fied, imless I appoint for my succes-
sor the archdeacon of my former church,
Don Pablos de Salaza, her intimate friend
and confessor; she tells me, it will occasion
her death, if she should not be able to ob-
tain preferment for her dear father in God ;
and I have no doubt but what she says is
true. Imagine yourself in my place, my deai*
master — shall I be the death of my mother.?
Don Torribio was not a person who
would incite, or urge his friend to be guilty
of parricide ; nor did he indulge himself in
tlie least resentment against the mother of
the prelate.
To say the truth, however, this mother
THfi DEAN OF BADAJOZ. 59
he talked off was a good kind of a woman,
nearly superannuated, who lived quietly
with her cat and maid-servant, and scarcely
knew the name of her confessor. Was it
likely, then, that she had procured Don Pah-
los his archbishopric ? Was it not far more
probable, that he was indebted for it to a
Gallician lady, his cousin, a young widow,
at once devout and handsome, in whose
company his grace, the archbishop, had fre-
quently been edified, during his residence
at Compostella ? Be it as it may, Don Tor-
i'ibio followed his eminence to liorne.
Scarcely had he arrived in that city before
the Pope died. It is easy td imagine the
consequence of this event. The conclave
met. All the voices of the sacred college
were unanimous in favour of the Spanish
cardinal. Behold him, therefore, Pope I
Immediately after the ceremonies of his
exaltation, Don Torribio, admitted to a se-
cret audience, wept with joy, while he kissed
the feet of his dear pupil, whom he saw fill
with so much dignity the pontifical throne.
He modestly represented his long and faithful
services: He reminded his holiness of his
promises; those inviolable })romises whichhe
had renewed, before he entered the conclave ;
hinted at the hut which he had quitted, on re-
ceiving the tiara; but, instead of demanding
that hat for Don Benjamin, he finished, witu
(30 THE DEAN OF BADAJGZ.
most exemplary moderation, by renouncing
every ambitious bope. He and his son, he
said, would both esteem themselves too hap-
py, if his holiness wouldbestow on them, toge-
ther with his benediction, the smallest tem-
poral benefit. Such as an annuity for life,
sufficient for the hw wants of an ecclesiastic
and a philosopher.
During this harangue, the sovereign pon-
tiff considered within himself how to dispose
of his preceptor. He reflected that he vvas
no longer very necessary ; that he already
knew more of magic than was sufficient for
a pope ; that it must be highly improper for
for him to appear at the nocturnal assem-
blies of sorcerers, and assist at their indecent
ceremonies. After weighing every circum-
stance, his holiness concluded, that Don Tor-
ribio was, only a useless and a troublesome
dependant ; and, this point decided, he was
no longer in doubt what answer to return.
Accordingly he replied in the following
words : '• We have learned, with concern,
that, under the pretext of cultivating th-j
cccult sciences, you maintain a horrible in-
tercourse with the s])irit of darkness and
deceit, therefore we exhort you, as a father,
to expiate your crime, by a repentance pro-
portionable to its enormity. IMoreovcr, we
tnjoin ycu to depart from the territories of
the church, w.ithih three di<ys, under pain of
THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ. 61
being delivered over to the secular arm, and
its merciless flames/'
Don IVt-jribioj without being disconcert-
ed, immediately repeated aloud the three
mysterious words, which the reader was de-
sired to remember ; and^ g^^^S ^^ ^^^^ win-
dow, cried out, with all his force, Jacintha,
you need spit but one partridge, for my
friend the dean, will not sup here to-night.
This was a thunderbolt to the imaginary
pope: he immediately recovered from a
kind of trance, into which he had been
throw^n by the three magic words when
they were first pronounced, and perceived
thatj inJ?tead of being in the Vatican^ he was
still at Toledo, in the closet of Don Torri-
bio, and saw, by the clock, it was not yet a
complete hour sinde he first entered the fa-
tal cabinet, where he had been entertained
with such pleasant dreams. In that short
time, he had imagined himself a magician^
a bishop, an archbishop, a cardinal, a pope,
and, at last, found he was only a dupe, and
a knave. All was illusion, except the proofs
he had given of his deceitfulness, and evil
heart. He instantly departed, without
speaking a word, and, finding his mule
where he had left her, returned to Badajoz^
without having made the smallest progress
in the sublime science in which he had pro*
posed to become an adept.
THE SLIPPERS.
liAKARAK, though a rniser, was one of the
richest merchants in Bagdad. Camels, la-
den with the most valuable productions of
the east, constantly arrived at his warehouses,
and the ocean wafted vessels to the harbour,
but to increase his wealth ; yet he- had a
treasure in his possession still more desire-
able than his ivory or his pearls ; it was the
enchanting Zelica, his only child, who,
scarcely fifteen, and blooming like a Houri
of Paradise, far outshone them all ; but
though so sweet a blossom, no one had yet
proved sufficiently interesting to wind him-
self around her heart.
Going one morning to mcsque, attended
by her black slave only, an aged female,
bending beneath the weight of years, mur-
mured an entreaty for alms; while search-
ing for a purse that was suspended at her
girdle, she unintentionally let her veil drop
aside, and as, with a benevolent smile beam-
ing on her countenance, she was giving the
^HE SLIPPERS. 63
supplicant a zechin, her eye caught a youth
ardently gazing at her from a balcony above.
An instant warned her of her negligence :
hastily replacing her veil, and a deep blush
suffusing her cheek, she proceeded, taking
the heart of the handsome Karabeg with
her, though not leaving him to bewail the
loss, for, seizing his cloak, (so much had the
momentary sight of her beauties, to which
the action she was engaged in had imparted
an additional lustre, inflamed him) he swift-
ly followed, keeping, however, at a distance,
on account of the attendant. He saw her
enter the mosque, and pressed forward ;
but the number of persons Avere too great
to permit him to procure a place near her ;
however, he fixed Iiis eyes on her, and fol-
lowed her every movement, hoping his
trouble would be rewarded by a kind look ;
but being deeply engaged in her devotion,
she did not appear to regard him. Before
the conclusion of prayers, he arose, and sta-
tioning himself at the grand entrance, wait-
ed for her ; many people passed, and he be-
gan to be impatient — * Why,"* he muttered
to himself, ' should I be so foolish ? I know
her not ; nay, perhaps I shall never see her
again." — The idea made him involuntarily
»igh — he was angry at it — ' Fsha ! I'll not
suffer myself to be a captive by the glance
of every bright eye — I'll be gone.^ — He felt
€4 THE SLIPPERS.
inclined to put his threat into execution-^
advanced a few steps — faltered — turned a-
round — and all his resolutions fled, for Ze-
lica again appeared ; — with a salute of the
head, he made way to let her pass, but in
passing her hand touched his ; the touch
shot like fire through his veins — he trem-
bled — she sighed. — * O that sigh /' thought
he, and she seemed to hesitate ; but, at? that
moment, the envious black was behind, and
they proceeded. Karabeg again followed —
jn turning the street, a troop of janizaries
were galloping towards the seraglio ; a
a courser curvetted, plunged, and had near-
ly thrown his rider. Karabeg darted for-
ward, for Zelica uttered a faint shriek, and
v.as running back — ' Be not alarmed, lady,'
he exclaimed, ' I will protect you with my
life.' He coloured for having expressed
himself with such an emphasis—Zelica trem-
Jjled too much either to answer or thank
him — the black frowned — * My good fellow,'
continued Karabeg, perceiving it, * I surely
know your face, Mesroud !' — ' Ah, master,"*
£ried ^lesroud, ' 'tis you theJi — I thought
so, and am quite happy I'—* You know,
Mesroud, Sir?' faintly articulated Zelica. —
' He once belonged to my father, did you
not.?' — ' Yes, Sir, yes; he beat me — but
you — oh how good, how kind i/ou was !' —
The little tumult the horse had occasioned
THE SLIPPERS. 65
was now over, and the troops passed on ;
but as the black had a friend, there was no
opposition to Karabeg's accompanying Zeli-
ca further, they soon became intimate: and
when they parted, each felt the pleasure of
the other's company too much not to regret
it. Already Zelica knew Karabeg's history ;
liis father was the Cadi, and he — her lover.
They had arrived at a portico ; Karabeg
was entering, — * Hold, master,' cried Mes-
roud : ' Lady, you forget i/our father P It
was enough — again Zelica sighed, and re-
moving her veil, ivientionallj/ now, her eyes
beamed hope on Karabeg's passion, while
her lips thanked him for his gallantry ! —
'J'hey had both vanished, yet he remained
some time on the spot, expecting, though
Zelica might not re-appear, to see Mesroud,
but in vain.
The house in which Bakarak resided,
was situated on the banks of the river.
This Karabeg soon discovered: he rowed
beneath the windows, and breathing in his
flute, played e^ Turkish serenade. For
once, however, his art was thrown away,
all was silent; the air had once pleased him,
but as it had failed to produce the intended
effect, he now thought it dull, and throwing
aside the instrument, lie took part of the
muslin which composed his turban, and roll-
ing it into a body, cast it against a casement
F
66 THE SLIPPERS.
on the second story, trusting to chance for
arousing the right person He blest his
hicky stars, for the fair Zelica soon appear-
ed ; but, alas ! his pleasure lasted not long,
as she motioned him to be gone. ' Oh,
sweet Zelica, I cannot live in your absence.'
— ' You can't, hey." cried a voice, ' then you
must die in her presence, for if you stay dis-
turbing people with your nonsense, you will
certainly be killed.' 'Twas Bakarak at a
lower casement who said this, and Karabeg
now comprehended why his mistress warn-
ed him away. ' Oh, Sir,' said he, ' if you
knew me better.' ' By Mohammed ! but
it strikes me I know you pretty well already.
Are not you the son of old Mutapha the
Cadi, who had me punished for throwing a
slipper at him .^' (Now the truth was, Ba-
karak had one nigiit been breaking the laws
of the prophet, by ii. Julging in a little wine,
which caused such a revolution in his head,
not the strongest at any time, that seeing
Mustapha pass, in his way home, he must
needs quarrel with him, and giving him a
gentle salutation on the cheek with his slip-
per, wounded him so deeply, that he was
under the necessity of giving Musta[)ha a
sum of money to compromise the aftaii% as,
had a trial ensued, and Cakarak's frailty
been made public,- no power could have pro-
tected him from the consequences of such a
THE SLIPPERS. 67
heinous crime.) •' You may tell him,"' con-
tinued Bakarak, ' lie cheated me out of my
money, tor his head is too tiiick for my slij)-
per to have had the elfect he represented,
and at tlie same time take this console your-
self, — When your father complained against
me, he no doubt lioped my s'i-ppcr would
prove my ruin; now, wlien his hopes are
rcalhj fuelled, you shall have my daughter,
and not before, by ail the hairs that grace
our prophet's beard ! — So, set off directly,
or dread a slipper at i;o7ir head too." —
* Were you not the parent of so sweet a
maid,' answered Karabeg, ' you should re-
pent your threats." — ' By Alia ! that reminds
me; I had forgotten she is still in the bal-
cony. Girl, go to your chamber instantly :
a pretty thing for you to encourage this
impudent fellow. Have you no shame on
your father's account ? — To make assigna-
tions by moonlight: do you not dread its
beams ? — To talk openly with a man too !
are you not afraid of .the prophet's ven-
geance !' ' indeed, father,' said Zeh'ca, be-
seechingly, ' the young man is so iimd, so
respectful ; it was but this morning he pre-
served my life; nor on my honour have I
spoke to him since.' ' Eut I dare say, if
you've not spoken, you have made signs.
Oh ! you jade, I warrant you've not been
wicked for want of means ! Women have a
F2
68 THE SLIPPERS;
thousand tricks at their finger^s ends. 1
dare say you could contrive, on an emer-
<Tency, to give this dog a signal of your love,
by your veil, or your handkerchief. "^ Bakar-
ak little knew how apt a pupil he had ; still
less did he suspect his precepts would have
been so readily put in execution. The hint
was certainly not a bad one, and true love
soon caught at it. Taking the muslin Kar-
abeg had thrown, which had caiight in the
iron work that inclosed the window, she put
it to her lips, and folding it over her bosom,
formed it in a knot over her left breast.
Hearing her father, v» ho, being below, had
not perceived the action (though Karabeg^s
eyes were not so unwatchful) again repeat-
ed his command for her to retire; she left
the balcony, motioning her lover away ;
who, kissing his hand, bowed in token of
assent. Happily assured that Zelica did not
hate him, he thought little of her father's
enmity ; but feeling perfectly pleased with
the events of the evening, he seated himself
in his bark, and soon lost sight of the man-
sion of Bakarak, though the whole scene
again passed before him in his dreams, and
in imagination he a second time beheld his
Zelica assure him of her affection.
When a night's repose had cooled Kara-
beg's ideas, he began to consider, that Zeli-
ea's love could not conduct him to tine
THE SLIPPERS. 69
temple of happiness, while those cursed slip-
pers crossed the ])ath. At sun-rise he paid
his duty to liis lather, who, far from appear-
ing enraged, when Jie frankly avo\yed his
attaclnnent, promised, that if his son should
surmount Bakarak's dislike, he would not
prove an obstacle to his felicity.
As Karabeg was returning home the pro^
ceeding evening, a man had dropped lifeless
in the streets, and not being known, was
carried to the Cadi's house. A thought
struck Karabeg, and going where the de-
ceased lay, he took his slippers and placed
them in his girdle.
The beam;5 of the morninc: sun had scarce
gilded the spires and minarets of the city^
when Karabeg again sought the place that
contained all his hopes and wislies. Though
he waited long in the street, as it was early
he did not fear being discovered. At length
the door of J^akarak's house opened; he
skipped behind the pillar of a large portico
opposite, and anxiously fixed his eyes on it.
Bakarak came out, and took the way to the
public baths; Karabeg softly followed, and
when Bakarak entered, he also went in,
though concealing himself from observation.
The old man, as was the custom, left his
slippers at the entrance ; these Karabeg
quickly seized, and replacing them with
ihose he had brought, soon regained his
ather's house. F 3
7X) THE SLIPPERSi
When Bakarak left the bath, he in vairi
sought for his slippers ; but seeing a pair so
much handsomer in their place, (for, owing
to his miserly disposition, the weight of his
owm had been increased by some few patches)
went home contented with the exchange.
In the course of the morning he was not a
little surprised, when a troop of guards sur-
rounded his doors, and demanded to conduct
him instantly to the Hall of Justice. In
vain he inquired their orders, expostulated,
prayed, demanded ; they forced him along,
and he soon found himself in the presence
of old Mustapha, the Cadi, ?.nd the judges
of the city. Doubting whether he was w ell
awake, he stared in astonishment ; but his
fear was increased, when accused of having
murdered a man in the public streets ; liis
teeth chattered, and he could not answer.
At last, however, be gained breath to deny
the charge, though in no very coherent
manner. As a proof of guilt, his slippers-,
which had been found on the dead man's
person, were produced. Bakarak cursed in
his soul both the slippers, and those who
held them; many declared having seen
them in the court before, and the Cadi still
remembered the weight of one of them on
his cheek.
Those Bakarak had on were next exam-
ined : he w as asked how h€ came bv them P
THE SLIPPERS. 71
B€ explained his adventure at the baths that
morning, and was hiughed at. lie was half
mad with rage. The deceased had since
been owned, and his brother came forward
and declared, that the slippers Bakarak then
wore were the murdered man's. He now
really trembled for his life. ' How," said
the Cadi, * could a man who was found
dead in the streets last night, go to the
public baths this morning, and change a
pair of slippers ?" The case was clear ; Ba-
karak had equivocated, and was guilty ; all
appeared lost, when a young man stepped
forward and begged to be heard. Bakarak
could not beheve his eyes — it was Karabeg !
He swore that at the time the man was
found niurder-ed, Bakarak had been in his
own house. The old man breathed again.
Assistance from whence he so little expect-
ed it almost ovei-came him. Karabeg there-
fore dedared Bakarak was not the murdertr.
Bakarak seized his hand : he said more,
that the murdered man was not murdered.
Bakarak took him eagerly in his arms and
hugged him. An examination ensued^ no
wounds appeared; and it was discovered by
the surgeons, thnt the man had dTopj)ed
down in a fit. Bakarak was acquitted on
paying all the charges, and of course was
happy to get off so well ; for, on the first ap-
|)earance of the aliair, acoincedence of event
72 THE SLIPPERS*
seemed to forbode his destruction. The un-
fortunate slippers were delivered to him, and
he returned home. All the way he went,
he thought of what had passed ; had it not
been for Karabeg he probably would have
lost his life ; he felt almost inclined to be-
stow his daughter on the young man. But,
when seated in his library, the affair assum-
ed a different appearance; . he examined
every circumstance coolly, and began to sus-
pect the truth. This irritated him more
than ever against Karabeg, and cursing him
and the sli])pers, he vented his ra^e in exe-
crations. ' I see it all," he exclaimed ; ' I
foolishly said, that when these confounded
slippers proved my ruin, he should have
Zeiica, and it is thus the wicked dog wants
to cheat me out of her; but by Mahommed
he shall be baffled." The library overhung
the river ; the casement was thrown up to
admit the breeze; the slippers lay before
him : Bakarak felt determined ; he seized
them m a frenzy, and cast them into the
waters. '• Thank heaven,'' ejaculated ho,
" I am now safe." The action had rather
cooled him, and by night he was calm
enough to give pretty loud symptoms tliat
the events of the day had not disturbed his
repose.
VV'hen Bakarak arose in the morning, he
went as usual into his librarv; but who can
THE SLIPPERS. fS
toticeive his astonishment, when he behekl
the slippers lay before liim ? " Surely," he
tried, gasping for breath, " some evil spirit
must possess them, am T awake ? I am
certain yesterday's sun beamed on them in
the river ; it is incredible ! but what is this
smell?' He turned round, for the slippers
had done more misfchief than he at first
imagined. The truth was, some fishermen
came early that morning under Bakarak's
windows, to draw their nets, and finding
them heavy, conceived they had a good
draught; but, in searching, all they dis-
covered were the slippers; in a rage they
jerked them away, and Bakarak's casement
unfortunately happened to be the only one
open, in they went, and striking ajar of od-
our of roses, for which the merchant had
paid a large sum the day before, the force
of the slippers broke it, and half the liquid
had scented the floor. Bakarak, when he
beheld the accident, fell on his kness : ' Oh
Mahoramed, deliver me of these slippers, or
I shall indeed be ruined/ He called his
slaves, to save what they could of the per-
fume, and rushing out, felt determined to
get rid of his nir.^e. He came to the sewer,
which carried off the filth of the town ;' no
fisherman shall drag ye out again now,' said
he, as he threw the slippers in.
Karabeg, who had been watching that
74 THE SLIPPERS.
morning, saw Bakarakgo out, and waiting till
he was out of sight, boldly knocked at the
door. Mesroud opened it: 'Ah, master/ cried
f he, my lady vrill be glad to see you again.'
' Will your lady be glad, Mesroud? you
enchant me; conduct me to Jier instantly.'
' But then, if oid Bakarak should return.'
' Never mind old Bakarak ;' and Karabeg
had nearly pushed him down, so anxious
was he to make use of the opportunity.
They were soon together, and the minutes
flew away too fast. Zelica informed him of
her father's rage being increased, and his
suspicions, which he could not help uttering
in her presence. Karabeg cursed his pe-
netration. Mesroud, who had retired to
watch for his master, in a short time warn-
ed him of his approach ; but how Karabeg
could escape without being perceived was a
doubt. AVhile they were debating, Bakar-
ak arrived in the street, and no longer could
they hesitate. The lover soon decorated
himself in one of Mesroud's vests, and dis-
guising his face as much as the time would
permit, he passed off as dumb. Bakarak
asked many questions, the pretended bro-
ther undertook to answer, and eyed Kara-
beg so closely that he almost thought the old
man suspected.
Though all went on pretty well, Zelica
and Mesroud felt confused, while Karabeg
THE SLIPPERS. 75
often wished himself out of the holisc. Ba-
fcarak had not broken liis fast that morning,
and the agitations of his spirits had ahnost
thrown him into a fever ; he unfortunately-
felt his appetite craving its usual alloAvance.
*' Mesroud,"" said he, " I wish you would
go and order some fruit and ices to eat w^ith
my breakfast ; they will be cooling." " I'll
go, brother," quickly answered Karabeg,
thinking 'twould be an opportunity to
escape. " What,'' cried Bakarak, " the
dumb opens his mouth at the mention of
eating ! this is a miracle I do not under-
stand." The trio were now in a pretty situ-
ation, through tlie imprudence of the lover;
however, as he found that a discovery must
ensue, he put the best face he cculd on the
alTair, and rubbed off the cork. But no-
thing could pacify Bakarak, who threaten-
ed, if he did not directly leave the house,
the bastinado should force him. As for
poor Mesroud, he would have been happy
to escape on the same terms, but w^as actu-
ally regalled with the punishment promised ;
he consoled himself, however, .with the
hopes of revenge at some future period.
Two days had passed, and Karabeg had
not dared to make another attempt at see-
ing his mistrtss, W'hen the whole city were
alarmed by a stoppage of the water that
supplied their houses; in vain tlie reason
76 THE SLIPPERS,
was inquired into, no one could solve the
wonder, and at last it was deemed most ad-
visable to examine the grand reservoir.
After some labour and much expense, they
broke open the works, and the cause of the
stoppage was found to be — Bakarak's slip-
pers. When he heard of it, his rage almost
threw him into convulsions- ' Some genie,
or some devil, possesses them to work my
woe,' exclaimed he. He soon received a
summons to appear, and it was demanded
how he dared attempt such a treason to the
state as closing the pipes. Bursting with
vexation, he repeated what he had done to
77ia/ce awaj/ with the slippers, (though they
had proved so diabolical, he aknost feared
that might cause a charge of murder to be
brought against him) the breaking the per-
fume jar, and the putting them in the sewer,
from whence they had been carried into the
public reservoir. The judges felt inclined
to laugh at his misfortunes ; however, as the
damage was unintentional, he was allowed
to go, on repaying the treasury what it had
cost theiTi in pulling down and rebuilding.
He scarcely found his way home, so stung
was he by resentment, and so mortified by
the loss of his money. He muttered, as he
went along, * Karabeg sliall not have my
tlaughter, though heaven seems to predict
it,' His mishaps had made him more ob-
THE SLIPPERS. 77
stinate than ever, and when he arrived, Ze-
lica was so much frightened at his appear-
ance, that she retired in dismay to her cham-
ber. He ordered a large fire to be prepared
instantly, and throwing the slippers in, ' At
last,' said he, ' I'm determined to see ye no
more; when I cast you in the river, ye
were fished out again ; when I put you in
the sewer, ye made the whole town suffer ;
but ril defy any one to relieve ye now !'
The slippers seemed as obstinate as Bakar-
^k in giving him the lie, for the leather had
imbibed the pioisture to such a degree, that
they would not burn. Bakarak found his
anger useless, and that he must give up the
idea of consuming them, till dry: a lead
extended over the portico of the house, and
placing them there he ejaculated, ' I see I
must be plagued with ye some time longer,
but I shall bless the hour the sun has suffi-
ciently hardened ye, that I may commit ye
to the llames again: and, by Alia ! when
ye are destroyed, I will give a public re-
joicing!'
The vexations Fakarak had endured, had
prevented his visiting the mosque: — he now
determined to go, and throwing on his
cloak, went out; but as fortune, or rather
fate, would have it, as he passed the
threshold, the slippers, by some means, fell
from the leads, and came tumbling on his
G
78 THE SLIPPERS.
head. Though the blow had confused his
ideas a little, he managed to look up, hop-
ing to find out who had done it, and saw a
cat running along. He took the slippers
from the ground, and sent them, one after
another, at the animal's head ; however, he
missed his aim, and they went in at one of
the windows. He was beginning to curse,
and re-entered the house to stop the blood
which issued from his nose, when a loud
shriek pierced his ears ; not knowing the
reason, he ran quickly up to his daughter's
chamber, and beheld her on the floor, with
the slippers by her. She had fainted, and
while Bakarak called her slaves, he attempt-
ed to revive her; but finding it in vain, be-
gan to tremble. ' Oh, merciful Alia,' cried
he, ' protect your faithful Mussulman, and
let not my daughter's blood sink on this
head.' The attendants had now come, but
their endeavours were also vain to bring
Zelica to life; though no wound appeared,
the cursed slippers had certainly struck her
somewhere on the head ; and Mesroud con-
soled his master, by repeated exclamations
that she was murdered. * You cruel man !'
said he, ' it serves you properly ; had you
but united my poor, dear, beautiful dead
mistress, to the man she loved, all would
have been well : to be sure you did swear,
thut when those slippers ruined you, their
THE SLIPPERS. 79
marriage should take place, and though
that has happened, (for ruined he certainly is
who kills his oivu daughter), yet, alas ! 'tis of
no avail." — Drops of" perspiration stood on
Bakarak's brow, his joints trembled, and he
fell on his knees. ' Oh Mahomivied, restore
my Zelica, and I vow, by all my hopes of
Paradise, since 'tis clearly your wish, that
I will no longer oppose her union with Ka-
rabeg, the Cadi's son/ He arose. ' Oh !•
those cursed, cursed slippers, they have in-
deed proved my ruin, and I find 'tis impi-
ous to war against fate.' Zelica now began
to recover, though slowly, (for know, gentle
reader, though apparently dead, she was as
much alive as you who honour these pages
by a perusal, and my only fear is, that their
contents may not have made you so merry
as her father's vow made her) : thinking it
unnecessary to feign longer, she, in a short
time, was perfectly revived, to Bakarak's
great joy, who did not suspect the trick
practised on him ; for though, when Zelica
saw the slippers enter her window, she was
not touched by them, an idea struck her,
that answered her purpose equally well.
Bakarak's vow had been heard by Mesroud
and the rest of the slaves, so that an at-
tempt to deny would have been fruitless ;
he therefore sent for old Mustapha, who was
t«o good a man to object to a reconciliation,
G 2
80 THREE THIEVES,
and had his son's happiness too much at
heart, to find obstacles to the proposed
union. He soon prepared the necessary
papers ; nor had he reason to complain of
his friend Bakarak, whose miserly disposi-
tion the late events had completely turned ;
and who, having promised to give a public
rejoicing whenever he got rid of his slippers,
performed his promise on the day that he
Saw the lovers united ; for Karabeg joyful-s-
ly accepted them as a remembrance of the
means by which his marriage had been
brought about, and, what was wonderful,
long as he lived to enjoy the beautiful Zeli-
ca, he never beheld them but with gratitude,
for the blessing they had been the humble
instruments of Providence in bestowing on
him.
THREE DEXTEROUS THIEVES.
Three rogues, in the vicinage of Lan, un-
iting the ingenuity of their talents, had, for
a considerable time, put both monks and
laymen under contribution. Two of them
THR EE THIEVES. 81
vi-ere brothers ; tlieir names Hamet and Be-
rard. Their father^ who had followed the
same profession, had just finished his career
at the gallows. The name of the third was
Travers. Tlrey never robbed or murder-
ed ; but only pursued the business of pilfer-
ing and kidnapping ; in which they arrived
to an astonishing degree of ingenuity.
As they were walking together one day
in the wood of Lan., and talking of their
several feats of dexterity, Hamet, the eldest
of the two brothers, espied, at the top of a
tree, a magpie's nest, and saw the mother
i\y into it. *' Brother,'"* said he to Berard,
*' what A\'oald you say to a person that
should propose to go and take the egj^s from
under that bird without alarming it ?"* " I
should tell hiai,"* answered the younger bro-
ther, *' that he was a fool, and proposed a
thing impossible to be done."' " Well, learn
my friend, that he who cannot accomplish
so practicable a theft, is but a booby in his
profession. Observe me." This said, he
immediately climbs the tree. Having reach-
ed the nest, he makes a hole in it under-
neath, receives softly in his hands the eggs,
as they slip through the opening, and brings
them down, desiring his companions to ob-
serve that not a single egg was broken.
" By my soul,'' cries Berard, *• I must allow
you to be an incomparable thief ; but if you
G3
82 THREE THIEVES.
would go and replace the eggs under the
mother, as quietly as you have taken them
from her, we shall acknowledge you our
master."
Hamet accepts the challenge, and again
mounts the tree : but his brother designed
a trick upon him. The latter, as soon as
he sees the other at a certain height, says to
Travers, " You have just bieen a witness to
Hamet's dexterity ; you shall now see what
I can do in the same way." He instantly
climbs the tree, and follows his brother from
branch to branch ; and while his eyes were
fixed upon the nest, entirely taken up with
his design, and watching every motion of
the bird, the slipper}^ rogue loosens his trow-
sers, and brings them down as a signal of
triumph. Hamet, in the meantime, con-
trives to replace all the eggs ; and coming
down, looks for the praise due to so clever
an exploit. '* O, you want to deceive us,""
said Berard, bantering him, '• I'll wager
that you have concealed the eggs in your
trowsers.'' The other looks^ sees that his
trowsers are gone, and soon finds out the
trick of his brother. '' Excellent rogue,'"'
says he,'** to outwit another."
As for Travers, he was lost in equal a(t-
miiation of these two heroes, and could not
determine which had the advantage. Cut
feeling himself humbled at their superiority,
tllR£E THIEVES. 83
and piqued at not being able to contend
with them, cried, " Friends, you are too
knowing lor me. You would escape twen-
ty times, when I should be the scape-goat.
1 perceive that I am too aukward to thrive
in this business ; so I shall go and follow
my own trade. I renounce thieving for
ever. I have good strong arms, and will
return home and live Avith my wife. With
the help of God, I shall be able to procure
a subsistence. He fulfilled his declaration,
and returned to the village. His wife lov-
ed him ; he became an honest man, and set
himself to work with so much industry, that
at the close of a few months he had earned
wherewithal to buy a h(;g. The animal was
fattened at home. At Christmas he killed
it ; and having h^.mg it in the usual wa,y,
against the witll, he went into the fields.
The two brothers, who had not seen him
since their separation, came at this very time
to pay him a visit. Tlie wife was alone
spinning. She told them, that her husband
was just gone out, and that he would not
return till night. With eyes accustomed
to examine every thing, you may swear the
hog could not escape their notice. " Oh,
oh I" said they, on going out, '' this fellow
is about to regale, and did not think us
worth inviting. Well, we must carry oil'
hiji pork, and eat it without him." Th^
S4 THREE THIEVES*
rogues then laid their plot ; and till night
should enahle them to act, they went and
concealed themselves behind a neighbouring
hedge.
At night, when Travers returned, his
wife told him of the visit she had received,
** I was much alarmed,"' said she, " at being
alone with them ; they had so suspicious an
appearance, that I did not venture to ask
either their names or business. But they
searched every corner with their eyes ; I
don't think u single peg escaped their no-
tice/' — " Ah ! it must have been my two
queer companions*'' cried Travers in great
trouble; " my hog is lost^ and I now hear».
tily wish I had sold him." " We have still
a resource," said the wife : " let us take
down the pork, and hide it somewhere all
night. To-morrow morning you may con-
sider what is to be done." Travers follow-
ed his wife's advice. He took down tlie
park, and laid it under the bread oven, at
the opposite side of the room ; after which
he lay down, but not with his mind perfect-
ly at ease^
Night being come, the two brothers ar
rived to accomplish their project ; and while
the eldest kept watch, Berard began to pe-
netrate the wall in that part where he had
seen the pork hanging. But he quickly per-
ceived that nothing was left except the string
THREE l-HlEVESi 85
by which it was suspended. *' The bird is
flown,"" said he, " we are come too late/'
Travers, whom his drend of being robbed
kept awake, thinking he heard a noise, wak-
ed his wife, and ran to the oven to see if the
pork was still safe. Me found it there ; but
ns he was also apprehensive for his barn and
stable, he determined to make the circuit of
them ; and went out armed with a hatchet.
Berard, who had heard him go out, took
the opportunity to pick open the door ; and
approaching the bed, and counterfeiting the
voice of the husband, " Mary," said he^
" the pork is removed from the wall. What
have you done with it ?''^ " Don't you re-
member, then, that we put it under the
bven,"" answered the wife ; " what, has fear
turned your brain ?" *' No, no,'' replied the
other, " I had only forgot. But stop, I will
secure it." In saying which, he lifts the
pork upon his shoulders, and runs off.
After having gone his rounds, and careful-
ly visited his doors, Travers returned to the
(chamber. " I have got a husband,"' said
the woman, " who, it must be confessed,
has a curious head upon his ghbulders ; to
forget one moment what he had done with
Iiis pork another.'" At these words Travers
set up a cry. " I told you, they would steal
it from me ; it is gon6, and I shall never
see it more." Yet) as the thieves could not
86 THREE THIEVES.
be gone far, he had still some hopes of re*
covering it ; and instantly ran after them.
They had taken to a by-path across the
fields, that led towards the wood, where
they intended to hide their booty. Hamet
went before, to secure the way ; and the
brother, whose load was a considerable im-
j)ediment, followed him at a small distance.
Travers soon came up with the latter. He
saw him plainly, and recognised him. " You
must be somewhat tired,"" said he, assuming
the voice of the elder brother ; " give me
the lo^d, and let me take my turn.'' Berard,
who thought his brother was speaking to
him, gave Travers the pork and walks on.
But he had not proceeded an hundred yards,
before, when, to his great astonishment, he
falls in with Hamet. " Zounds r cried he,
*' I have been ensnared. That rogue Tra-
vers has taken me in ; but see if I cannot
make amends for my folly."
He then strips himself, puts his shirt over
his clothes, makes himself a kind of woman"**
cap, and in this trim runs as fast as he can
by another path to the house of Travers,
whose arrival he waits at the door. As he
sees him approaching, he comes, appearing
as his wife, to meet him, and asks, with a
feigned voice, whether he had recovered the
pork. '' Yes, I have it,"' answered the hus-
band. *' Well, give it me, and run quickly
THREE THIEVES. ST
to the stable, for I hear a noise there, and
I fear they have broke in." Travers then
throws the carcase upon the other's shoul-
der, and goes once more to make his rounds.
But when he returns to the house, he is sur-
prised to find his wife in bed, crying, and
half dead with fear. He then perceives that
he has again been cheated. Nevertheless,
he was determined not to give out ; and, as
if his honour was concerned in the adven-
ture, he vowed not to give up the contest,
till by some means or other he came off vic-
torious.
He suspected that the thieves this trip
would hardly take the same road ; but he
knew the forest was the place they would
make for, and accordingly went the short-
est way to it. They had in fact already got
there ; and in their triumph and eagerness
to taste the fruit of their dexterity, they
had just lighted a fire at the foot of an oak,
^to broil a piece of the meat. The wood was
green, and burnt but indifierently ; so that,
to make it blaze, they were obliged to go
and gather some dry leaves and rotten
branches.
Travers, whom the light directed to the
thieves, takes the advantage of tlieir distance
from the fire. He strips himself entirely,
climbs the oak, suspends himself by one arm^,
in the position of a man who had been hang*
88 THREK THIEVES,
ed, when he sees them returned, and busy
in blowing the fire, he roars out with a voice
like thunder, " Unhappy wretches ! you will
come to the same end as me." The twQ
jarothers, in confusion, imagine they see and
hear their father, and think of nothing but
their escape. The other quickly snatches
his clothes and his pork, returns in triumph
to his wife, and gives an account of his re-r
cent victory. She congratulates him with
a kiss, on so bold and well executed a mar
noeuvre. ** Let us not yet flatter ourselveg
with too much security,"' said he ; " these
queer fellows are not far off, and as long as
the pork subsists, I shall not think it out of
danger. But boil some water, we'll dress it;
and if they return, we shall see what me-
thod they will devise to get hold of it again.''
Tlie one then made a fire, while the other
divided the carcase, and put it piece by piece
into the kettle ; they both then seated them-
selves to watch it, one on each side of the
fire-place.
But Travers, who was almost exhausted
for want of rest, and fatigued by the opera-
tions of the night, soon began to shew a
propensity to sleep. '' Go, and lay yourself
down," said the wife ; "I will take care of
the pot; all is fastened, there is nothing to
fear. At all events, if I should hear a noise,
I'll give you notice." On this assurance, he
THREE THIEVES. 89
threw himself in his clothes upon the bed,
and immediately fell fast asleep. The wife
continued for some space of time to watch
the cauldron ; but drowsiness began to over-
power her likewise ; and at last she fell a-
sleep in her chair.
In the meantime, our thieves, after re-
covering from their alarm, had returned to
the oak ; but finding there neither pork,
nor man in chains, they easily unravelled
the plot. They conceived themselves dis-
honoured, if in this conflict of stratagems-
Travers should finally have the advantage:
So they returned to his house, resolved, for
the last time, to strain their ingenuity to
the utmost.
Before they undertook any thing, Berard
looked through the hole he had made in the
wall, to see if the enemy was upon his guard.
He saw on the one hand Travers stretched
ort upon his bed, and on the other the wife,
whose head nodded from one side to another,
with a ladle in her hand, while the pork wag
boiling in the cauldron. " They had a
mind to save us the trouble of cooking it,"
said Berard to his brother : " and indeed it
was the least they could do, considering
what work they have given us already. Be
steady, and rest assured that 1 will help you
to some of it." He then goes, and cuts
-down a long pole, which he sharpens at one
H
90 MCOLAS PEDROSA.
end. With this pole he climbs to the roof,
and letting it down through the chimney,
sticks it into a piece of pork, and raises it
«p.
Travers at that instant happened to wake.
He saw the manoeuvre, and judged, that,
with such expert enemies, peace was prefer-
able to war. " Friends," cried he, " we are
both to blame ; you, in breaking through
the roof of my house ; and I, in not invit-
ing you to partake of my pork. Come
down, and let us feast together." He went
and opened the door to them. They sat
dow n together at table, and w^ere heartily
reconciled to each other.
NICOLAS PEDROSA.
Nicolas Pedrosa, a busy little being, who
follow^ed the trade of shaver, surgeon, and
man-midwife in the town of Madrid, mount-
ed his mule at the door of his shop in the Pla-
zuela de los Affligidos, and pushed through
the gate of San Bernardino, being called to
a patient in the neighbouring village of Fon-
carral, upon a pressing occasion. Every
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 91
body knows, that the ladies in Spain, in cer-
tain cases, do not give long warning to
practitioners of a certain description, and
nobody knew it better than Nicolas, who
was resolved not to lose an inch of his way,
nor of his mule's best speed by the way, if
cudgelling could beat it out of her. It was
plain to Nicolas's conviction, as plain could
be, tliat his road lay straight forward to the
little convent in front ; the mule was of o-
pinion, that the turning on the left down
the hill towards the Prado^ was the road of
all roads most familiar and agreeable to her-
self, and accordingly began to displite the
point of topography with Nicolasj by fixing
her forefeet resolutely in the ground, dip-
ping her head at the same time between
them, and launching heels and crupper fu-
riously into the air, in the way of argument.
Little Pedrosa, who was armed at heel with
one massy silver spur, of stout thousjh an-
cient workmanship, resolutely applied the
rusty rowel to the shoulder of his beast, and
at the same time, adroitly tucking his blue
cape under his right arm, and flinging his
skirt over his left shoulder oi cavalier^ began
to lay about him with a stout ashen sapling,
upon the ears, pole^ and cheeks, of the re-
creant mule. The fire now flashed from a
pair of Andalusian eyes^ as black as charcoal,
and not less inflammable, and taking the se-
H2
92 NICOLAS PEDROSA*
^ara from liis mouth, with which he had
vainly hoped to have regaled his nostrils in
a sharp winter's evening bj the way, raised
such a thundering troop of angels, saints,
and martyrs, from Saint Michael, down-
wards, not forgetting his own namesake St
Nicolas de ToJentino, by the way, that if
curses could have made th€ mule to go, the
<lispute would have been soon ended ; but
not a saint could make her stir any other
ways than upwards and downwards at a
-stand. A small troop of mendicant friars
were at this moment conducting the host to
« dying man. — " Nicolas Pedrosa,*" says an
old friar, *' be patient with your beast, and
spare your blasphemies; remember Balaam/"*
— " Ah ! father," replied P^drosa, " Balaam
cudgelled his beast till she spoke, so will I
mine till she roars."- — " Fie, fie, prophane
fellow,"" cries another of the fraternity.
*' Go about your work, friend," quoth Ni-
colas, *' and let me go about mine; I war-
rant it is the more pressing of the two ; your
patient is going out of the world, mine i^
coming into it." " Hear him," cries a third,
" hear the vile wretch how he blasphemes
the body of God." And then the troop pass-
•ed slowly on to the tinkling of the bell.
A man must know nothing of a mule'*
^ars, who does not know what a passion they
-fcave for the tinkling of a bell ; and no soon-
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 93
er had the jingling chords vibrated in the
sympathetic organs of Pedrosa's beast, than
bolting forward with a sudden spring, she
ran roaring into the throng of friars, tramp-
ling on some, and shouldering others, at a
prophane rate ; when Nicolas availing him-
self of the impetus, and perhaps not able to
control it, broke away, and was out of sight
in a moment. *' All the devils in hell blow
fire into thy tail, thou beast of Babylon,"
muttered Nicolas to himself, as he scamper-
ed along, never once looking behind him, or
stopping to apologise for the mischief he had
done to the bare feet and shirtless ribs of the
holy brotherhood,
Whether Nicolas saved his distance, as
likewise, if he did, whether it was a male or
a female Castiliau he ushered into the world,
we shall not just now inquire, contented to
await his return in the first of the morning,
next day, when he had no sooner dismount-
ed at his shop, and delivered his mule to a
sturdy xXrragone^e wench, than Don Ignacia
de Santos Aparicio, Alguazil-mayor of the su-
preme and general inquisition, put an order
into his hand, signed and sealed by the In-
quisidor-general, for the conveyance of his
body to the Casa. whose formidable door
presents itself in the street adjoining to the
square in which Nicoias's brazen basin hung
forth, the emblem of his trade.
H 3
94 NrcOLAS PEDROSA.
The poor little fellow, trembling in eVery
joint, and with a face as yellow as saffron,
<lropt a knee to the altar which fronts the
entrance, and crossed himself most devoutly :
as soon as he had ascended the first flight of
stairs, a porter hahited in black opened the
tremendous barricade, and Nicolas, with
horror, heard the grating of the heavy bolts
that shut him in. He was led through pas*
sages, and vaults, and melancholy cells, till
he was delivered into tl>e dungeon, where
he was finally left to his solitary meditations.
Hapless being ! what a scene of horror !
JSicolas felt all the terrors of his condition,
but being an Andalusian, and, like his coun^
trymeia, of a lively imagination^ he began
to turn over all the resources of his inven-
tion for some haj>py fetch, if any such might
occur, for helping him out of the dismal
limbo he was in : he had not long to seek
for the cause of his misfortune ; his adven-
ture with the barefooted friars was a ready
solution of all difficulties of that nature, had
there been any ; there was, however, another
thing, which might have troubled a stouter
heart than Nicolas's — he was a Jew. — This,
of a certain, would have been a staggering
item in a poor devil's confession, but then
it was a secret to all the world but Nicolas,
and Nicolas's conscience did not then urge
him to reveal it. He now began to overhaul
NICOLAS FEDROSA. 95
t1ic inventory of his personals about hiiri)
and with some satisfaction counted three
little medals of the blessed Virgin, two Ag-
nus Deis, a Saint Nicolas de Tolentino, and
a formidable string of beads, all pendant
from his neck, and within his shirt ; in his
pockets, he had a paper of dried figs, a small
bundle of segars, a case of lancets, squirt
and forceps, and two old razors in a lea--
thern envelope; these he had delivered one
by one to the alguazil, who first arrested
him — " and let him make the most of them,'*
said he to himself, " they can never prove
an Israelite by a case of razors." Upon a
closer rummage, how^ever, he discovered in a
secret pocket, a letter, which the Alguazil
had overlooked, and which his patient Don-
na Leonora de Casafonda had given him in
charge to deliver as directed. — *' Well^
well," cried he, *' let it [)ass; there can be
no mystery in this harmless scrawl ; a let-
ter of advice to some friend or relation ; I'll
not break the seal ; let the fathers read it,
if they like, 'twill prove the truth of my de-
position, and help out my excuse for the
hurry of my errand, and the unfortunate ad-
venture of a damned refractory mule."— And
now no sooner had the recollection of the
wayward mule crossed the brain of poor Ni-
colas Pedrosa, than he began to blast her at
a furious rate. — '• The scratches and the
V6 NICOLAS PEDROSA.
scab to boot confound thy scurvy hide,"
quoth he, " thou ass-begotten bastard, whom
Noah never let into his ark! The vengeance
take thee, for an uncreated barren beast of
promiscuous generation ! What devil's
trotchet got into thy capricious noddle, that
thou shouldst fall in love with that Nazari-
tish bell, and run bellowing like Lucifer in-
to the midst of those barefooted vermin,
who are more malicious and more greedv
than the locusts of Egypt? Oh ! that I had
the art of Simon Magus to conjure thee in-
to this dungeon in my stead ; but I warrant
thou art chewing thy barley straw without
any pity for thy wretched master, whom
thy jade's tricks have delivered bodily to
the tormentors, to be sport for these uncir"-
cumcised sons of Dagon." And now the
cell door opened, when a savage figure en-
tered, carrying a huge parcel of clanking
fetters, with a collar of iron, which he put
round the neck of poor Pedrosa, telling him,
with a truly diabolical grin, whilst he was
rivetting it on, *• tliat it was a proper cravat
for the throat of a blasphemer." — " Jesus
Maria !" n^ioth Pedrosa, " is all this fallen
upon me, for only cudgelling a restive
mule ?'.' " Aye," cried the demon, " and
this is only a tast^ of what is to come," at
tiie same time, slipping his pincers from the
screw he was forciiig to the head, he caught
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 97
ft piece of flesh in the forceps, and wrenched
it out of his cheek, laughing at poor Nicolas^
whilst he roared aloud with the pain, telling
him it was a just reward for the torture he
had put him to a while ago, when he tugged
at a tooth till he broke it in his jaw." " Ah,
for the love of heaven," cried Pedrosa, " have
more pity on me ; for the sake of Saint Ni-
colas de Tolentino, my holy patron, be not
so unmerciful to a poor barber-surgeon; and
I will shave your worship's beard for no
thing as long as I have life.""' One of the
messengers of the auditory now came in,
and bade the fellow strike oft' the prisoner's
fetters, for that the holy fathers were in
council, and demanded him for examination.
" This is something extraordinary,"* quoth
the tormentor, " I should not have expect-
ed it this twelvemonth to come." Pedrosas
fetters were struck off; some brandy was
applied to staunch the bleeding of his cheek;
his hands and face were washed, and a short
jacket of coarse ticking thrown over him ;
and the messenger, with an assistant, taking
him each under an arm, led him into a spa-
cious chamber, where at the head of a long
table sat his excellency the Inquisitor-gene-
ral with six of his assessors, three on each
side the chair of state : the alguazil-mayor,
a secretai'y, and two notaries, with other offi-
cers of the holy council, were attending in
their place*.
&8 NICOLAS PEDR05A.
The prisoner was placed behind a bar at
the foot of the table, between the messen*
f^ers who brought him in ; and having made
his obeisance to the awful presence, in the
most supplicating manner, he was called
upon, according to the usual form of ques-
tions, by one of the junior judges, to de-
clare his name, parentage, profession, age,
place of abode, and to answer various inter-
rogatories^ of the like trifling nature : his
Excellency the Inquisidor-general now open-
ed his reverend lips, and in a solemn tone
of voice, that penetrated to the heart of the
poor trembling prisoner, interrogated him
as follows :
" Nicolas Pedrosa, we have listened to
the account you give of yourself, your busi-
ness, and connections ; now tell us for what
offence or offences,' you are here standing a
prisoner before us ; examine your own
heart, and speak the truth from your con-
science without prevarication or disguise."
*' ^lay it please your excellency," replied
Pedrosa, " with ail due submission to your
holiness and tiiis reverend assembly, my
most equitable judges, I conceive 1 stand
here before you for no worse a crime than
that of cudgelling a refractory mule ; an ani--
mal so restive in its nature, (under correc-
tion of your holiness be it spoken), that al-
though i were blessed with the forbearance of
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 99
holy Job (for like him too I am married, and
my patience hath been exercised by a wife) ;
yet could I not forbear to smite my beast for
her obstinacy, and the rather because I was
summoned in the way of my profession, as
I have already made known to your most
merciful ears, upon a certain crying occasion,
which would not admit of a moment's de-
lay."
'' Recollect yourself, Nicolas,"" said his
Excellency the Inquisidor-general; " was
there nothing else you did, save smiting
your beast ?''
'* I take Saint Nicolas de Tolentino to
witness,"' replied he, " that I know of no
other crime, for which I can be responsible
at this righteous tribunal, save smiting my
unruly beast/' " Take notice, brethren,*'
exclaimed the Inquisidor, *' this unhol}'
wretch holds trampling over friars to be up
crime."
" Pardon me, holy father," replied Ni-
colas, " I hold it for the worst of crimes,
and therefore willino^ly surrender my refrac-
tory mule to be dealt with it as you see fit ;
and if you impale her alive, it will be no more
than she deserves."
" Your wits are too nimble, Nicolas,*'
cried the judge ; '• have a care they do not
run away with your discretion ; recollect
the blasphemies you uttered in the hearing
of those pious people."
100 NICOLAS PEDROSA.
" I humbly pray your Excellency,'*' em>
swered the prisoner, *' to recollect that an-
ger is a short madness, and I hope allow-
ances will be made by your holy council for
words spoke in haste to a rebellious mule :
the prophet Balaam was thrown off his guard
by a simple ass, and what is an ass compar-
ed to a mule ? If your Excellency had seen
the lovely creature that was screaming in
agony till I came to her relief, and how fine
a boy I ushered into the world, which would
have been lost but for my assistance, I am
sure I should not be condemned for a few
hasty words spoken in passion."
" Sirrah !'' cried one of the puisny judges,
*' respect the decency of the court." " Pro-
duce the contents of this fellow's pockets be-
fore the court,'"' said the president; " lay
them on the table."
" Monster," resumed the aforesaid puisny
judge, taking up the forceps, *' what is the
use of this diabolical machine ?" " Please
your reverence," replied Pedrosa, " aptum
est ad extrahendos foetus." — *' Unnatural
wretch," again exclaimed the judge, " you
have murdered the mother."
" The mother of God forbid !" exclaim
ed Pedrosa. " I believe I have a proof in
my pocket that will acquit me of that
charge ;" and so saying, he tendered the let-
ter we hare before made mention, of. The
NICOLAS PEDROSA, 101
i^cretary took it, and by command of the
comt read as follows ;
" Sc?nor Don Manuel de Herrera,
" When this letter, which I send by Ni-
colas Pedrosa, shall reach your hands, you
will know that I am safely delivered of a
lovely boy, after a dangerous labour, in con-
sideration of which I ])ray you to pay to
the said Nicolas Pedrosa the sum of twenty
gold pistoles, which sum his Excellency — "
" Hold," cried the Inquisitor-general,
starting hastily from his seat, and snatch-
ing away the letter, " there is more in this
than meets the eye : break up the court ; I
must take an examination of this prisoner
in private."
As soon as the room was cleared, the In^
quisitor-general, beckoning to the prisoner
to follow hini; retired into a private closet,
where, throwing himself carelessly into an
arm chair, he turned a gracious countenance
upon the poor affrighted accoucheur, rnd
bidding him sit down upon a low stool by
his side, thus accosted him: — " Take heart.
Senior Pedrosa, your imprisonment is not
likely to be very tedious, for I have a com-
mission you must execute without loss of
lime : you have too much consideration for
yourself to betray a trust, the violation of
which must involve you in inevitable
ruin, and can in no degree attaint my charr*
102 NICOLAS PEDROSA,
acter, which is far enough beyond the reach
of mahce ; be attentive, therefore, to my
orders; execute them punctually, and keep my
secret as you tender your own life : dost thou
know the name and condition of the lady
whom thou hast delivered ?" Nicolas assur-
ed him he did not, and his Excellency pro-
ceeded as follows; " Then I tell thee, NicoU
as, it is the illustrious Donna Leonora de
Casafonda ; her husband is the president
of Quito, and daily expected with the next
arrivals from the South Seas ; now, though
measures have been taken for detaining him
at the port, wherever he shall land, till he
shall receive further orders, yet you must be
seflsible Donna Leonora's situation is some-
what delicate : it will be your business to
take the speediest measure for her recovery ;
but as it seems she has had a dangerous and
painful labour, this may be a work of more
time than could be wished, unless some me-
dicines more efficacious than common are
administered ; art thou acquainted with any
such, friend Nicolas ?*'—*' So please your
Excellency," quoth Nicolas, *' my processes
have been tolerably successful ; I have ban-
dages and cataplasms, with oils and con^
serves, that I have no cause to complain of;
they will restore nature to its proper state
in all decent time." — " Thou talkest like a
fool, friend Nicolas/V interrupting him, said
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 1 OS
tlie Inquisidor ? " What tellest thou me of
thy swathings nnci swaddlings ? quick work
must be wrought by quick medicine : hast
thou none such in tiiy botica ? Ill answer
for it thou hast not ; therefore, look you,
sirrah, here is a little vial compounded by
a famous chemist; see that you mix it in the
next apocem you administer to Donna Leo-
nora; it is the most capital sedative in nature;
give her the whole of it, and let her hus-
band return >yhen he will, depend upon it
he will make no discoveries from her."' —
*' Humph !'■* quoth Nicolas within himself,
" well said Inquisidor !'' He took the vial
with all possible respect, and was not wanting
in professions of the most inviolable fidelity
and secrecy — " No more words, friend Ni-
colas,"^ quoth the Inquisidor, " upon that
score; I do not believe thee one jot the
more for all thy promises, my dependence
is upon thy fears and not thy faith ; I fancy
thou hast seen enough of this place not to
be willing to return to it once for all !"
Having so said, he rang a bell, and ordered
Nicolas to be forthwith liberated, bidding
the messenger return his clothes instantly
to him with all that belonged to him, and
having slipt a purse into his hand well fill-
ed with doubloons, he bade him begone
about his business, and not see his face
sgain till he had executed his commands.
12
l04 Nicolas pedrosa.
Nicolas bolted out of the porch without
taking leave of the altar, and never checked
his speed till he found himself fairlj housed
under shelter of his own beloved brass ba*
sin — " Aha!" quoth Nicolas, '* my lord
Inquisidor, I see the king is not likely to
gain a subject more by your intrigues : a
pretty job you have set me about ; and soj
when I have put the poor lady to rest with
your damned sedative, my tongue must be
stopt next to prevent its blabbing : but I'll
shew you I was not born in Andalusia for
nothing." Nicolas now opened a secret
drawer, and took out a few pieces of money,
which, in fact, was his whole stock of cash
in the world ; he loaded and primed his
pistols, and carefully lodged them in the
housers of his saddle ; he buckled to his side
his trusty spada, and hastened to caparison
his mule. '' Ah, thou imp of the old one,"
quoth he, as he entered the stable, " art
not ashamed to look me in the face ? But
come, hussy, thou ov^est me a good turn,
methinks; stand by me this once, and be
friends for ever ! thou art in good case,
and if thou wilt put thy best foot foremost,
like a faithful beast, thou shalt not want for
barley on the way. The bargain was soon
struck between Nicolas and his mule, he
mounted her in the happy moment, and
pointing his course toward the bridge of
Toledo, which proudly strides with half a
isriCOLAS PEDROSA. 105
dozen lofty arches over a stream scarce
three feet wide, he found himself as .om-
pletely in a desart in half a mile's riding, as
if he had been dropt in the centre of Arabia
Petraea. As Nicolas's journey was not a
tour of curiosity, he did not amuse himself
with a peep at Toledo, or Talavera, or even
Merida, by the way : for the same reason
he took a circumhendlhiis round the frontier
town of Ikdajoz ; and crossing a little
brook, refreshed his mule with the last
draught of Spanish water, and intantly con-
gratulated himself upon ^ Altering the terri-
tory of PortJigal. *' brava !" quoth he,
patting the neck of his mule, " tiiou shalt
liave a su])|)er this night of the best sive-
meat that Estramadura can furnish : we are
now in a country Avhere the scattered Hock
of Israel fold thick and fare well." He now
began to chaunt the Song of Solomon, and
gently ambled on in the joy of his heart.
When Nicolas at length reached the city
of Lisbon, he hugged himself in his good
fortune; still he recollected that the inqui-
sition had long arms, and he was yet in a
place of no perfect security. Our adven-
turer had in early life acted as assistant-
surgeon in a Spanish frigate bound to
Buenos Ayres, and being captured by a Bri-
tish man of war and carried into Jamaica,
liad xery quietly passed some years in that
13
106 XICOLAS PEDROSA.
place as journeyman apothecary, in which
time he had acquired a tolerable acquaint-
ance with tiie English languaf^e. No sooner
then did he discover the British ensign fly-
ing on the poop of r.n English frigate then
lying in the Tagus, than he eagerly caught
the opportunity of paying a visit to the
surgeon ; and finding he was in want of a
mate, offered himself^ and was entered in
that capacity for a cruize against the French
and Spiiniards, with whom Great Britain
was then at war. In this secure asylum
T^icolas enjoyed the first happy moments he
had experienced for a long time past, and
being a lively good-humoured little fellow,
and one that touched the guitar and sung
sequidiilas with a tolerable grace, he soon
recommended liimself to his ship-mates, and
grew in favour with every body on boards
from the captain to the cook's mate.
When they were out upon tlieir cruize^
hovering on the Spanish coast, it occurred
to Nicolas, that the Inquisitor-general at
]\j[adrid had told him of the expected arri-
val of the president of Quito, avA having
imparted this to one of the lieutenants, he
reported it to the captain ; and as the in-
telligence seemed of importance, he availed
Wmself of it, by bawling into the track of
tbe hoiiieward-bound galleons, and great
was the joy, when at the break of the morn-
NICOLASPEDROSA, 107
ing the man at the mast-head announced a
square-rigged vessel in view. The ardour
of a chase now set all hands at work ; and a
few hours brought them near enough to dis-
cern that she was a Spanish frigate, and
seemingly from a long voyage : little Pe-
drosa, as alert as the rest, stript himself for
his work, and repaired to his post in the
cock-pit, whilst the thunder of the guns
reeled incessantly over his head ; three
cheers from tlic whole crew at length an-
nounced the moment of victory, and a few
more minutes ascertained the good news,
that the prize was a frigate richly laden
from t]\e South Seas, with the governor of
Quito and his suite on hoard.
Pedrosa was now called upon deck, and
sent on board the prize as interpreter to
the first lieutenant, who was to take pos-
session of h^r. — He found every thing in
confusion, a deck covered with thf' slain,
and the whole crew in consternation at an
event they were in no degree prepared for,
not having received any intimation of a war
He found the officers in general, and the
passengers without exceptioni, under the most
horrid impressions of the English, expect-
ing to be butchered without mercy. Do«
Manuel de Casafonda, the governor, whose
countenance bespoke a constitution far gone
in a decline, had thrown himself on a sofa-
108 NICOLAS PEi:)ROSAt
in the last state of despair, and given way
to an effusion of tears : when the lieutenant
entered the cabin, he rose trembling from
his couch, and witli the most supplicating
action presented to him his s^Tord, and with
it a casket which he carried in his other
hand : as he tendered these spoils to his
conqueror, whether through his weakness,
or of his own will, he made a motion of
bending his knee : the generous Briton,
shocked at the unmanly overture, caught
him suddenly with both hands, and turning
to Pedrosa, said aloud, — " Convince this
gentleman he is fallen into the hands of an
honourable enemy." — " Is it possible!" cried
Don Manuel, and lifting up his streaming
eyes to the countenance of the British of-
ficer, saw humanity, valour, and generous
pity, so strongly charactered in his youthful
features, that the conviction was irresistible.
*' Will he not accept my sword ?" cried the
Spaniard. *' He desires you to wear it, till
he has the honour of presenting you to his
captain." " Ah ! then he has a captain," ex-
claimed Don Manuel, " his superior will be
of anotlier way of thinking ; tell him this
casket contains my jewels ; they are valu-
able; let him present them as a lawful prize,
which will enrich the captor; his superior
will not hesitate to take them from me." —
'•' If they a,re your Excellency's private pro-
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 109
perty," replied Pedrosa, " I am ordered to
assure you, that if your ship were loaded
with jewels, no British officer in the service
of his king will take them at your hands ;
the ship and effects of his Catholic Majesty
kre the only prize of the captors ; the per-
sonals of the passengers are inviolate."— -
*' Generous nation !** exclaimed Don Ma-
nuel, *• how greatly have I wronged thee !**
*— The boats of the British frigate now came
alongside, and part of the crew were shifted
out of the prize, taking their clothes and
trunks along with them, in which they were
very cordially assisted by their conquerors.
The barge soon after came aboard with an
officer in the stern-sheets, and the crew in
their white shirts and v^elvet caps, to escort
the governor and the ship's captain on board
the frigate, which lay with her sails to the
mast, awaiting their arrival : the accommo*
dation-ladder was slung over the side, and
manned for the prisoners, who were receiv-
ed on the gang-way by the second lieuten*
ant, whilst perfect silence and the strictest
discipline reigned in the ship, where all
were under the decks, and no inquisitive
curious eyes were suffered to wound ^he
feelings of the conquered even with a glance.
In the door of his cabin stood the captain,
who received them with that modest com.
plaisance, which does not revolt the unfor
110 NICOLAS PEDROSA,
tunate by an overstrained politeness: he
was a man of high birth and elegant man^
ners, with a heart as benevolent as it was
brave : such an address, set off with a pei'-
son finely formed and perfectly engaging,
could not fail to impress the prisoners with
the most favourable ideas; aad as Don
Manuel spoke French fluently, he could
converse with the Jiritish captain without
the help of an interpreter: as he expressed
an impatient desire of being admitted to his
parole, that he might revisit his friends and
connections, from whom he had been long
separated, he was overjoyed to hear that the
English ship would carry her prize into
Lisbon ; and that he would there be set on
shore, and permitted to make the best of
his way from thence to Madrid. He talk*
ed of his wife with all the ardour of the
most impassioned lover, and apologized for
his tears, by imputing them to the agony
of his mind and infirmity of his health,
under the dread of being longer separated
from an object so dear to his heart, and on
whom he doated with the fondest affec-
tion. The generous captain indulged him
in these conversations, and being a hus-
band himself, knew how to allow for all
the tenderness of his sensations. " Ah, Sir,"
cried Don Manuel, " would to heaven it
were in my power to have the honour of
NICOLAS PEDROSA, 111
presenting my beloved Leonora to you on
our landing at Lisbon. — Perhaps," added he,
turning to Pedrosa, who at that moment
entered the cabin, " this gentleman, whom
I take to be a Spaniard, may have heard the
name of Donna Leonora de Casafonda ; if
he has been at Madrid, it is possible he may
have seen her ; should that be the case, he
can testify to her external charms ; I alone
can witness to the exquisite perfections of
her mind."^" Senior Don Manuel,""* repli-
ed Pedrosa, '^ I have seen Donna Leonora,
and your Excellency is warranted in all you
can say in her praise; she is of incomparable
beauty." These words threw the uxorious
Spaniard into raptures ; his eyes sparkled
with delight ; the blood rushed into his ema-
ciated cheeks, and every feature glowed
with unutterable joy: he pressed Pedrosa
with a variety of rapid inquiries, all which
he evaded by pleading ignorance, saying that
he had only a casual glance of her, as she
passed along the Prado. The embarrass-
ment, however, which accompanied these
answers, did not escape the English captain,
who, shortly after, drawing Pedrosa aside in-
to the surgeon's cabin, was by him made ac-
quainted with the melancholy situation of
that unfortunate lady, and every particular
of the story as before related; nay, the very
112 NICOLAS PEDROSAr
vial was produced, with its contents, as put
into the hands of Pedrosa by the inquisitor.
" Can there be such villany in man ?""
cried the British captain, when Pedrosa
had concluded his detail ; ** alas ! my heart
bleeds for this unhappy husband; assuredly,
that monster has destroyed Leonora; as for
thee, Pedrosa, whilst the British flag flies
over thy head, neither Spain, nor Portugal,
nor inquisitors, nor devils, shall annoy thee
under its protection ; but if thou ever ven-
turest over the side of this ship, and rashly
settest thy foot upon Catholic soil, when we
arrive at Lisbon, thou art a lost man." —
♦' 1 were worse than a madman,'"* replied
Nicolas, '•' should I attempt it." — *' Keep
close in this asylum, then," resumed the cap-
tain, '* and fear nothing : had it been our fate
to have been captured by the Spaniard, what
would have become of thee." — ** In the
worst of extremities," replied Nicolas, " I
should have applied to the inquisitor's vial;
but I confess I had no fears of that sort ; a
ship so commanded and so manned is in lit-
tle danger of being carried into a Spanish
port.""* — '* I hope not," said the captain,
^' and I promise thee, thou shalt take thy
chance in her as long as she is afloat under
my command ; and if we live to conduct her
to England, thou shalt have thy proper share
of prize-money, which^ n the galleon break*^
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 113
up according to her entries, will be some-
tliing towards enabling thee to shift, and
if thou art as diligent in thy duty, as I am
persuaded thou wilt be, whilst I live, thou
shalt never want a seaman's friend"".— At
these cheering words, little Nicholas threw
himself at the feet of his generous preserver,
and, with streaming eyes, poured out his
thanks from a heart animated with joy and
gratitude. — The captain raising him by the
hand, forbade him, as he prized his friend-
ship, ever to address him in that posture
any more ; " thank me, if you wili,""* add-
ed he, " but thank me as one man should
another ; let no knee bend in this ship but
in adoration of God. — But now,*" continued
he, " let us turn our thoughts to the situ-
ation of our unhappy Casafonda ; we are
now drawing near Lisbon, where he will
look to be liberated on his parole *" — " By
no means let him venture into Spain," said
Pedrosa ; " I am well assured there are or-
ders to arrest him in every port, or fron-
tier town, where he may present himself."
— I can well believe it," replied the captain;
" his piteous case will require further deli-
beration ; in the mean time, let nothing
transpire on your part; and keep 3'ourself
out of his si-;ht as carefully as you can. —
This said, the captain left the cabin, and
K
114 NICOLAS PEDROSA*
both parties repaired to their several occu-
pations.
As soon as the frigate, and her prize, cast
anchor in the Tagus, Don Manuel de Ca-
safonda impatiently reminded our captain of
his promised parole. The painful moment
was now come, when an explanation of
some sort became unavoidable : the generous
Englishman, with a countenance expressive
of the tenderest pity, took the Spaniard's
hand in his, and seating him on a couch be-
side him, ordered the centinel to keep the
cabin private, and delivered himself as fol-
lows : — ''
" Senior Don Manuel, I must now im-
part to you an anxiety which I labour un-
der on your account ; I have strong reasons
to suspect you have enemies in your own
country, who are upon the watch to arrest
you on your landing; when I have told you
this, I expect you willrepose such trust in my
honour, and the sincerity of my regard for
you, as not to demand a further explanation
of the particulars on which my intelligence
is founded/' — " Heaven and earth !'" cried
the astonished Spaniard, " who can be those
enemies I have to fear, and what can I have
done to deserve them ?'' — " So far I will
open myself to you,'' answered the captain,
" as to point out the principal to you. the
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 115
Inquisitor-general/' — " The best friend I
have in Spain,"" exclaimed the governor,
" my sworn protector, the patron of my
fortune : he my enemy ! impossible/' —
♦' Well, Sir,"'' replied the captain. '* if my
advice do not meet belief, I must so far
exert my authority for your sake, as to
make this ship your prison, till I have
waited on our minister at Lisbon, and
made the enquiries necessary for your
safety; suspend your judgment upon the
seeming harshness of this measure till I re-
turn to you again;" and, at the same time,
rising from his seat, he gave orders for the
barge ; after leaving strict injunctions with
the first lieutenant not to allow of the go-
vernor's quitting the frigate, he put off" for
the shore, and left the melancholy Spaniard
buried in profound and silent meditation
The emissaries of the inquisition having
at last traced Pedrosa to Lisbon, and there
gained intelligence of his having entered on
board the frigate, our captain had no sooner
turned into the porch of the hotel of Buenos-
Ayres, than he was accosted by a messen-
ger of state, with a requisition from the
prime minister's office, for the surrender of
one Nicolas Pedrosa, a subject of Spain, and
a criminal, who had escaped out of tiie pri-
sons of the inquisition in Madrid, where he
H 2
116 NICOLAS PEDROSA.
stood charged of high crimes and misde-
meanors — As soon as this requisition was
explained to our worthy captain, without
condescending to say a word in repl^, he
called for pen and ink, and writing a short
order to the officer commanding on board,
instantly dispatched the midshipman, who
attended him to the barge, with directions
to make the best of his way back to the
frigate, and deliver it to the lieutenant :
then turning to the messenger, he said to
him in a resolute tone, " That Spaniard is
now borne on my books, and before you
shall take him out of the service of my
king you must sink his ship." — Not waiting
for a reply, he instantly proceeded, without
stopping, to the house of the British Mini-
ster, at the further end of the city : here
he found Pedrosa's intelligence, with re-
gard to the Governor, expressly verified,
for the order had come down even to Lis-
bon, upon the chance of the Spanish fri-
gate's taking shelter in that port : to this
minister he related the horrid tale which
Pedrosa had delivered to him, and with his
concurrence it was determined to forward
letters into Spain, which Don Manuel should
be advised to write, to his lady and friends
at Madrid, and to wait their answer be-
fore any further discoveries were imparted
NICOLAS PEDROSA. 117
to him respecting the blackest circumstances
of the case : in the mean time it was re-
solved to keep the prisoner safe in his asy-
lum.
The generous captain lost no time in re-
turnnig to his frigate, where he immedi-
ately imparted to Don Manuel the intelli-
gence he had obtained at the British Mi-
nister's. — " This, indeed,'" cried the afflict-
ed Spaniard, " is a stroke I was in no re-
spect prepared for ; I had fondly persuaded
myself there was not in the whole empire
of Spain a more friendly heart than that
of the Inquisitor's ; to my beloved Leono-
ra he had ever shewn the tenderness of a
paternal affection from her very childhood;
by him our hands were joinod ; his lips
pronounced the nuptial benediction ; and
through his favour I vras promoted to my
government ; grant, heaven, no misfortune
hath befallen my Leonora ! surely she can-
not have offended him and forfeited his fa-
vour/' — " As I know him not,'' replied the
captain, " I can form no judgment of his
motives ; but this i know, that if a man's
heart is capable of cruelty, the fittest school
to learn it in must be the inquisition." The
proposal was now suggested, o^ sending let-
ters into Spain, and the governor retired to
his desk for the purpose of writing them
In the afternoon of the same day, the mi*
K3
118 NICOLAS PEDROSA.
nister paid a visit to the captain, and receiv-
ing a packet from the hands of Don Manuel,
promised to get it forwarded by a safe
conveyance according to the direction.
In due course of time, this fatal letter
from Leonora opened all the horrible trans-
action to the wretched husband :
" The guilty hand of an expiring wife,
under the agonising operation of a mortal
poison, traces these few trembling lines to
an injured, wretched husband. If thou hast
any pity for my pai ting spirit, fly the ruin
that awaits thee, and avoid this scene of
villany and horror. When I tell thee, I
have born a child to the monster, whose
poison runs in my veins, thou wilt abhor
thy faithless Leonora ; had I strength to
relate to thee the subtile machinations, which
betrayed me to disgrace, thou wouldst pity,
and periiaps forgive me. Oh agony ! can I
write his name ? — The Inquisitor is my
murderer — My pen falls from my hand —
Farewell for ever !"
Had a shot passed through the heart of
Don Manuel, it could not more eflfectually
have stopt its motions than the perusal of
this fatal writing : he dropped lifeless on
the couch, and but for the care and assist-
ance of the captain and Pedrosa, in that
posture he had probably expired. Grief
like his cannot be described by words, for
NICOLAS PEDROSA. J 19
to words it gave no utterance ; 'twas suffo-
cating, silent woe.
Let us drop the curtain over this melan-
choly pause in our narration, and attend up-
on the mournful widower, now landing up-
on English ground, and conveyed by his
humane and generous preserver to the house
of a noble Earl, the father of our amiable
captain, and a man by his virtues still more
conspicuous than by his rank. Here, a-
midst the gentle solicitudes of a benevolent
family, in one of the most enchanting spots
on earth, in a climate most salubrious and
restorative to a constitution exhausted by
heat, and a heart nearly broken with sor-
row, the reviving spirits of the unfortunate
Don Manuel gave the lirst symptoms of a
possible recovery. At the period of a few
tranquilHzmg weeks, here passed in the bo-
som of humanity, letters came to hand from
the British Minister at Lisbon, in answer
to a memorial, that I should have stated to
liave been drawn up by the friendly captain
before his departure from that port, with a
detail of facts deposed and sworn to by Ni-
colas Pedrosa ; which memorial, with the
documents attached to it, was forwarded to
the Spanish court by special express from
the Portuguese premier. By these letters
it appeared, that the high dignity of the
person impeached, by this statement of facts.
120 NICOLAS PEDROSA.
had not not been sufficient to screen him
from a very serious and complete investiga-
tion ; in the course of" which, facts had been
so clearly brought home to him, by the con-
fession of his several agents, and the testi-
mony of the deceased Leonora's attendants,
together with her own written declaration,
whilst the poison was in operation, that
though no public sentence had been €'xecut-
ed upon the criminal, it was generally un-
derstood, he was either no longer in exis-
tence, or in a situation never to be heard of
any more, till roused by the awakening
trump, he should be summoned to his tre-
mendous last account. As for the unhappy
widower, it was fully signilied to him, from
authority, that his return to Spain, whether
upon exchange or parole, would be no long-
er opposed ; nor had he any thing to appre-
hend on the part of government, when he
should arrive there. The same was signifir
ed in fewer words to the exculpated Pedrosa.
Whether Don Manuel de Casafonda will,
at a future period, avail himself of the over-
tures, time alone can prove : as for little
Nicolas, whose prize-money has set him up
in a comfortable little shop in Duke's-place,
where he breathes the veins and cleanses the
bowels of his Israelitish brethren in a land
of freedom and toleration, his merry heart
is at rest, save only when, with fire in his
LITTLE DOMINICK. 121
eyes and vengeance on Iiis tongue, he ana-
tiiematizes the inquisition ; and struts in
the synagogue every Sabbath, with as bold
a step and as erect a look, as if he was him-
self High Priest of the Temple, going to
perform sacrifices upon the re-assembling of
the scattered tribes.
LITTLE DOMINICK.
Little Dominick was born at Fort-Reilly,
in Ireland, and bred no where till his tenth
year ; when he was sent to Wales, to learn
manners and grammar, at the school of Mr
Owen ap Davies ap Jenkins ap Jones.
This gentleman had reason to think him-
self the greatest of men ; for he had, over
his chimney-piece, a well-smoked genealo-
gy, duly attended, tracing his ancestry in a
direct luie up to Noah ; and, moreover, he
was nearly related to the learned etymolo-
gist, who, in the time of Queen Elizabeth,
wrote a folio volume, to prove that the lan-
guage of Adam and Eve, in Paradise, was
pure Welch. With such causes to be proud.
122 LITTLB bOMINICK,
Mr Owen ap Davies ap Jenkins ap Jones
was excLiseable, for sometimes seeming to
forget that a schoolmaster is but a man.
He, however, sometimes entirely forgot,
that a boy is a boy; and this happened most
frequently with respect to Little Dominick.
This unlucky wight was flogged every
morning by his master ; not for vices, but
for his vicious constructions : and laughed
at by his companions every evening, for his
idiomatic absurdities. They would proba-
bly have been inclined to sympathise in his
misfortunes, but that he was the only Irish
boy at school ; and as he was at a distance
from all his relations, and without a friend
to take his part, he was a just object of ob-
loquy and derision. Every sentence he
spoke was a bull ; every two words he put
together proved a false concord ; and every
sound he articulated betrayed the brogue ;
but as he possessed some of the characteris-
tic boldness of those that have been dipped
in the Shannon, though he was only Little
Dominick, he shewed himself able and will-
ing to fight his own battles with the host of
foes by whom he was encompassed. Some
of these, it was said, were nearly twice his
stature. This may be exaggerated ; but it
is certain, that our hero sometimes ventur-
ed, with sly Irish humour, to revenge him-
i^lf on his more powerful tyrant, by mim-
LITTLE DOMINICK. 123
icking the Welch accent, in which Mr Owen
ap Jones said to him — " Cot bless me, you
plockit, and shall I ever learn you Enclish
crammer ?"
It was whispered in the year of our Dio-
hysius, that our little hero was a mimick ;
and he was now treated with increased se-
verity.
The midsummer holidays approached ;
but he feared that they would shine no ho-
lidays for him. He had written to his mo-
ther, to tell her that the school would break
up on the 21st, and to beg an answer, with-
out fail, by return of post: but no answer
came.
It was now nearly two months since he
had heard from his dear mother, or any of
his friends in Ireland. His spirits began to
sink under the pressure of these accumulat-
ed misfortunes : he slept little, eat less, and
played none at all. Indeed, nobody would
play with him on equal terms, because he
was nobody's equal : his school-fellows con-
tinued to consider him as a being below, if
not of a different cast from themselves.
Mr Owen ap Jones's triumph over the
little Irish plockit was nearly complete, for
the boy's heart was almost broken, when
there came to the school a new scholar —
O, how unlike the others ! — His name was
Edwards : he w^as the son of a neighbour-
124 LITTLE DOMINICK.
ing Welch gentleman ; and he had himself
the spirit of a gentleman. When he saw
poor Dominick was persecuted, he took him
under his protection ; fought his battles
with the W^elch boys; and, instead of laugh-
ing at him for speaking Irish, he endeavour-
ed to teach him to speak English. In his
answer to the first questions Edwards ever
asked him, Little Dominick made two blun-
ders, which set all his other companions in
a roar ; yet Edwards would not allow them
to be genuine bulls.
In answer to the question — " Who is
3^our father.^'' Dominick said, with a deep
sigh — " I have no father — I am an orphan
— I have only a mother.'"*
" Have you any brothers and sisters .'^'^
" No ! I wish I had ; for, perhaps, they
would love me, and not laugh at me," said
Dominick, with tears in his eyes ; " but I
have no brothers hut myself.''''
One day, IVJr Owen ap Jones came into
the school-room with an open letter in his
hand, saying — *' Here you little Irish plock-
it ; here's a letter from your mother.'""
The little Irish blockhead started from
his form ; and, throwing his grammar on
the floor, leaped up higher than he or any
boy in the school had ever been seen to leap
before; then, clapping his hands, he exclaim-
ed — " A letter from my mother ! And will
LITTLE DOMINICK. 123
I hear the letter ? — And will I see her once
more ? — And will I go home these holidays?
— O, then I will be too happy !"
" There's no tanger of that," said Mr
Owen ap Jones, " for your mother, like a
wise woman, writes me here, that, py the
atvice of your cardian, to horn she is coing
to be married, she will not pring you home
to Ireland, till I send her word that you
are perfect in your Enclish crammar at
least."
" I have my lesson perfect. Sir," said
Dominick, taking his grammar up from the
floor ; " will I say it now ?"
" No, you plockit, you will not ; and I
will write your mother word, you have
proke Priscian's head four times this day,
since the letter came."
Little Dominick, for the first time was
seen to burst into tears — " Will I hear the
letter.? — Will I see my mother.? — Wi/l I
go home ?"
" You Irish plockit, will you never learn
the diflference between shall and will '^
" And will I see him once again ?
*' And will I hear him speak ?"
Many of the boys were, unfortunately,
too ignorant to feel the force of the quota-
tion ; but Mr Owen ap Jones understood
it, turned on his heel, and walked olf.
126 . LITTLE DOMINICK*
Soon afterward, he summoned little Do«
minick to his awful desk ; and, pointi)ig
with his ruler to the following page in Har-
ris'*s Hermes, bade him read it, and under-
stand it if he could.
Little Dominick read, but could not un-
derstand.
" Then read it aloud, you plockit.*^
Dominick read aloud —
'' There is nothing appears so clearli/ an
object of the mind, or intellect only, as the
future does ; since we can find no place for
it^s existence any where else ; not but the
same, if we consider, is equally true of the
past—.''
«' AVell, CO on— What stops the plockit?
— Cant you read Enclish now?"
" Yes, Sir; but I was trying to under-
stand it — I was considering, that this is like
what they would call an Irish bull, if I had
said it."
Little Dominick could not explain what
he meant in English, but Mr Owen ap Jones
would understand ; and to punish him for
his impertinent observation, the boy was
doomed to learn all that Harris and Lowth
have written to explain the nature of shall
and will. — The reader, if he be desirous of
knowing the full extent of the penance en-
joined, may consult Lowth's Grammar, p.
52, ed. 1799; and Harris's Hermes, p. 10,
11, and 12, fourth edition.
LITTLE DOMINICK. 127
Undi-'^^niayed by the length of his task,
Little Doininick only said — " I hope, if I
say it all, without missing a word, you will
not give my mother a bad account of me
and my grammar studies, Sir"
" Say it all at first, without missing a
word, and then I shall see what 1 shall say !""
replied Mr Owen ap Jones.
Even the encouragement of this oracular
answer excited the boy's fond hopes so keen-
ly, that he lent his little soul to the task ;
learned it perfectly ; said it at night, with-
out missing one word, to his friend Ed-
wards ; and said it, the next morning, with-
out missing one word, to his master.
" And now. Sir,"' said the boy, looking
up, " will you write my mother? — And
shall I see her ? — And shall I go home ?"
'* Tell me, first, whether you understand
all this that you have learnt so cliply ?''' said
Mr Owen ap Jones.
That was more than his bond. Our hero's
countenance fell ; and he acknowledged that
he did not understand it perfectly.
" Then I cannot write a coot account of
you and your crammar studies to your mo-
ther ; my conscience coes against it ! said
the conscientious Mr Owen ap Jones.
No intreaties could move him. Domi-
nick never saw the letter that was written
to his mother ; but he felt the consequence,
h2
128 LITTLE DOMINICK.
She wrote word, that time, punctually hy
return of the post, that she was sorry she
could not send for him home these holidays,
as she had heard so bad an account from
Mr Owen ap Jones, and she thought it her
duty not to interrupt the course of his edu-
cation, especially his grammar studies.
Little Dominick heaved many a sigh,
when he saw the packings up of all his
schoolfellows ; and dropped a few tears, as
he looked out of the window^, and saw them,
one after another, get on their Welch ponies,
and gallop off towards their homes.
^' I have no home to go to !"
" Yes, you have," cried Edwards ; and
our horses are at the door, to carry us there."
"To Ireland? Me! the horses!" said
the poor boy quite bewildered.
" No, the horses cannot carry you to
Ireland," said Edwards, laughing good-na-
turedly ; " but you have a home now in
England. I asked my father to let me
bring you home with me ; and he said —
*' Yes," like a dear, good father, and has
sent the horses — Come, let's away."
" But will Mr Owen ap Jones let me
go?"
" Yes, he dare not refuse; for my father
has a living in his gift, tliat Owen ap Jones
wants, and which he will not have if he do
not change his tone to you."
LITTLE DOMINICK. 129
Little Dominick could not speak one
word, his heart was so full.
No boy could be happier than he was,
during these holidays : " the genial current
of his soul," which had been frozen by un-
kindness, flowed with all its natural freedom
and force.
Whatever his reasons might be, Mr Owen
ap Jones, from this time forward, was ob-
served to change his manners towards his
Irish pupil. He never more complained,
unjustly, of his preaking Priscian's head ;
seldom called him Irish plockit; and once,
would have flogged a Welch boy for taking
up this cast ex})ression of the master's, but
that the Irish blockhead begged the culprit
off.
Little Dominick got forward rapidly in
his studies : he soon surpassed every boy
in the school, his friend Kdwards only ex-
cepted. In process of time, his guardian
removed him to a higher seminary of edu-
cation. Edwards had a tutor at home.
The friends separated- Afterwards, they
followed different professions, in distant
parts of the world ; and they neither saw,
nor heard any more of each other, for many
years.
Dominick, now no longer Little Domi-
nick, went over to India, as private secre-
tary to one of our commanders in chief.
L3
130 LITTLE DOMINICK.
How be got into this situation, or by what
gradations he rose in the world, we are not
exactly informed ; we know, only, that he
was the reputed author of a much admired
pamphlet on India affairs ; that the dis-
patches of the general, to whom he was se-
cretary, were remarkably well written ; and
that Dominick O'Reilly, Esq. returned to
England, after several years absence, not
miraculously rich, but with a fortune equal
to his wishes. His wishes were not extra-
vagant : his utmost ambition was, to return
to his native country, with a fortune that
should enable him to live independently of
all the world ; especially, of some of his re-
lations, who had not used him well. His
mother was no more !
On his arrival in London, one of the first
things he did, was to read the Irish news-
papers. To his inexpressible joy, he saw
the estate of Fort-Reilly advertised for s'le
— the very estate which belonged to his own
family. Away he posted directly to an at-
torney's, in Cecil-Street, who was empower-
ed to dispose of the land. ^
When the attorney had produced a map
of the well-known demesne, and an eleva-
tion of the house in which he had spent the
happiest hours of his infancy, his heart was
so touched, that he was on the point of pay-
ing down more for an old ruin than a good
LITTLE DOMINICK. 131
new house would Iiave cost. The attorney
acted honestly hi/ his client, and seized this
moment to exhibit a plan of the stabling
and offices ; which, as sometimes is the case
in Ireland, were in a stile far superior to
the dwelling-house. Our hero surveyed
these with transport. He rapidly planned
various improvements in imagination, and
planted certain favourite spots in the de^
mesne I During this time, the attorney was
giving directions to a clerk about some o-
ther business, when the name of Owen ap
Jones struck his ear — He started.
" Let him wait in the front parlour ; his
money is not forthcoming,"" said the attor-
ney ; " and, if he keep Edwards in jail till
he rots '"
" Edwards ! Good heavens ! — in jail ! —
What Edwards ?"' exclaimed our hero.
It was his friend Edwards !
The attorney told him, that Mr Edwards
had been involved in great distress, by tak-
ing on himself his father's debts, which had
been incurred in exploring a mine in Wales;
that, of all the creditors, none had refused
to compound, except a A\'elch parson, who
had been presented to his living by old Ed-
wards ; and that this Mr Owen ap Jones
had thrown young Mr Edwards into goal
for his debt.
*' What is the rascal's demand .? He shall
132 LITTLE DOMIiVICK. ^
be paid off this instant," cried Dominick,
throwing down the plan of Fort-Reiily :
" send for him up, and let me pay him off
on the spot."'
" Had not we best finish our business
first, about the O'Reilly estate, Sir ?"" said
the attorney.
" No, Sir ; d — n the 0-Reilly estate !"•
cried he, huddling the maps together on the
desk ; and, taking up the bank-notes, which
he had begun to reckon for the purchase-
money — " I beg your pardon. Sir — If you
knew the facts, you would excuse me —
Why does not the rascal come up to be
paid?'^
The attorney, thunderstruck by his Hi-
bernian impetuosity, had not found time to
take his pen out of his mouth. As he sat
transfixed in his arm-chair, O'Reilly ran to
the head of the stairs, and called out in a
Stentorian voice — " Here, you Mr Owen
ap Jones, come up, and be paid off this in-
stant, or you shall never be paid at all.'*'
Up stairs hobbled the old school-master,
as fast as the gout and Welch ale would let
him—" Cot pless me, that voice!" he be-
gan—
'* Whereas your bond. Sir ?^' said the at-
torney,
" Safe here, Cot be praised l" said the
terrified Owen ap Jones ; pulling out of hri
LITTLE DOMINICK. 133
bosonij first a blue pocket-handkerchief, and
then a tattered Welch grammar, which
O'Reilly kicked to the farther end of the
room.
*' Here is my pond," said he, " in the
Grammar," which he gathered from the
ground ; then, fumbling over the leaves, he
at length unfolded the precious deposit
O'Reilly saw the bond, seized it, looked
at the sum, paid it into the attorney's hands,
tore the seal from the bond ; then, without
looking at old Owen ap Jones, whom he
dared not trust himself to, he clapped his
hat on his head, and rushed out of the room.
He was, however, obliged to come back a-
gain, to ask where Edwards was to be found.
" In the King's Bench prison. Sir," said
the attorney. " But am I to understand,""
cried he, holding up the map of the O'Reilly
estate, " am I to understand that you have
no farther wish for this bargain ?"
" Yes — No — I mean, you are to under-
stand that 1 am off,"" replied our hero, with-
out looking back — " I'm off— That's plain
English."
Arriving at the King's Bench prison, he
hurried to the apartment where Edwards
was confined — The bolts flew back ; for
even the turnkeys seemed to catch our he-
ro's enthusiasm.
" Edwards, my dear boy ! how do you
134 LITTLE DOMINICK.
do ? — Here's a bond debt, justly due to you
for my fducation — O, never mind asking
unnecessary questions, only just meke haste
out 01 this undeserved abode — Our old ras-
cal is paid off— -Owen ap Jones, you know
— V>^ell, how the man stares : — Why, now,
will you have the assurance to pretend to
forget who I am ? — and must I spake, ^* con-
tinued he, assuming the tone of his child-
hood — *« And must I spake to you again, in
my old Irish brogue, before you will ricol^
lid your own Little Dominick T"*
When his friend Edwards was out of pri-
son, and our hero had leisure to look into
the business, he returned to the attorney,
to see that Mr Owen ap Jones had been sa-
tisfied.
" Sir," said the attorney, *' I have paid
the plaintiff in this suit, and he is satisfied;
but, I must say,'* added he, with a contem-
tuous smile, " that you Irish gentlemen are
rather in too great a hurry in doing busi-
ness : bushiess. Sir, is a thing that must be
done slowly, to be well done."
" I am read}^, now, to do business as slow-
ly as you please ; but when my friend was
in prison, I thought the quicker I did his
business the better. Now, tell me, what
mistake I have made, and I will rectify it
instantly/""
»* Instantly ! — 'Tis well, Sir, with your
LITTLE DOBIINICK. 185
promptltii<]o, that you have to deal with,
what prejudice tliinks so very uncommon —
an honest attorney. — Here are some bank,
notes ot your's, amounting to a good round
sum ! — You have made a little blunder in
this business ; you left me the penalty in-
stead of the principal of the bond — twice a$
much as you should have done."" ** Just
twice as much as was in the bond ; but not
twice as much as I should have done, in my
opinion !" said O'Reilly : " but, whatever
I did, it was with my eyes open. I was
persuaded you was an honest man ; in which
you see, I was not mistaken : and as a man
of business, I knew that you would pay Mr
Owen ap Jones only his due. The remain-
der of the money 1 meant, and now mean,
should lie in your hands for my friend Ed-
ward's use. I feared he would not have
taken it from my hands, and therefore left it
in yours. To have taken my friend out of
prison, merely to let him go back again to-
day, for want of money to keep himself
clear with the world, would have been a
blunder indeed ! but not an Irish blunder :
our Irish blunders are never blunders of the
heart."
PERVONTE, OR THE WISHES.
AsTOLPHO, King of Salernum, was the hand-
somest prince of his time. None of his loy-
al subjects ventured to contest the superio-
rity in point of beauty with him, whatever
might have been the secret opinion of some
courtiers, when contemplating their own
features in the looking-glasses of the anti-
chamber. The king was fond of this piece
of furniture ; it presented to him a figure
of which he had a very favourable opinion.
He arrived, however, imperceptibly, at a
period of life when his faithful looking-glasses
did not do their duty so much to his satis-
faction as they had done formerly. It was
his comfort that one remained, which re-
flected all his youthful charms. His daugh-
ter, the charming V^astola, seemed, in the
opinion of all the courtiers, to be cast in
the same mould with her father. Her beau-
ty subdued the proudest hearts ; none of
the most distinguished princes and knights
had approached her with impunity ; but
none of them were handsome enough to
PERVONTE. 137
make an impression on the haughty prin-
cess. She indeed permitted tliem to draw
her triumphal car till they were out of
breath ; and being desirous to preserve the
number of her admirers undiminished, she
bestowed, now and then, by turns, a little
smile on each of them ; but this smile was
always allayed w'ith a coldness that depriv-
ed of its effect, and nipped the rising hopes
in the bud. The king, who was not par-
tial to the name of grand-papa, permitted
his daughter to enjoy the delights of maid-
en cruelty ; and, till her twentieth year,
this goddess of Salernum, though surround-
ed with love-sick youths, who melted in the
rays of her beauty, continued to be cold and
obdurate in the midst of the (lames.
A singular event, which happened about
this lime, calls our attention from the court
to a neighbouring forest. On a fine sum-
mer-morning, a young hind entered this
wood, in order to gather a bundle of fag-
gots. I w^ish I could borrow the pencil of
nature, to draw^ a faithful picture of one of
her roughest crudities. Standing by his
bundle, in the most lazv posture imaginable,
he scratched his big head, dp.uled by a vast
mouth into two hemispheres. Short red
bristles covered his head, and seemed to
blaze roimd his temples ; his ears were of
an extraordinary length; but his nose being
138 PERVONTE,
exceedingly flat, shewed hardly any thing
but a pair of wide nostrils ; a short neck
seemed to sink between two very broad
shoulders ; and two short bandy legs sup-
ported the beautiful structure. With such
a sort of figure, he was yet one of those
strange beings vrho seldom fail meeting with
extraordinary turns of good luck : for for-
tune, whatever reason you and I may have
to complain of her, is generally equitable
in taking particular care of mortals of this
oast, by making amends for the niggardness
of nature. Pervonte (this was the name of
our hero) was son and heir to a good wo^
man, who for many years past had earned
a scanty subsistence for herself and her son
by spinning. Contented with her humble
lot, she worked very hard, and knew scarce
any other pastime but the music of her
wheel. She thought herself sutiiciently
happy, when she saw, at noon, her little pot
of broth on the fire, and when she had fuel
enough to keep the winter^s cold out of her
cottage. Her only cause of grief was, the
impossibility to make any thing of her son,
whose stupidity baflrled every attempt of his
mother to teach him any useful occupation.
There appeared no marks of curiosity, fan-
cy, or reflection, in him ; he did not take
to any work, and spent the whole day
stretched laxily on a couch of straw near
OR THE WISHES. 139
tlie fire-side; his eyes were usually half
shut, and he amused himself v^'ith sucking
his short fingers. Whenever his mother
attempted to rouse him, he complained of
pains in his limbs; yet now and then he
would, with many a groan, carry a few logs
of wood into the kitchen ; or, he would, at
his mother's repealed request, drive, very
calmly, the geese out of the garden, where
they eat up the cabbage. This was all the
good woman's rhetoric was able to obtain
from him. Otherwise, he vvai a very harm-r
less creature, undisturbed with the desire of
prying into other's secrets, far from being
quarrelsome, and interested in only one
single concern, that of satisfying, no matter
with what sort of food, the cravings of his
stomach. He perfectly resembled that great
philosopher in Horace, who, careless for
what purpose the gods have created this
beautiful universe, sees, without alteration,
the sun and moon dart their bright rays on
distant worlds; and who, wrapt up closely
and warmly in the cloak of dullness and a-
pathy, has neither the heart to love or to
hate, nor the sense to blame or to approve.
On that morning, when Pervonte attracts
our notice, his mother happened to have no
fuel in her cottage. Her indolent son sat,
with his usual tranquillity, eating, with
creat satisfaction, a large luncheon of bread
M'4
140
for his breakfast : ' Pervonte,' said his mo-
ther, ' be for once good for something ;
thou seest this pot will never boil without
fire ; get up, my boy, take thy hat, and a-
way to the forest ; the storm has beat down
a great many branches last night; thou wilt
have easy work to-day ; go, and bring me
a large bundle of faggots.' Pervonte liap-
pened to be in a good humour ; he accord-
ingly gave himself the rousing shake, and
sauntered towards the wood. He stop-
ped more than once to gaze about, as if he
had never been there before, and seemed to
be surprised that there were so many trees
in the forest. At length he fell to work,
and got a tolerable bundle of faggots to-
gether. When he had done, he made a
long pause, to rest himself. ' What a fine
thing it would be now,' thought he, * if
somebody were to carry this burden home
to my mother !' However, nobody came to
do him this good office, and he was obliged
to lift the bundle on his own broad shoul-
ders, and to walk off with it. He had just
cleared the bushes, and came into the open
field, when the sun began to be very power-
ful. He stopt again ; and, as he happened
to cast his eyes about, he saw three women
asleep, lying on the grass, expf 'sed to the
heat of the sun-beams : they were young,
and exceedingly beautiful. Pervonte went
OR THE WISHES. 141
near, examined them with great attention,
§hut his little eyes for pleasure, and gazed
again. I'he magic of beauty soon huma-
nises even the most unfeeling brute. ' What
a pity,' said Pervonte to himself, ' that these
comely young creatures should lie in the
heat of the sun, without any shelter ! The
bushes are not far off: what if 1 went back
and cut some boughs to serve them for a
screen .''' He executed this resolution imme-
diately. He cut off six branches, fixed them
in the ground as well as he could, and drew
a green umbrella about the sleeping beau-
ties. To render the shelter more complete,
he spread his jacket on the top of the boughs. *
No work had ever prospered more in
Pervonte's hamis than the present. Pleas-
ed with his ov. n dexterity, he burst out in-
to a loud horse laugh, so loud indeed, as to
wake the beautiful nymphs from their slum-
ber. ' Art thou the kind mortal,' said one
of them to Pervonte, ' who made us this
shelter ?' Pervonte, however inwardly gra-
tified by this question, did not answer a
single word, but grinned graciously at the
ladies, twirling his old hut about his thumb,
in the same manner as a wheel turns about
its axle. ' Thy good-nature shall not go
unrewarded,"' continued the lady, ' know,
Pervonte, we are fairies ; and though there
are people who find fault with us, thou sbalt
M3
142
be convinced that, at least, we do not want
gratitude. Ask whatever boon tliou wilt,
thy request shall be immediately granted.''
At these words the fairies disappeared,
Pervonte kept his eyes still rivetted on the
deserted spot ; and when he was at length
convinced they were gone, he cried — ' Fine
ladies, I warrant ye ! What sweet words
and looks they gave me ? T thought I should
have had a bag full of gold and silver ; and
now, after all, their promises turn out to be
no more than air!' Honest Pervonte now
returned to his faggots, lifted up his burden
with great reluctance, and at length placed
it on his shoulders. He was very sensible
of its weight : ' How hard it is,' cried he,
* that I should take the trouble to carry
these faggots ! would to God they would
carry me !' The word had no sooner escap-
ed his lips, when, on a sudden, an animal
life seemed to penetrate the wood ; the
bundle slipped gently between his legs, and
making a seat softer tlian a cushion, lifted
him up from the ground, and ran away as
the best horse could have carried him,
' Bravo V cries Pervonte, ' you fairies are
as good as your word : I said it in joke, and
you take it in good earnest; but if yon will
have it so, I have no objection. — So go on,
my horse, the straight way to my mother's.'
'j'he shortest way went through the city,
OR THE WISHES. 143
close by the palace. Imagine to yourselves
the noise and laughter such a singular piece
of horsemanship occasioned in the streets !
At every step, the throng, the astonishment,
and the shouts of the populace, increased.
Pervonte, perfectly at his ease in the midst
of all this bustle, rode on with great uncon-
cern : the bundle, when the people crowded
too much on the rider, dealt out hearty
blows to the right and to the left, and clear-
ed its way through every obstacle. When
our hero arrived at the square before the
palace, the princess and her ladies opened
the windows, to look at the strange rider ;
but as her highness happened to be in a
perverse humour that morning, the general
mirth gave her the spleen. ' Nonsense !' she
cried, ' to make such a noise about that
ugly monster : the horse is wretched enough
in conscience, yet a thousand times too good
for the moon-calf that rides on it."* Un-
luckily for the princess, Pervonte was just
passing under the window as she spoke.
Though his other senses were far from be-
ing acute, he had a pair of large and quick
ears, which did not lose a syllable of the
compliment her Royal Highness paid his
person. He was nettled at her contempt.
' So, my proud lady," said he to himself,
' you call me a monster ! a moon-calf ! if I
was even ten times uglier, I could wish you
144 PERVONTE,
might have a couple of twins by me, and be
turned out of doors to beg your bread ; and
then, it is ten to one, we should see you ca-
ress and tlatter me as much as you scorn
me now."*
With these words Pervonte galloped a-
way ; and in a few minutes he lost sight of
the city, forgot his anger, and arrived safe-
ly at the cottage, to the great consternation
of his good mother. This good woman
asked him a thousand questions concerning
his strange expedition ; but her ingenuous
son had but little to say about it ; he told
his mother nothing but incoherent nonsense,
and so entangled himself in bundles, bushes,
and princesses, that he tould not find the
cue of the labyrinth. His mothers patience
was at length tirtd : she left ufi'questionmg,
and he blundering, and the accident was
soon entirely forgot. Pervonte remained
exactly what he had been ; he contmued to
vegetate without thought or care ; he had
still no other desire, but that of eating and
lolling on his couch. By this manner of
living he got very heallhv blood, preserved
an excellent digestion, aad no trouble or
vexation mterrupttd his tranquillity.
But, alas ! iae case was very different
with the princess. Four months had scarce
elapsed since the wooden trot of Pervonte,
when the taylor of her Highness received
•R THE WISHES. 145
secret orders to enlarge the measure of her
petticoats. It is true, she was still equally
cruel to her admirers ; none of them could
boast of the slightest favour from her ; yet,
in spite of her prudery, her shape acquired
every day a more visible rotundity. In
short, at the end of nine months, this haugh-
ty beauty was brought to bed, in perfect
good health, of two girls. This surprising
event was ushered in by the severe com-
ments of all the matrons, and by very sig-
nificant shrugs of the courtiers. His ma-
jesty's rage, and the princess's shame, were
equally great; the latter took it very ill,
that the babies should bear witness against
her pure unsullied reputation. The young
lords gave themselves very important airs
on the occasion : each of them hinted, that
he had particular reasons to conceal his own
share in this event ; while, in secret, every
one cursed his entire innocence of the fact,
and endeavoured, with malicious curiosity,
to find out the favoured culprit. To com-
plete the picture of what passed at court,
and in the city, figure to yourselves the
profound silence which reigned in the anti-
chamber, the eloquent nods, the whispers
behind the fan, the indignant ejaculations
of the grave citizen ladies, the fear of all
the young prudes to be visited with a simi-
lar dropsy, the ingenious jests of the wits,
146
and the deep researches of the learned aca-
demicans. These gentlemen succeeded, in-
deed, in proving, in a series of dissertations,
that the reality of this strange phenomenon
implied its possibility. They accounted for
the fact, by suggesting, that her Royal
Highness must have picked up by chance a
couple of ready-prepared atoms floating in
the air, and conveyed to her by a Zephyr,
which, by a gradual evolution, had at length
acquired such a state of maturity, as to as^
sume the size and the form of the very pret-
ty daughters of which the princess had been
lately delivered. The light so plentifully
diffused over this intricate subject was,
however, not quite satisfactory to the King,
whose anger continued unabated ; and who
was too strongly prejudiced in favour of the
vulgar theory of human propagation, to be
convinced by the system of his philosophers.
He pursued his enquiries a different way,
but without success. The Princess, who
was at least as much concerned in the affair,
and might have been supposed to have had
the best information, made oath, that she
could not account for what had happened ;
and it was necessary to acquiesce, for the
present, in this declaration.
In the meanwhile, the twins, begot by a
mere wish, grew up. They were exceed-
ingly handsome; and, mioht, perhaps, in
OR THE WISHES. 147
due time, have turned out very amiable, had
there been no nurses, governesses, and cham*
bermaids, at the court of Salernum. When
they were about six years old, the Lord
Chancellor, a man of great sagacity, hap-
pening to converse with the king on the
birth of his grand-daughters, bethought him-
self of a method to discover their father,
which he communicated with great confi-
dence to his royal master. ' Sire,' said the
learned lord, * I have read long ago, in a
school-book, I believe it is Terence, that
there is an innate instinct in children, by
the force of which they will discover their
true father among a whole legion of men ;
so great a classic author cannot be mistaken.
"We have nothing to do but to introduce all
the lords of the court to the young ladies,
and nature will soon point out their father.^
The king was much pleased with the doc-
trine of instinct, and resolved to try the ex-
periment without loss of time. He gave
orders that, on the next court-day, every
nobleman should not fail to attend, on pain
of liis majesty's heaviest displeasure. On
the appointed day, the beautiful tAvins were
seen, for the first time, in the drawing-room,
to the great surprise of the court ; but the
reason of their appearing in public Avas kept
a profound secret. AH the noblemen of Sa-
iernum were directed to pass in review^ be-
148 PERVONTE,
fore the children, but without effect ; not
the least trace of instinct manifested itself
in them. After the drawing-room was over,
the Chancellor, not at all disconcerted by
the failure of the experiment, maintained
to the King, that it was now certain that
none of these noblemen had the honour of
being the father to his grand-children ; but
that the truth of the doctrine of instinct
was not the least affected by this disappoint*
ment. * What if your majesty,' continued
he, ' should condescend to give a ball to the
citizens ; perhaps — ' ' You don't mean to
insinuate,* interrupted the king in a passion,
* that a citizen should be the author of my
disgrace ? No, it is impossible my daughter
should have degraded herself so low !' — * I
humbly beg your majesty's pardon,' replied
the chancellor ; « to be sure, it is very im-
probable ; yet we must allow, that much
stranger things than this have happened.
" Opportunity makes thieves," says the pro-
verb. " The sex is frail, and love is blind,"
says my friend Terence. — * There your
friend is in the right,' said the King. ' Well,
then, you shall have your will ; a ball shall
be given to the citizens, and 1 myself will
dance with some of these city-beauties.
They have often fine eyes, and fresh com-
plexions ; and a stomach relaxed by dain-
ties longs sometimes for less refined dishes."
OR THE WISHES. 149
/4'his unexpected invitation to a ball at
court, brouglit together whatever belonged
to the city beaumonde. The king had his
dance ; but tlie secret purpose of this festi-
val was again defeated. The two sister
graces, superbly di essed, and sparkling w^itli
lace and jewels, were very conspicuous in
the crowd ; but mother Nature never spoke
a syllable to their tender souls in favour of
any city relation. « Now, Sire/ said the
positive chancellor, * there remains yet a
third experiment to clear up this mysterious
affair; a general entertainment to all rapks
and conditions.' — * With all my heart,* repli-
ed the king; ' only take care that my honest
subjects may have plenty of victuals and
sport.' The festival was immediately pro-
claimed by the sound of trumpets ; proyi-
sior.s were brought together by numberless
waggons ; an enormous pile of turkeys,
fowls, rabbits, pheasants, venison, and pud-
dings, was raised in a public place, for which
the populace were to scramble on the great
day of the feast. This important day, ex-
pected with the utmost imj)atience by all
ranks and ages, at length came on. Before
sun-rise, every individual at Sahrnum was
in motion ; the sound of drums and trum •
pets, mingled with the joyful shouts of the
populace ; the windows which surrounded
the square were filled with the busts of tlje
N
150 PERVONTK,
fine ladies ; and the people crowded towards
the square from every street of the toAvn.
A thousand eager eyes were fixed on the
pyramid of eatables, and marked out their
hoped-for prey : they could scarcely refrain
from pillage, till the signal for the general
attack should be given.
Pervonte's mother, who could not remain
ignorant of the general agitation, said to her
son — ' Why dost not thou go too, my boy ?
Thou canst not fail of getting, at least, a
hsLvn or a fowl in the scramble : run thither,
and make v/hat haste thou canst.' The hope
of such a reward made Pervonte obey with
uncommon alacrity ; and he set out from
his mother's at a moderate gallop, a thing
which he was never known to do before.
In the mean while, the court, who on this
occasion (probably to enhance the pleasure
their appearance was to give) suffered the
good people to wait very long for their com-
ing, had at length taken their places on an
amphitheatre built for that purpose. Every
body was charmed to see the pretty chil-
dren, wearing fine caps in the newest fashion,
sit near the foot of the large pyramid. Two
long rows of youths and handsome girls
were already formed, in order to begin a
grand dance ; when our clown, conspicuous
by the burning red ot his hair, arrived in
the midst of tlte crowd ; and, wonderful to
ok THE WISHES. 151
tell ! the children no sooner perceived liini
making up to the pile, dirty as he was, in a
ragged jacket, witii uncombed hair, and
without shoes, than thej ran eagerly toward*?
liini with open arms, and every mark of fi-
lial affection. The spectators were lost in
amazement. ' VV'as 1 not in the right now?'
said the lord chancellor to the king : ' is
not now my doctrine of instinct clearly
proved ?' — ' Cursed instinct !' cried the
king, in a violent rage : * Must I live to
suffer such a disgrace ? Must I have grand-
children begotten by such an ugly wretch ?
Tortures and death cannot suUiciently pu-
nish such a vile profanation of majesty !"*
The unfortunate princess, not conscious of
any guilt, begged hard to be heard ; but
her father threatened her with instant death,
if she dared to utter a word in her defence.
Luckily for her, he cast his eyes on a large
cask which stood near the pile, filled, accord-
ing to custom, with very indillerent wine,
destined to rejoice the hearts of his majesty's
loyal subjects. The king ordered the bot-
tom to be knocked out, and sentenced the
delinquents to be jiut into this cask, and
to be thrown into the sea. 'I'he merciless
command was immediately put in execution.
The crying children, the hmocent princess,
and honest Pervonte, who was now no long-
er doubted to be the happv lover, were
N 2
152 PERVONTE,
crammed up in this dismal place of confine-
ment, and abandoned to the mercy of the
waves.
Imagine now to yourselves, our Yastola,
a princess, and a first-rate beauty, degraded
at once from the hidiest eminence of (jran-
deiir and admiration, abandoned to the rage
of the angry ocean, in a moist cask, with
twins she cannot acknowledge, and for whom
she yet feels all the tenderness of a mother ;
and, what aggravated the distress, and might
have also tempted her to become another
Medea, confined with such a paramour !
and this charming companion, this Adonis,
with the figure and the elegance of a mule-
teer, publicly declared the father of her
daughters ! It must be owned, the situation
was novel and insupportable ; especially if
you consider, that the space which contain-
ed the princess, the clown, and the two chil-
dren, was so narrow, that, by every motion
of the waves, their legs and arms were un-
avoidably more and more entangled : his
nose often touched the thin gauze which
covered her graceful neck ; and frequently
half an inch was the whole interval between
her delicate lips and his immense mouth.
All these sufferings, put together, would
have been too much for the haughtiest of
her sex ; but, in a scene of complicated dis-
tress, which would have driven vulgar minds
OR THE WISHES. 1 53
\o despair, the high spirit of Vastola display-
ed all the magnanimity of her princely na-
ture. By the silent scorn, with which her
looks annihilated Pervonte, she shewed that
her misfortunes only raised her soul higlier.
* How unjust is the suspicion,' she exclaim-
ed at length, in the bitterness of indigna-
tion, that I should owe my daughters to the
embrace of such a wretch V' — ' Faith,'' re-
plied Pervonte, very rjuietly, ' you may be
sure that I doh't like this joke a bit better
than yourself, to be locked up with you, and
to dance on the w aves in this moist cask !
You think, perhaps, it is a vast j)leasure to
me to j)ass for the father of your little bas-
tards there ; you know, probably, much
better than I, how you came by them.' —
* How should I have had them by thee,'
answered the princess, ' who never saw thee
in all my life-time ?' — ' As to that, Madam
Vastola, you might pay a little more regard
to truth.' — ' Alas ! now I think of it, sure-
ly I recollect thee by thy burning red hair
and thy vast mouth : art thou not the fel-
low, who, about seven years ago, rode on a
bundle of sticks over the square before our
palace r' — ' The very same ; I remember
that ride as well as if it had happened but
yesterday : I can't forget how you tossed
up your nose, and called me pretty names,
such as monster ! and moon-calf ! J own it
N 3
154 PERVONTE)
vexed me ; and I wished, saving your wor-
ship's presence, you might be with twins by
me, in order to see wiiether you would then
treat me still so haughtily. I meant it on-
ly for a joke; you know best how you made
earnest of it, but that about that time the
fairies had promised me to fulfil all my
wishes.' — ' How !' cried the princess, ' hadst
thou ever such a gift from the fairies ?' —
' To be sure I had ; my riding on a bundle
of faggots was owing to them.' — -' Perhaps
thou art still in possession of this gift .'^—
' Not that I know of.' — * And hast thou
never tried it ?' — ' There was no occasion
for my trying it ; there was always broth
enough in my mother's pot, and Avood e-
nough to boil it ; what else could I have
wished for ?' — ' What a philosopher have
we got here !' cried Vastola ; * I see that
stupidity, as well as necessity, can form a
cynic : but, I hope, friend, that now, when
every wave threatens us with unavoidable
death, you will have the good sense to try
w^hither the fairies have still a mind to ful-
fil your wishes ; you cannot but see, that
the assistance of the fairies could not come
in better time.' — * Why should I g\vt my-
self the trouble of wishing,' said Pervonte,
* perhaps for your sake ? You have called
me monster, silly fellow, and philosopher :
flow it seems you have found out, forsooth.
OR THE WISHES. 155
Uiiit I am good enough for wishing." — ■
' What, my good friend, are you in your
senses ? I meant no offence : pray, good
Sir, let me intrcat you to make the trial.' —
So, Madam, now you are in distress, you
can give me fair words — I thought it would
come to this ; but let me tell you, sweet-
heart, that Pervonte can be as obstinate
as any of you ; my mother's son shall not
surrender to you for less tliati a good hear-
ty kiss."
The hand of fate pressed hard On poor
Vastola ; however distressing the choice be-
tween two evils may be in other cases, here
was no alternative. Notwithstanding the
opposition of her heart and her stomach,
she saw she must comply, and thanked
Heaven that the fellow did not ask a much
greater favour. Vv'hat would she not have
done, rather than be devoured by sharks
and lobsters "<! In short, as there was no o-
ther expedient to escape from imminent
deatli, she kept her breath in, shut her eyes,
and gave him the kiss she could not refuse.
* One more,' cried Pervonte, ' and then you
may let me know what I shall wish for, be-
fore the leaky cask fills with water.' — ' That
the cask may be changed into a beautiful
vessel, well provided with stores, manned
with twenty stout sailors, and a pilot to
5teer it ton-ard- th?^ shore of Oajar.' Per-
156 PERVONTE,
vonte, who did not trust to his facidties^
desired her to repeat tlie words again, and
he spoke every syllable after her. While
he was yet speaking, the cask was convert-
ed into the most elegant bark the sun ever
shone upon, since the river Cydnus beheld
Cleopatra, beaming with unequalled beau-
ty, glide down his current in her galley,
when she intended to meet the great An-
thony. Vestola thought her eyes deceived
her, when she saw the silk streamers flut-
tering in the air like the wings of zephers ;
when she sawthesilver oars, the purple sails,
the golden ma^ts adorned with garlands of
flowers ; the sailors, dressed as for a dance,
resembling animated pictures, who, without
stopping, and in profound silence, plied the
oars in harmonious cadence. In short,
everything was in sucli a stile of perfection
as might be expected from the workmanship
of the fairies. Tlie princess, who now saw
realized what seemed to her a dream, began
to consider Pervonte as a being of more im-
portance than she had thought him before,
and than he really was: but our hero re-
mained as silly as before this metamorpho-
sis ; nor did he think higher of himself, on
account of a faculty whicli sat as aukwardly
on him, as the talent of preaching on the
ass of Balaam. The in'.penetrable shield,
which effectually secured Iiini against the
OR THE WISHES. 157
sting of ciuiosity, and against the attack of
every doubt, was liis implicit belief in the
famous truth, that " things are what they
are'' — ' The sliip exists,"* said he ; and as it
exists, I cannot doubt of its existence.' A
sceptic would have suggested that it only
seemed to exist ; but Pervonte, who belong-
ed to no set of philosophers, convinced him-
self, with eagerness and perseverance, of the
reality of the eatables he found in the ship,
unconcerned about their possibility, and
satisfied that where there is good eating-
there is good living : while he, to whom
nothing existed but what he had under
his teeth, was rumaging the stores in the
cabin ; and while V'astola, who ceased
to enjoy as soon as she possessed, was
planning new wishes, the bark, impercepti-
bly, proceeded on her voyage with the fair-
est wind and weather, doubled a cape, and
made land that very evening, on the most
beautiful shore in the universe. Illumined
by the rays of the setting sun, this shore
seemed to be the favourite residence of the
vernal deities ; a landscape created by en-
chantment, and a thousand times more de-
lightful than the romantic scenes of Tinian
and Juan Fernandez. On a nearer view,
this spot seemed to be a solitary valley, en-
closed by gently sloping hills, and inter-
spersed with woods, from whence silver ri-
vulets, bordered with roses^ rolled their
158 PERVONTE,
meandering waters ; and where choruses
of nightingales sung undisturbed their sweet-
est notes to the fragrant grove. * Let us
land on this heavenly shore,' said Vastola to
Pervonte ; ' but, to live comfortably here,
iny good friend, we must trouble the fairies
with another wish/ — ' I understand you,'
cries Pervonte ! ' faith, nothiiig is more in
time now than a new wish : what if I was
to wish that these green branches might be
hung with joints of roast meat and pud-
dings ?' — ' Peace, you idiot !' said Vastola,
reddening ; ' must I ever blush for you P
Before the fairies take a present from thee,
of which thou so little knowest the use,
resign the wishing to me, and be contented
to speak my words after me. Let the ship
be changed into the most beautiful palace
human eyes ever l>eheld ; let it be furnished
with magnificence and elegance ; let the
cielings and pillars he adorned with exqui-
site sculpture ; let the walls be hung with
the most costly tapestry, richly gilt ; let
there be the finest pictures, busts, statues,
relievos, Etruscan vases, services of china
and plate ; in short, let there be every thing
belonging to the furniture of a royal palace:
and as it costs us only the trouble of wish-
ing, let the palace be surrounded with deli-
cious pleasure-grounds, in v/hich blooming
spring and living verdure reign for ever ;
Oil THE WISHES. 159
let them exhale an atmosphere of the sweet-
est perfumes ; iii the most retired recesses
of a grove, let there be a marble bath, hand-
some enougli to invite Venus herself to take
a jxlunge ; let a lake, frequented by charm-
in«; swans, spread itself over a part of the
valley ; let a crystal river, full of the finest
fishes, wind gently through flowery mea-
dows ; let there be a farm, a poultry-yard,
flocks, and catile, and pretty shepherds and
shepherdesses to take care of them ; let me
have a number of female attendants, as
handsome as Leda's daughters, genteel
pages, and servants ; let ' 'Hold, hold^
Vastola,"* interrupted Pervonte, ' how can
the fairies remember so many things?" But
before Tervonte iiad spoken the last words,
a magic palace rose before his eyes, on which
the fairies exhausted all their art. The
princess herself stood motionless, dazzled
with the splendour of the magnificent fabric
The palace of her father, compared with
this mansion, dwindled into a mean cottage.
Pervonte gazed at the palace with the wid-
est mouth ihat ever was opened. Vastola.
leading her lovely daughters by the hand,
entered the door in secret raptures. On
the stair-case she was welcomed by the har-
mony of the most deliglitful music. Per-
vonte found, among all the presents of the
fairies, not a more substantial one than a
160
table covered for four persons, and loaded
with the most exquisite dainties. They sat
down to it : Pervonte did ample justice to
the entertainment, and seemed quite giddy
with the meridian splendour which beamed
forth from an hundred lustres hung up in a
long suite of apartments. Sometimes he
burst out in a loud laugh of joy ; roared his
thanks to the fairies, and toasted them in
many a bumper. His spirits rose to such a
pitch, that, at the dessert, he began to grow
very familiar with the princess ; who, being
afraid of the too expressive tenderness of
his rough hands, was obliged to draw her
€hair by degrees to the farthest corner of
the table ; it was now high time for Vastola
to own to herself, what, in spite of her
pride, she could not help perceiving, the ca-
tastrophe of the drama was drawing near.
Disgusting as Pervonte was, with his big
round head, his burning hair, and his clum-
sy figure, yet what could she do.^ The twins,
the cask, and the palace, had unalterably
decided her destiny : nothing remained now
but the alternative of living like a vestal, or
of taking Pervonte for her husband. It is
true, a fortune such as he had to offer faci-
litated the choice; yet, on the other side, was
such a vulgar, ilUshapen fellow, to be the
husband of the delicate and accomplished
Princess Vastola ? It could not be, it was
OR THE WISHES. 161
yoking an owl with a swan to draw" the car
gf Venus. ' Pervonte,"' said the princess,
after some uneasy thoughts, ' your fairies
have been very bountiful to you ; yet some-
thing, my good friend, is still wanting. You
have, j)robal)Iy, never seen your own figure
in a looking-gla^s ; pray, examine it a little,
and be candid enough to own. that if it was
changed from head to foot, you could not
possibly be a loser by any metamorphosis.'
— ' What,' cries Pervonte, ' my figure to
be changed ! and for what purpose?' — ' To
be handsome."' — ' Handsome ! why, sweet-
heart, I would not stir a finger to become
handsome. I was always very well satisfied
with my figure ; however, if it gives you
jileasure, may I be ironi head to foot exact-
ly as you wish me to be.' — ' I do not wish
thee too handsome neither,' thought Vasto-
h to herself; ' mayest thou be somewhat
of an Adonis, but yet strong as Milio ; a
little taller than myself; in short, less deli-
cate than manly, and thou wilt be handiome
enough inr me.' Let us observe here, that
Vastola did not think, much less speak open-
iv, in this manner ; it was only a half-rising
thought, which scarcely ventured out of tlie
inmost recesses of her heart. \\'hat was her
surprize, when she saw Pervonte standing
before her, completely and exactly bodied
forth as her fancy had cut out his shape '
O
162 PERVONTE,
It was a finished form, in which the charms
of Antinous strove for pre-eminence with
the strength of Hercules. Vastola scream-
ed aloud, when she found herself taken at
her word by the fairies, who had read in
her breast a wish which she scarcely dared
avow to herself. She blushed most immo-
derately down to her neck, and looked about
in confusion and half-pleasing uneasiness.
She would have given all the world to have
played the prude a little longer, if it had
not been for the fear of being guilty of the
Jieinous sin of ingratitude. The best thing
she could do was, to accept the charming
husband in silence, and not to be ashamed
of the bounty of the gods.
\Ye wiil candidly confess, (provided our
openness does not injure her reputation)
that the young lady seemed rather to go too
far in her gratitude. For three whole days,
and we fear three nights too, every thought,
and every moment of her time, was entire-
ly devoted to her Cory don. She led him,
with the eagerness of a child thai had got
a new doll, from one delightful spot in their
new dominions to the other. Every wliere
you saw the loving pair, arm in arm, walk-
ing through the green meadows, or sitting
in shaded bowers, or reppsing on the soft
grass, counting the minutes only by their
kisses, sufficient to each other's happiness,
and forgetting the whole around them.
OR THE WISHES. 163
Pervoiitc, now called Prince Pervonte,
iiad continued, througlnAit ail t!icse revolu-
tions, as great a blockhead as at his mother's
cottage. There is reason to beHeve, how-
ever, that his manner of loving was not
tlie worse for this deficiency: it seemed im-
possible that he could, with the most refined
wit, have enteitained iii.^ bride more to her
satisfaction than he had done hitherto. It
is certain, that Vastola never once observed
his want of understanding, till a whole week
of their marriage had elapsed. At length,
however, the arrows of Cupid were shot a-
way. An Hercules, obliged to rest, loses
the greatest part of its value ; and an Ado-
nis, who can shew nothing but an unmean-
ing face and a set of fine teeth, is but an
indifferent substitute. The princess now
perceived where the fault lay* ' I think,"*
said she to her husband, ' it is high time
for you to beg a present of the fairies which
you are greatly in want of.' — ' And what
can this present be ?' said Pervonte. ' It is
sense,' replied V^astola ; ' a little more brains
would vastly well become so beautiful a
forehead.' — ' A very useless wish," exclaim-
ed Pervonte ; ' yet why sliould I ask for
more.'' had I not always en()u;;h to find out
my mouth, and ' ' Peace,' cried Vasto-
la, and stopt his mouth for fear of hearing
more nonsense ; ' believe me, understand-
2
164 PERVONTE,
ing is a most valuable co!iiniodit}% and by
no means burdensome; the more you have
of it, the more easily you will bear it/ —
' Well, then, I will be advised : tell me
only what 1 must ask for/ — * xAsk only for
sense: this one word is sufficient/ — * Ye
fairies,* ciied Pervonte, ' grant me sense ;
and let it be good sense,' added he, ' for e-
very thing that glitters is not gold/ You
see, the fairies had heard him at the first
word : indeed, they had bestowed on him
a larger portion of understanding than was
perhaps agreeable to Vastola* ' Madam^^
said Pervonte to her, ' let us now have done
w4th wishes. The bounty of the fairies to
us has been very great ; to importune them
for more presents, would be covetous and
ungrateful. We want nothing but content,
a blessing which is entirely in our own gift.
Let us now endeavour to deserve what we
possess, by the manner of our enjoying it.
Let us love each other, dear princess, and
let us bless every feeling being about us
with a share of our own happiness : what
else can we wish for ? or what else can the
partiality of the fairies bestow r'
THE VIZIEirS DAUGHTER.
The kin;:^dom of Cacheinire was formerly
governed by a prince named Aladdin. He
was blessed with a daughterj who would
have been acknowledged the most perfect
beauty in the East, if the vizier's daughteF
had not disjnited the prize with lier. No-
thing engrossed the conversation of the East,
but the extraordinary charms of these prin-
cesses. Many sovereigns, upon the credit
of report, longed for their alliance, and were
ready to demand them in marriage.
It was difficult to determine whicli of
these beauties was most accomplished. Yet,
whether it was owing to partiality, or the
manners of the vizier's daughter, which
were much bolder than those of her rival,
she had engrossed the public esteem in her
favour, and was honoured with the prefe-
rence.
The king's dauglUer was so immoderate-
ly chagrined at the preference paid Ghul-
naz, for that was the name of the vizier's
daughter, that she fell into a profound me-
O 3
166 THE vizier's daughter.
lancholy, which threatened her life. Her
father, alarmed at her danger, applied to his
physicians, who assured him, that the prin-
cess's illness was owing to some secret un-
easiness.
The king w^as very importunate with his
daughter to unbosom herself to him ; and
to prevail on her, assured her, with a so-
lemn oath, that he would grant her every
thing she would ask, were it half of his
kingdom. The daughter of Aladdin, in-
stead of disclosing the jealousy with v.-hich
she was tortured to another, would, if pos-
.sible, haje hid it from herself. But melted
with the tender caresses of her father, and
the concern which he testified on her ac-
count, she could not refuse him any longer ;
but confessed to him, that Ghulnaz was the
cause of her disorder, which would admit of
no relief, till her rival was removed at some
distance from her.
Aladdin endeavoured all he could to com-
fort his daughter, and assured her, it should
not be long before she was rid of the object
of her uneasiness.
In consecpience of his promise, Aladdin
sent for his vizier, and told him, ' That it
was with some reluctance, that he insisted
upon his selling his daughter; because he
knew how much such a proposal must af-
flict jjim.— But,' added he, my daughter's
THE VIZIER'S DAUGHTER. 167
life depends on it. I need not add any
more, and I exnect tliis sacrifice, as a mark
of tlie attachment you have always professed
for me."*
The vizier was shocked at the proposal,
and was for sop.ie time divided between pa-
ternal love and duty to his prince. The
latter, at lenj^th, got the ascendency, and
stifled the voice of nature. Some remains
of affection prevented a public sale. For
which purpose, lie inclosed her in a coffer,
and sendmg for the crier, said, * You must
wsell this cufTer for forty thousand aspers^
with this coniiilion, that the purchaser shall
not be permilted to see what it contains,
before he buys it.*
The crier endeavoured to execute the vi-
zier's commission, in vain : the condition
he exacted drove away all the buyers. A
young fellow, who was a water-carrier,
more venturesome than the rest, suspected
that there was something mysterious in the
affair, and resolved to run the risk ; he bor-
rowed the purchase-money of a merchant
with whom he was acquainted, and, after
paying it to the crier, carried the coffer
home.
His surprise could be equalled by notliing
but the joy he felt, when, opening the coffer
in haste, he found in it a young lady of in-
expressible beauty. ' Charnnng Hotiri/
168 THE vizier's DAUGHTER.
said be, ' for thou art certainly one of those
celestial njmphs, which are formed for the
pleasure of the elect in the next world, by
what strange adventure bast thou been in-
closed in this coffer ?'
The vizier's daughter, being unwilling
to discover who she was, replied, ' Thou
seest an unhappy creature, who is the sport
of misfortune. Fate has made me thy slave,
and thou shalt find in me all the submission
and fidelity, that are due to thee.""
The amiable Ghulnaz was too charming
to be beheld with insensibility. Her pos-
sessor perceived this. For though she was
his slave, and he could dispose of her in
whatever manner he pleased ; yet, in his a-
mours, he had a delicacy far above those of
his rank. His happiness, if it should pro-
ceed from compulsion, would have appeared
defective to him, and he v/as therefore desi-
rous of owing it entirely to love.
He formed a resolution, therefore, of giv-
ing Ghulnaz her liberty, and to unite him-
self to her afterwards in bonds of matrimo-
FiV. But before he put this design in exe-
cution, he was willing to try, whether she
was v^'orthy of the fate for which he design-
ed her.
He conducted her to his mother's, at a
little village about a day's journey from
Cachemire. * Mother,' savs he to her in
THE Vizier's daughter. 169
private, * I have some intention of marry-
ing this young slave, whom I conimit to
your care. Have a watchful eye on her be-
haviour, and try whether her understanding
is equal to her beauty/' He immediately
took leave of his mother and Giudnaz, pro-
mising that he would soon see them again.
The beautiful slave soon gained the af-
fection of her patron's mother, — vyho was
enchanted with her sweetness and complai-
sance ; and in a short time she was dear to
her as her own datjghter. The good avo-
man, though she had long endured the hard-
ships of poverty, had supported them with
patience ; but after she was united to Ghul-
naz, she was concerned to see her a partner
in her miseries, and, for the first time, wish-
ed to be rich — but with no other vie^v, than
that of putting her into a condition more
worthy of her virtues.
This amiable fair one, on her side, being
affected with the 'distress of one who had
shown her so much kindness, was employ-
ed in finding out some expedient to alford
her comfort. She put into her hands a dia-
mond, which she had concealed, when her
cruel parent confnied her in tl.e coffer, and
desired her to sell it for tvvo thousand se-
quins. i\s the diamond was of the first v»'a-
ter, the old woman soon met with a pur-
chaser, and returned in raptures to Ghulna^.
whom she stiled her dearest dau<ihter.
170 THE vizier's DAUGHTER*
Ghulnaz hired a house, and furnished it
very elegantly. She was now beginning to
comfort herself in her misfortunes, and to
be resigned to her lot, when new troubles
j'endered her a greater object of pity than
she had yet been. Though she lived a very
retired life, and very seldom went abroad,
and even then not without her veil ; yet,
the fame of her beauty was spread abroad
through the place in which she lived. A
young man was enamoured with it, and had
the boldness to declare his passion to her.
His rashness not meeting with that success
which he expected^ his love was converted
into rage, and he was resolved to be aveng-
ed of one who treated his love with disdain.
He set out for Cachemire, and having found
the water-carrier, ' I pity you," said he,
' for maintaining, with so much pains, a
wretch, who repays you with ingratitude ;
while you are sinking under the burthen of
fatigue, she is swimming in a criminal afflu-
ence, which she has procured by amorous
intrigues.'
The passions of the water-carrier being
thus inflamed, without enquiring into the
grounds of the information he had received,
he set out with a resolution of revenge.
The elegance of the house in which his mo-
ther lived, and the magnificence of the fur-
niture, conspired to confirm him in the o-
THE vizier's DAUGHTER. 171
pinion of his being abused. He entered.—
Ghulnaz, who had no suspicions, because
s!ie had nothing to reproach herself with,
was preparing to meet him ; but he pre-
vented her, by plunging the dagger he had
concealed untfcr his gown into lier bosom.
Seeing that she did not fall with the first
blow, he was preparing to give her a se-
cond, when Ghulnaz, in a fit of despair,
jumped out of the window.
A Jew passing by, and seeing a young
woman weltering in her blood, raised hei-
up, and carried her to his own house. In
the mean while, the water-carrier's mother,
who was in an adjoining apartment, ran in
on hearing Ghulnaz's shrieks. — She found
her son, with his eyes rolling with fury, and
the bloody dagger in his hand. ' VVhal
hast thou done, my son,' said she — * and
what has become of Ghulnaz .?' ' This
weapon,** replied he, * has just now avenged
me of a perlidious wretch, who has abused
me.' — * How nuich art thou mistaken !'
cried the old woman in all the agony of
woe; ' It will cost thee many a ilood oi'
tears ! Thou hast unjustly killed one oi
the most amiable, and most virtuous of wo-
men in the universe.' — She then informed
him of the generous manner in which Ghul-
naz had delivered her from distress.
At the rtvital of this circum.stance, the
172 THE VIZIER S DAUGHTER.
water-carrier gave himself up to the most
lively grief ; he ran down into tlie street,
hoping to find his dear Ghulnaz there. He
beheld the traces of her blood, with stream-
ing eyes, but slie was not to be found. He
ran through the whole city, without being
able to gain the least intelligence of the
place where she was gone to.
In this interval the Jew sent for a sur-
geon, who, after probing the wound of the
vizier^s daughter, assured him it was not
mortal. He was not mistaken, and GhuU
naz in a short time recovered her health,
together with her charms. The Jew could
not behold them without being sensible of
their efficacy, and declared his passion in
terms, which shewed that he would be o-,
beyed. Ghulnaz shuddered at the danger
to which she was exposed, Being watched
too narrowly to make her escape, she form-
ed the resolution of throwing herself into
the sea, which washed the walls of the house
in which the Jew lived ; esteeming the loss
of life nothing, providing she preserved her
honour. To put her design into execution,
it was necessary that her lover should be
absent : to procure wljich, she pretended to
comply with \iU wishes, on condition that
he should first bathe himself.
As soon as the Jew left the room, Ghul-
iias opened the window, and Hung berse'f
^XHE VIZIER'S DAUGHTER. 173
into the sea : three brothers, who were fish-
ing, near the place, saw her. As they were
good swimmers, they caught her by the
cloaths,and putting her into their boat, soon
landed on the banks of a meadow, on the
other side of the city.
The vizier's daughter, being recovered
by their assistance, saw hersejf again expos-
to a more terrible danger than she had es-
caped. — Her extraordinary beauty made an
impression on the three bnjthers ; they
(juarrelled who should have her They were
just coming to blows, when chj^nce conduct-
ed a young cavalier to the spot, whom they
\pitched upon as an arbitrator. ' Chance,
alone," said the young cavalier, after he had
been informed of the cause of their dispute,
' chance alone can decide your pretensions.
i will shoot three arrows to three different
places, and he who shall pick up one of the
arrows first, shall be possessor of this beau-
ty.' The proposal seemed so reasonable to
the fishermen, that they acquiesced in it
without the lea^;t reluctance. The cavalier
drew his bow, and shot three arrows three
different ways. The three brothers ran as
swift as lightning, in hopes of gaining the
prize. The cavalier, seeing them at a disr
tance, dismounted, lifting Ghulnaz into tlie
saddle, and setting spurs to his horse, went
Qff at full stretch to the neighbouring town.
174 THE vizier's daughter.
It was tlie fate of Ghulnaz to captivate
every one that beheld her. The cavalier
had no sooner set her upon the ground,
than he declared his passion. Ghulnaz, see^
iiig that she could not elude this danjier but
by artifice, heard his declaration without
the least traces of displeasure — She went
so far, as to feign herself won by it, and on-
ly conjured him to defer his happiness till
night. ' A thought,' says the vizier's daugh-
ter, ' has just now come into my head, which,
though somewhat ridiculous, may neverthe-
less contribute to mutual happiness. No
one knows me in this place ; lend me a suit
of your clothes. — You may make me pass
for a relation, who is returned from foreign
parts. As no one can suspect my sex, you
will be under no a])pr':'hension from rivals."
— AYhen she had dressed herself in them.
* I am going to convince you,*' said she, 'that
I am no disgrace to the sex which I have
assumed, and that few men can surpass me
in horsemanship.' As she was uttering this
speech, she vaulted into the saddle with
great agility, and made the horse perform
all his paces. While the cavalier was ad-
miring her address, she drew off from him
without his perceiving it, and clapping spurs
to her horse, she set out at full gallop, and
shot from the cavalier's sight like a flash of
lightning. The apprehension of being pur*
THE vizier's daughter. 175
Fuod, made her travel the rest of that day,
and all the night, without choosing any
particular way.
The first rays of the sun, which appear-
ed above the horizon, discovered a city to
Iier. In the utmost uncertainty where she
was, she turned towards the city. And how
great was her astonishment, when she saw
the inhabitants coming to meet her ! — ' Our
king died this night,' said they to her, ' and
he has left no heirs to succeed him to the
throne. Being apprehensive of a civil war,
he has ordered us, by his will, to raise the
first person wliom we shall meet with, on
opening the gates, to that honour."* Ghul-
naz received, with an air of majesty and af-
fability, tlie homage of her subjects, who
were far from suspecting her sex. She pas-
sed through the streets, amidst the acclama-
tions of the people, as she went to take pos-
session of the palace, the usual residence of
the sovereicriis belonging to that country.
When she had ascended the throne, she
applied herself wholly to the government of
her kingdom. She made choice of viziers,
who were no less illustrious for their inte-
grity than their abilities ; and she was more
than ordinarily solicitous to have justice
dispensed without partiality. Her subjects
admired the wisdom of her administration,
and blessed the destiny which had assigned
P 2
176 THE vizier's DAtJGHTERi
them a sovereic^n, more desirous of promot*
ini][ their happiness than his own.
After the fair Ghuhiaz had reigned some
time, she caitsed a magnificent fountain to
be made at the gate of the city. When it
was finished, she sat for het- picture ; but
without acquainting the painter with her
reason for so doingj she ordered him to diaw
her in the character of a queen The por-
trait was placed in the upper part of the
fountain. The spies, \vhich were placed a-
bout it, had orders to bring every one to
her, who should fetch a sigh, or give the
least signs of grief, on beholding the picture.
All this whiles the water-carrier had been
inconsolable for the loss of his dear slave ;
and searched many a city, iti hopes of tra-
cing her out. — He came to the fountain ; and
scarcely had he contemplated the features
of the dear objiect, which was always pre-
sent m his mind, than he fetched a deep
sigh. The soldiers seized him immediately,
and carried him before Gliulnaz, whom he
was not ahle to discover uiider the disguise
in which she then appeared. She ordered
him, in a menacing tone, to acquaint her
with the cause, that made him shed tears at
the sight of the picture which hung up at
the fountain. He related his misfortunes
to her, .vith the agonies of fear, and Ghul-
naz ordered him to be confined in prison.
THE vizier's daughter. 177
Some days afterwards, chance brought the
brothers, who were fishermen, to the same
fountain. They discovered, in the picture
which graced the place, the resemblance of
her whom they saved from drowning ; their
flame, which was not quite extinct, revived
at the sight, and they could not forbear
sighing. They were carried before Ghul-
naz ; who asked them the same question
she had asked the water-carrier, and com-
mitted them to ])rison iikewise. The cava-
lier, and the Jew, came likewise to the
fountain, and having shewn the same sensi-
bility, met with the same lot.
When all the parties were thus secured
together, the vizier's daughter ordered them
to be brought before her. ' If the person,
who is the cause of your sighs," said she,
with some emotion, * should now appear
before your eyes, would you know her a-
gain d"" She had scarcely pronounced these
words, when she tore her robe open, and
shewed herself to them in the dress of her
sex. They all prostrated themselves at her
feet, and begged pardon of her for the ex-
cesses they had been hurried into, by a pas-
sion too violent for restraint.
The vizier's daughter raised them up
with an air of complacency, and taking the
water-carrier by the hand, she placed him
upon the throne, and ordered him to be
P3
178 LITtLiE HUNCH-BACK.
cloathed in royal attire. Then, assembling
the great officers of the state, she related
her history to them, and begged them to
accept of her master for their king. She
married him a fe^v days after, and the nup-
tials were celebrated with a magnificence
worthy of their rank.
The Jew, the three fishermen, and the
cavalier, were sent home loaded with pre-
sents ; which, though considerable, did not
prevent them from envying the lot of the
water-carrier.
Little hunch-back.
There was in former times at Casgar, up-
on the utmost skirts of Tartai-y, a taylor
that had a handsome wife, whom he loved,
and was reciprocally loved by her. One
day as he sat at work, a little Hunch-back
man came and sat down at the shop-door,
and began to sing, and at the same time
played upon a tabor ; the taylor was pleas-
ed to hear him, and had a strong inclination
LITTLE iiUNCH-BACK. 179
merry. ' This little fellow/ said lie to her,
' will divert us ; in fine he invited him
in, and he readily accepted of the invitation ;
the taylor shut up his shop, and conducted
him home ; the taylor's wife covered the
table, they sat doWn to supper, and had ^
large dish of fish set before them ; but as
they eat heartily, unfortunately the crooked
man swallowed a large bone, of which he
died in a few minutes, notwithstanding all
that the taylor and his wife could do to pre-
vent it ; they were much alarmed at the ac-
cident, especially since it happened at their
house, and there was ground to fear that, if
the justiciary magistrates came to hear of
it, they would be punished as assassins.
However, the husband found an expedient
to get rid of the corpse ; lie remembered
there was a Jewish doctor that lived just
by, and he formed a project ; in the execu-
tion of which his wile and he took the corpse,
the one by the feet and the other by the
head, and carried it to the physician's house;
they knocked at tlie door, from which
ascended a steep paii- of stairs to his cham-
ber ; as soon as they had knocked, the
servant-maid came down without any light,
and opening the door asked what they want-
ed. Go up again, said the taylor, and tell
your master, we have brought him a man
that's vrrv had. and wants his advice.
160 LITTLE HUNCH-BACK.
" Here,** says he, putting a piece of money
into her hand, ' give l)im that before hand,
to convince hini that we do not wish him
to lose his labour.^ While the servant was
gone up to acquaint her master with the
wL'Icoine news, the taylor and his vvife nim-
bly conveyed the hunch-backed corpse to
the head of the stairSj and leaving it there
ran off.
In the meantime, the maid having told
the doctor that a man and woman staid for
him at the door, desiring he would come
down and look upon a patient they had
brought with them, and putting the money
she had received into his hand, the doctor
was transported with joy; being paid before
hand he thought it was a good patient, and
should not be neglected, therefore, without
staying for the light, he went to the stair-
head in such haste, that stumbling against
the corpse he forced it down to the stair-
foot.
At last the maid came with the light, and
he went down stairs with her ; but when he
saw that the stumbling-block he had kick-
ed down was a dead man, he was so terrifi-
ed that he invoked INIoses, Aaron, Joshua,
Esdras, and all the other prophets. ' Un-
happy man that I am,' said he, ' why did I
offer to come down without a light ! I have
dispatched the man that was brought to me
LITTLE HUx\CH-BACK. 181
to be cured ; doubtless I am the cause of
his death, and unless Esdras's ass comes to
assist me, I am ruined : mercy on me, they
will be here out of hand, and drag me out
of my house for a murderer."*
But, notwithstanding the perplexity and
jeopardy he was in, he had the precaution
to shut his door ; he then took the corpse
into his wife's chamber, upon which sh6
swooned away. ' Alas,' she said^ ' we are
utterly ruined, unless we adopt some expe-
dient to turn the corpse out of our house
this night ! Beyond all question, if we har-
bour it here till morning, our lives must
pay for it. By what means did yOu kill
this man r' ' That is not the question,"
replied the Jew, ' oi^r business now is, to
find out A remedy for such a shocking ac-
cident.'
The doctor and his wife consulted to-
gether how to get rid of his corps^ that
night. The doctor could not think of any
stratagem ; but his wife, more fertile in in-
vention, said, ' A thought strikes me, let us
carry the corpse to the leads of our house,
and put it down the chimney into the house
of the Mussulman our next neighbour'
This Mussuhiian, or Turk, was one of the
Sultan's purveyors, for furnishing oil, but-
ter, tallow, &c. and had a magazine in his
house, where the rats and mice made prodi-
gious havock.
182 LITTLE HUNCH-BACIt*
The Jewisli doctor approving the propo??^
ed expedient, liis wife and he took the Httle
Hunch-back up to the roof of the house ;
and putting ropes under his arm-pits, let
him down the chimney into the purveyor's
chamber so dexterously, that he stood up-
right against the wall, as if he had been a^
live ; when they found he stood firm, they
pulled up the ropes, and left him in that
posture. They were scarce got down into
their ciiamber, when the purveyor went in-
to his, being just come from a wedding-feast,
w^ith a lanthorn in his hand ; he was sur-
prised, when, by the light of his lanthorn, he
descried a figure standing upright in his
chimney, and apprehending it was a robber,
he took up a cane, and coming up to the
Hunch-back, ' Ah," says he, ' I thought it
was the rats and mice that ate my butter
and tallow, and it is you that come down the
chimhey and rob me ? I question if ever you
come back again upon this errand. This
said, he beat him severely with his cane ;
upon this the corpse fell down, and the pur-
veyor redoubled liis blows ; but, observing
the body not to move, and then perceiving
it was a corpse, fear succeeded his anger.
* Wretched man that I am,' said he, ' I have
killed a man ! alas, I have carried my re-
venge too far ! accursed be the oil that gave
occasion to my commission of such a crimi-
LITTLE HUNCH-BACK. 18S
iial act." In fine, he stood pale and thun-
der-struck ; he thought he saw the officers
ah'eady come to drag him to condign pu^
nishment, and could not think what resolu-
tion to take.
The Sultan of Casgar's ])Hrveyor had ne-
ver observed the little man's hunch when he
was beating him, but as soon as he perceiv-
ed it, he uttered a thousand imprecations
against him. ' Ah, you crooked Hunch-
back," cried he, ' would you had robbed me
of all my oil, and I had not found you here;
if it had been so, I liad not been so perplex^
€d as I now am, for the sake of you and
your hunch.' As soon as he had uttered
these words, he took the little crookback
uj)on his shoulders, and carried him out of
doors, to the end of the street, where he
set him upright, resting against a shop, and
returned lioaie without looking behind him.
A few minutes before l)reak of day, a
Christian n'.erchant who was very rich, and
furnished the Sultan's palace with most ar-
ticles, having sat up all night debauching,
came out of his house to bathe. Though
drunk he was sensible that the : ight was
far spent, and that the peo})le would quick-
ly be summoned to prayers, that begin at
the break of day, tlierefore he quickened
his pace to get in time to the bath, lest a
Turk niteting him in the way to the mosque,
184 LITTLE HUNCH-BACK.
should carry him to prison as a drunkard ;
as he came to tlie end of the street, he stop-
ped upon some necessary occasion, and lean-
ed against the shop where the Sultan's pur-
veyor had put Hunch-back's corpse ; which
being jostled, fell on the merchant's back ;
wlio, thinking it was a robber that came to
attack hull, knocked him down, and after
redoubling his blows cried out thieves.
The outcry alarmed the watch, who came
up immediately, and finding a Christian
l)eating a Turk, (for Hunch-back was of
that religion.) * What reason, have you,'
said hcj ' to abuse a Mussulman in this
manner ?' ' He would have robbed me,' re-
plied the merchant, ' and jqmped upon my
back with intent to take me by the throat.'
* If he did,' said the watch, ' you have re-
venged yourself sufficiently, release him.'
At the same time he stretched out his hand
to help little Hunch-back up; but observing
he was dead, ^ Is it thus,' said he, * that a
Christian dares toassa.ssinate a INiussulman ?'
he seized the Christian, and carried him to
the sheriff's, where he v»-as kej)t till the
judge v»';is ready to examine him ; in the
niean time the Christian grew sober, and
the more he reflected upon his adventure,
the less could he conceive how the blows
with his fist could kill the Turk.
The judge having heard the report of thp
LITTLE HUNCH -BACK, 185
watch, and viewed the corpse, interrogated
the Christian merchant, who could not de-
ny the crime, though he had not comiiiitted
it; but the judge considering that Hunch-
back was one of the Sultan's buffoons, would
not put the Christian to death, till he knew
his pleasure To this end he went to the
palacp, and acquainted the Sultan with what
had happened ; and received from the Sultan
this answer; * I have no mercj to shew to
a Christian that kills a MussuliJian; go, do
your office' Upon this the judge ordered
a gibbet to be erected, and sent criers ovet
the city, to proclaim that they were about
to hang a Christian for killing a Mussulman.
The merchant was brought out of goa}
to the foot pf the gallows ; and the hangr
man having put tlie rope about his neck,
was going to turn him off, when the Sul-
tan's purveyor, breaking through the crowd,
made up to the gibbet, calling to the hang-
man to stop, for that the Christian had not
committed the murder, but himself had
done it ; upon this the sheriff, who attend-
ed the execution, interrogated the purvey-
or; who told him every circumstance ot his
killing the little Hunch-back, and convey^
ing his corpse to the place where the Chris-
tian merchant found him. * Vou were a-
bout,' added he, ' to inflict death on an inj-
nocent person ; for how can he be guiitv of
Q
186 LITTLE HUiNCH-BACK.
the death of a man who was dead before he
came to him? My crime is sufficient in
having killed a Turk, without loading my
conscience with the additional weight of a
Christian that is not guilty.''
'I'he Sultan of Casgar's purveyor having
publicly charged himself v,ith the death of
the little hunch-backed man, the sherifi'
could not avoid doing justice to the mer-
chant. ' Let the Clnistian go,' said he,
* aiid hang this man in his stead, since it ap-
pears by his own confession tltat he is guil-
ty.' The hangman then released the mer-
chant, and put the roj>e round the purvey-
or's neck ; but just as he was going to turn
him ofF, he heard the voice of the Jewish
doctor, intrealing him to suspend the exe-
cution, and make room for iiim to throw
himself at the foot of the judge.
When he appeared before the judge, ' My
lord,' said he. " this jViussuIman you are a-
bout to h.ang is not guilty; all the guilt lies
at my door. Last night a man and a wo-
mim, unknov/n to me, came to my door
with a sick man, and knocking, my maid
opened it without a light, and received from
them a piece of money, with a comnlission
to desire me in their name, to look at a sick
person ; while she was delivering hpr mes-
sage, they conveyed the person to the stair-
head, and then disapjjeared ; I went down.
LITTLE IIUNCII-BACK. 187
\vithoiit staying for my servant to light a
candle, and in the dark, happening to stumble
upon the sick pei*son, threw him down
stairs ; in fine, I saw he was dead, and that
it was the crooked Mussulman. My wife
and 1 took the corpse, and after conveying
it up to tlie leads of our liouse, shoved it to
tlie roof of th« purveyor\s house^ and let it
down the chimney into the chamber ; the
jnirveyor taking the little man for a thief,
after beating him concluded he had killed
him ; but that it was not so, you will be
convinced by my deposition, that I am the
only j)erpetrator of the murder, and though
it was committed undesignedly, I have re-
solved to expiate my crime by exculpating
the Sultan\s purveyor, whose innccence I
have now revealed, therefore dismiss him,
and put me in his place, for I alone am the
cause of the death of this little man.'
The chief justice being persuaded that
the Jewish doctor was tlie murderer, gave
orders to the executioner to seize liim and
release the purveyor. Accordingly the doc-
tor was just upon the point of execution,
when the taylor appeared, desiring that he
might make confession to the lord justice.
Room being made, ' My lord,' said he to the
judge, * you have narrowly escaped taking
away the lives of three innocent persons ;
btit if you will have |)atience to hear me, I
18S LITTLE HUNCH-feACK.
will discover to you the murderer of the
crook-backed man ; if his death is to be ex-
piated by that of another, it must be mine.
Yesterday, towards the evening, as I was
disposed to be merry, the little Hunch-back
came to my door half drunk, and I invited
him to pass the evening ; he accordingly
accepted of the invitation. We sat down to
supper, and I gave him a plate of fish ; a
bone stuck in his throat, and though my
wife and I did our utmost to relieve hinij
he died in a few minutes ; his death afflict-
ed us extremely, and for fear of being charg-
ed with it, we carried the corpse to the Jew-
ish doctor^s house, and knocked at the door;
the maid opened it, and I desired her to go
up and ask her master to give his advice to
a person that was sick ? and to encourage
him, I charged her to give him a fee which
I had piit into her hand ; in the interim I
carried Hunch-back up stairsj and laid him
upon the uppermost step, and then my wife
and I departed. The doctor, in coming
down, threw the corpse down stairs, and
therefore conceived himself to be the cause
of his death. Now this being the case,**
Continued he, ' release the doctor, and let
me die in his stead.'
The chief justice, and all the spectators,
could not suflSciently admire the strange e-
vents that ensued upon the death of the
LITTLE HUXCH-BACK. 189
little crooked man. ' Let the Jewish doc-
tor go,' said the judge, ' ant. hmig up the
taylor, since he confesses the crime."' The
executioner having dismissed the docior,
prepared for the execution of the tayior
While they were making ready to hang
the taylor, the Sultan of Casgar enfjuirtd
for his crooked jester. ' The Hunch-back,
Sir," said one of his officers, ' whom you in-
f]uire after, got drunk last night, and con-
trary to his custom slipped aut of the par-
lace, and this morning was found dead ; a
man was brought before the chief justice,
and charged with his murder ; but when he
was going to be hanged, up came a man,
and after him another, who took the charge
upon themselves and exculpated each other.
The examination has continued a longtime,
and the judge is now examining a fourth
man, that gives himself out for tlie real per-
petrator of the murder.
Upon this intelligence, the Sultan of Cas-
gar sent a liussar to the place of execution,
to bring the arraigned persons before hirn
immediately; and withal to bring the corpse
of Hunch-back, that he might see him ojice
more. Accordingly the hussar went, and
arriving at the place of punishment, just
when tlie executioner was going to tyt
up the taylor, called upon him to suspend
the execution. Now, the haniiman know-
190 tITTLE HUNCH-BACK.
'ng the hussar, untied the taylor ; and then
the hussar acquainted the judge with the
Sultan's pleasitre. The judge obeyed, went
to the palace, accompanied by the taylor,
the Jewish doctor, and the Christian mer-
chant, and made four of his men carry the
Hunch-back's corpse with him.
When they appeared before the Sultan,
the judge threw himself at the prince's feet,
and gave him a faithful relation of what he
knew of the story qi' the hunch-backed man.
The Sultan found the story so uncommon^
that he ordered his secretary to commit it
to writing ; then, addressing himself to the
audience ; ' Did you ever hear,"* said he,
such a surprising story as this respecting
my little crooked buffoon ?' Then the tay-
lor, after saluting him, spoke in the follow-
ing manner : ' Most puissant monarch, I
know a story, yet more astonishing than
that you have now heard ; if your ma-
jesty will give me leave, I will tell it you'.
« Well,' said the Sultan, * I give you leave,'
and the taylor went on as follows :
' A citizen of Damascus did me the lio-
nour two days ago, to invite me to an en-
tertainment, which he was to give to his
friends as yesterday ; accordingly I went
pretty early, and found there twenty per-
sons.
^ The master of the house was gone ouf
LITTLE IlU.NCll-UACK 191
upon some business, but in a short time he
came home, and brought with him a young
man, a stranger, very well dressed, and
comely, but lame ; when he came in, we all
rose, and out of respect to the master of the
house, invited the young man to sit down
with us upon the sofa ; he was going to sit
do^tn, but on a sudden, spying a barber in
our company, he retreated towards the door:
the master of the house stopped him ;
' Where are you going ?' said he, ' I bring
you v.'ith me to do me the honour of being
my guest) and you are no sooner in my
liouse, than you run away.' ' Sir,' said the
young man, ' do not stop me, 1 cannot with-
out horror look upon that abominable bar-
ber ; though he is born in a country where
all the natives are whites, he resembles an
Ethiopian ; and his soul is yet blacker, and
more horrible than his face.'
« We were all surprised to hear the young
man speak thus, and began to have a bad
opinion of the barber, without knowing
what ground he had for what he said ; nay,
we protested we would not suffer any one
to remain in our company that bore so hor^-
rid a character. The master of the house
intreated the stranger to tell us what reason
he had for hating the barber. ' This curs-
ed barber,* said the young man, ' is the
CftV'se of inv being lame,, and falling under
192 LITTLE HUNCH-BACK,
most dire misfortune that can be imagined :
for this reason I have made an oath to shun
ail places where he is, and even not to stay
in the city where he dv/ells. It was for
til is reason that I left Bagdad, where he
then was, and travelled so far as to settle
in this city, in the heart of Great Tartary,
a place where I flittered myself I should
never see him. And now, contrary to my
fexpectation^ I find him here ; this obliges
me, against my will, to deprive myself of
the honour of your company ; this very day
I leave your town, and will, if I can, con-
ceal myself from him.' This said, he would
have left us; but the master entreated him
to stay,aVid to tell us the cause of his aversion
for the barber, who all this while looked
down and said not a word. We joined with
the master of the house in requesting him
to stay, which he at la'^t consented to do ;
and, after turning his back on tlie barber,
gave us the following account:
' My father's rpialily might have entitled
him to the highest post in the city of Bag-
dad, but he preferred a retired life to all
the honours he might deserve. I was his
only child, and when he died I was of age
to dispose of the plentiful fortune he had
left me ; which I did not squander, but ap-
plied to such uses that I was generally re-
spected for n)y conduct.
LITTLE HUNCH-BACK. 1 9S
* I had not been jet disturbed with pas-
sion, and was so tar from being sensible of
love, that 1 acknowledge, perhaps to my
shame, that I cautiously avoided the cor.-
Versation of women. One day I saw a great
company of ladies before me, and that I
might not meet them, I turned down a nar-
row lane, and sat down upon a bench ; I sat
over against a window, where there stood a
pot with flowers, and I had my eyes fixed up-
on this, when suddenly the window opened,
and a young lady appeared whose beauty
was enchanting ; immediately she cast her
eyes upon me, and in watering the flower-
pot, with a hand whiter than alabaster,
looked upon me with a smile that inspired
me with as much love for her as I had for-
merly aversion for all women. After hav-
ing watered her flowers, and darted upon
me a glance that pierced my heart, she shut
the window, and left me in inconceivable
anxiety.
' I dwelt upon these thoughts, till alarm-
ed with a noise in the street ; I turned my
head, and saw it was the upper cady of the
city, mounted on a mule, and attended by
five or six servants ; he alighted at the door
of the house where the young lady had o-
pened the window, and went in, from
whence I concluded that he was the young
lady's father.
194 LITTLE Hti\CH-BACK.
' I went home in a different humour from
that I brought with me, agitated by the
most violent passion I Iiad ever feit; in fine,
i went to bed with a violent fever upon me.
■My relations began to despair of my life ;
when an old lady of my acquaintance came
to see me ; who, having more sagacity than
the doctors, soon informed me she knew my
complaint. On this I declared to her my
unhappy state of mind, and unravelled all
the circumstances of my adventure. The
old woman fortunately knew the lady, and
promised to interest her in my favour ; and
departed immediately on her embassy. The
next morning she returned with good tid-
ings ; for she had made the lady promise to
grant me an interview on the Friday fol-
io ning.
' This information was as good to me as
manna from Heaven, for it almost instant-
ly made me well. The day soon came, and
early in the morning I dispatched a slave to
call a barber who would do his business ex-
peditiously. The slave brought me th.e
wretch you see here, who, after saluting me,
said, ' Sir, you look as if you were not well.
Let me know what service I am to render
you.' I informed him, I only wanted to be
shaved, and desired him to do it quickly.
He spent much time in opening his case
cmd preparing his razor?, instead of put-
LITTLE HUxVCH-BACK. 195
ting water in his bason, he took a very
handsome astrolabe out of his budget, and
and went into tlie middle of the yard to
take the heiglit of the sun : wh.en he return-
ed, ' Sir,' said he, with a formality tliat put
me out of ail patience, * INJars and Mercury
say that this day you run a great risk, not
indeed of losing your life, but of an incon-
venience which will attend you while you
live. You only sent for a barber ; but hi
mv person you have the best barber in Bag-
dad, an experienced physician, a very pro-
found (clieniist, an infallible astrologer, a fi-
nished t^rammarian, a complete orator, a
subtle logician, a mathematician perfectly
well versed in geometry, aritijmetic, astro-
nomy, and ad the divisions of algebra ; and a
iiistorian, fully master of all the kingdoms
of the universe. Besides, I know all parts
of philosophy. I have ail the traditions up-
on my fingtr ends, I anj a poet, an archi-
tect ; nay, what is it I am not .''"'
* Tiius he went on full an hour, till 1
grew into such a violent passion as almost
thoaked me ; but the more haste I was in,
the less he made ; he laid down his razor,
and took up his astrolabe ; then laid down
his astrolabe, and took up his razor. He
then began to sh^ve me, prattling all the
time in the most vehement maniuT, conclud-
ing by saying, it was his firm intention to
1 96 LITTLE HUNCII-BACK.
stay with me the whole of the day. This
was too much for me to bear, and I arose
in a violent pas5;ion and ran out of the lioiise.
The infernal barber followed me, shouting
after me with all his mi^ht ; and collected
toojether a mob of at least ten thousand
people. I reached the cady's house as I
thought unobserved ; and found an old wo-
man waiting for me, who conducted me
without delay to my mistress. The barber,
however, saw me enter the house ; and ac-
companied with the mob soon reached it. He
then harangued the populace ; asserting that
I was sure of being murdered in that house,
and desiring their assistance to rescue me.
The barber and his associates immediately
broke open the door ; and in a body rushed
in. Tlie noise was tremendous, and in the
confusion I concealed myself in a large trunk.
Here the barber soon discovered me, and
placing the chest on his head left the house.
When I found myself in the street, I opened
the lid, and leaped out; but sprained my
ankle so much, that I have been lame ever
since. This afl'air made so great a noise,
that shame compelled me to leave the city
for ever. So, gentlemen, you may perceive
that I have reason to hate and shun this
detestable barber as long as 1 live.''
' The young man then rose, and ran out
of the house. We sat down to tal)le, and
LITTLE HUNCH-BACK. 197
were merry till afternoon prayers. When
all the company partc(], I went to my shop,
till it was time for me to return home.
' It was dnrini; this interval that Hunch-
back came half drunk, and stood before my
shop, where he sung and played the tabor.
I thought, that by taking him home v»ith
me, I should divert my wife, who gave us a
dish of fish, and I presented Hunch-back
with some, which he ate without taking
notice of a bone. He fell down dead before
us, and after having hi vain essayed to help
him, the trouble occasioned us by such an
unlucky accident, induced us to carry the
corpse out, and lodge it with the Jewish
doctor. The Jewish doctor put it into the
chamber of the purveyor, and the purveyor
carried it forth into the street, where it was
l.»elieved the merchant had killed him This,
Sire,' added the taylor, ' is what I had to
say to satisfy your majesty, who must pro-
nounce whether we are worthy of mercy or
wrath, life or death."
The Sultan of Casgar gave the taylor
and his comrades their lives. ' I cannot
but acknowledge,' says he, 'that I am more
amused with the history of the young cripple
than with the story of my jester : but be-
fore I send you away, and before we bury
Hunch-back, I would see the barber, on
whose account I have pardoned you ; since
R
198 LITTLE HUNCH-BACK.
he is in my capital, it is easy to satisfy m}
curiosity.'' At the same time he sent a Ser-
jeant with the taylor to find him.
They went immediately and brought the
barber, whom they presented to the Sultan:
the barber was an old man of ninety years,
his eye-brows and beard were as white as
snow, his ears hanging down, and he had a
very long nose. The Sultan could not for-
bear laughing when he saw him.
The Sultan commanded them to tell him
the story of the Hunch-back ; which, when
he heard, he shook his head, intimating
that there was something under this which
he did not understand. Truly, cried he,
this is a surprising story ; but I am willing
to examine Hunch-back a little closely. He
drew near him, sat on the ground, took his
head between his knees, and after he had
looked upon him steadfastly, he fell into so
great a fit of laughter, and had so little com-
mand of himself, that be fell backwards,
without considering that he was before the
Sultan of Casgar. As soon as he came to
himself, he said, ' If ever any history deserv-
ed to be written in letters of gold, it is this
of Hunch-back.'
' Sire,' said the barber to the Sultan, ' I
swear that Hunch-back is not dead : he is
yet alive, and I shall be willing to pass for
a madman, if I do not let you see it this
minute.' Having said these words, he took
LITTLE HUNCH-BACK. 199
out of a box wherein he had several medi-
cines, a little vial with balsam, with which
he rubbed Hunch-back's neck a long time;
then he took out of his case a neat iron in-
strument, which he put between his teeth ;
and after he Ijad opened his mouth, he thrust
down his throat a pair of small pincers, with
which he took out a large fish bone, which
he shewed to all the people. Immediately
Hunch-back sneezed, stretched out his arms
and feet, and gave several other signs of life.
The Sultan of Casgar, and those with
him who were witnesses of this action, were
less surprised to see Hunch-back revive,
than at the merit and capacity of the bar-
ber ; and, notwithstanding all his faults, be-
gan to look upon him as a person of great
skill. The Sultan ordered the story of
Hunch-back to be entered on the records
with that of the barber, that the memory
of it might be preserved. Nor did he stop
here; but that the taylor, Jewish doctor,
purveyor, and Christian merchant, nnght
remember the adventure, which the accident
of Hunch-back had occasioned to them,
with pleasure, he did not send them away
till he had given each of them a very rich
robe, with which he caused them to be cloth-
ed in his presence. As for the barber, he
honoured him with a liberal pension, and
kept him near his person.
K2
THE HORNED COCK.
A MAN that bought poultry round the coun- |
try to supply the markets of the metropo-
lis, having got intelligence of a Virtuoso
who built his pretensions to scientific fame
on making collections of the anomalous fro-
lics of nature, without ever attempting to
investigate the wisdom and power displayed
in the regular process of her works, resolv-
ed to turn it to his own advantage.
As soon as he found that he could bring
his scheme to a probability of success, he
waited on the VirtuosOp and giving notice
that he had something curious to communi-
cate, was immediately admitted to an audi-
ence in his museum, where he informed
him, that he had received intelligence
from a particular friend of his, a Scotch
pedlar, that, in the farthest part of the
Highlands, there was a most remarkable
cock, with two surprising horns growing
out of the back of his head, in the possession
of an old woman, who was fanious for the
second sight; that, upon his admiring the
creature, the uoman had oifercd to sell it to
THE IIORiXED COCK. ^01
him, for a pound of tobacco and a bottle of
brandy; but lie was afraid to meddle witb
it, as all the country said it was her famili-
ar, thougli he had seen it himself scrape the
dunghill cud tread the hens> like any other
cock : and that, upon hearing the news, he
was come to inform his lordship of it, and
ofTer his service to go all the way himself
for the bird, and bring him up, if he would
promise to re-imburse him the expenses of his
journey; to shew that he had no design to im-
pose upon him, he should go at his own risk,
and desire nothing, if he did not succeed.
The firstmention of such acuriosity threw
the Virtuoso into the highest rapture ; he
embraced the fellow, conjured him not to
lose a minute, nor drop the least s) liable of
the affair to any person living, till he brought
him the cock ; and, to secure his fidelity,
lie pulled out his purse, gave him ten gui-
neas, with a promise of fifty more, the mo-
ment he should receive him. The man
promised every thing he required, and
went away, hugging himself in the suc-
cess of his scheme. Accordingly he left
that part of the country directly, and, tak-
ing care to keep beyond the reach of his
lordship's enquiry, foilowed his business as
usual, for the time that he might be thought
to have spent in his expedition. In the
mean while, tiie Virtuoso could not conceal
J I •)
202 THE HORNED COCK.
the pride of his heart, on the prospect of so
great an acquisition ; but, in all the letters
to his philosophical correspondents, gave
mysterious hints of something immensely
fine, rare, and unnatural, and assumed the
importance due to the possession of such a
treasure.
At length, the moment arrived that was
to complete his happiness. About ten o'clock
at night the man alighted at his lordship's
gate, and sending in his name, was imme-
diately shewn into the museum, where hi-
lordship flew to meet him, in the utmost
impatience. As soon as the man entered*
all over spattered with dirt, and putting on
every apjiearance of fatigue, ' Well, my
good friend," said the Virtuoso, with the
greatest eagerness, ' what success ? Where
is the dear creature ? Shall I be so happ}^
as to see him in my possession ?' — ' M}^
lord," answered the man, ' I must beg your
pardon for a moment, I am not able to
speak : I am quite worn out, and then drop-
ping upon a chair, as if lie was just ready
to faint, his lordship immediately rung for
some cordial for him, wliich he took from
the servant himself at the door, (for he
Vv'ould not admit any one living.) and gave
it him v/ith his own hand. When he was
'a little recovered, ' I beg your lordshi])'s
]L)ar{lon;"' continued he, * but I could not hold
TiiE KORNED COCK. 203
will a moment longer; what witli travelling
all day, and wutcliing all night, I am quite
worn out.'' — ' Eut, where is the bird ?' —
* And then such ofiers as I have re- fused !
well, ty be sure, I trusted to your lordship's
generosity, tor I shall never have such ano-
ther opportunity of mnking my fortune ; for
behold the (hin;:^ had taken wind, and there
was my Lord Duke's and Sir Thomas's men,
and Inenly more, riding for life, to try who
siiould get hins, hut I had got tlie start of
them, and was coming back, witli the ))ret-
ty creature in my bosom ; but I let them
ail go on their fooPs errand, and did not say
anything to them; for how^ did I know,
but they might kill me to get him away
iVom me ?' — Having iinished his spcecli,
which the other did not chuse to interrupt,
though he listened to it with the utmost im-
patience, tlie fellow opened his horseman's
coat, and, with the greatest caution, produc-
ed the wonderful creature ; the liead and
neck of which had been carefully th.rust in-
to a box made on purpose, for fear the coat
should lul) oil' the horns.
His lordship's rapture at the sight is not
to be described, [ic instantly pulled out
his purse, and paying down the promised
price, took possession of him, and bid the
man go and refresh himself for that night
with the best in the houje, and in the morn-
204 THE HORNED COCK.
ing he would consider bow he might maliC
him a return more equal to his service, hy
procuring him some handsome place at court.
But the fellow had other designs in his head,
than ever to see his face more. However,
he kept that to himself, and, retiring with
many professions of gratitude, left the house
directly, and took leave of that country for
ever.
In the meantime, his lordship had notice
that supper w^as served up ; but though he
Iiad company of the first rank in his house,
he was so wrapped up in the contemplation
of his new acquisition, that he sent word
he was taken suddenly ill, and could not
possibly attend them : he then dispatched
several servants express to his learned friends,
to desire their attendance next day, to see
the most astonishing and beautiful composi-
tion nature had ever made in the animal
world, and devoted the rest of the niglit to
drawing up a proper description of this snr-
j)rising horned cock, with a physical eiujui-
ry into the substance of IjIs horns, and a
philosophical attempt to account for such
an extraordinajy prodMction. AVhcn tliis
work of uncommon learning was finished,
he indulged himself with taking another
view of his darling bird, and then put him
into a beautiful ca^e, from which he dislodg-
ed two Chinese pheasants, and placed him
i-HE HORNED COCK. 205
in his museum next to his favourite horned
owl.
It was six in the morning before he re-
tired t(l rest, when his head was so full of
his new acquisition, that he lay dreaming
of cows with wings, and cocks with horns,
and such like wonderful works of nature,
till the arrival of his learned friends at noon.
As soon as their cominij^ was announced, he
arose directly, and without waiting to visit
his cock, to whom he had given a sufficient
quantity of provisions before he left him,
went to meet them. After several impati-
ent enquiries into the cause of so sudden and
peremptory a summons, the Virtuoso, in all
the mysterious importance, which so inesti-
mable an acquisition gave hinij produced
his own learned labours of that morning,
and, when they had sufficiently studied and
examined them, introduced them to a sight
of the unparalled subject : ' There, gentle-
men," said he, in conscious exultation, Hhere,
my friends, behold the most uncommon,
unnatural, and inestimable curiosity, that
ever enriched the collection of a philosopher.
There, behold an indisputable proof of their
error, who assert that nature has placed an
immoveable boundary between the quadru-
ped and winged creation. There, behold a
sufFicient encouragement, to urge your in-
defatigable search for monsters, and to mix
206 THE HORNED COCK.
the whole animal creation in coition, for
the production of mermaids, griffins, cen-
taurs, harpies, and horned cocks, and that
beautiful confusion, which yields such inex-
pressible delight to an inquisitive philoso-
phic mind/ —
While he was making this harangue, the
company approached the gilded cage, that
contained this inestimable prodigy ; and,
stooping down to contemplate him, were sur*
prized to fmd one of the horns had fallen off,
and the other moved considerably from the
situation in which it had been described to
them : for doleful to relate ! the cock, which
was of the ri^ht o^ame-breed, had unfortu*
nately taken offence at the visage of the
owl his neighbour^ and, in his struggles to
come at him through the bars of the cage,
had rubbed off one, and displaced the other
of his horns. When this deplorable misfor-
tune was mentioned to the owner, it is im-
possible to describe his astonishment and
confusion. He stooped hastily to be satis-
fied of the truth of it; and beholding the ir-
reparable ruin of his pride, gave one dismal
groan, and fell at his length on the floor,
in a swoon.
While his servants, who were summoned
upon the occasion, were fetching him to
Iiimself, one of the philosophers opened the
ta^'e, andj taking out the bird, they all en-
THE HORNED COCK. 207
tered into a discussion of so strange a phe-
nomenon. After many learned and ingeni-
ous solutions, one of tliem declared, that it
had always been his opinion, in which tht
j)resent case abundantly confirmed him, that
all cornuted animals cast their horns every
year, like the stag, and that the present
case was no more than that ; of which ho
was perfectly convinced, as he could plain!}
feel, with his finger, the growing horn, wluch
luid thus thrust off the old one ; so tfiat, my
lord, (said he, addressing himself to the
owner, who by this time was recovered, and
attending to their remarks,) ' instead of be-
ing vexed at such an event, you have reason
to rejoice, as it explains a very difficult
point, and you will now have an opportu-
nity of tracing the growth of this beautiful
prodigy."
This sage solution administered some
consolation to the Virtuoso, who immediate-
ly took the bird in his own hands, and feel-
ing the lump of wax, which had fastened
on the fictitious horn, Avas convinced of the
truth of his friend's accurate observation ;
which he himself farther confirmed, by tak-
ing notice, that as no blood followed the
avulsion, it was evident that the horn was
of itself ready to fall off, without the assists
ance of the cock's struggling, (for they had
caught him at that workj and the disloca-*
208 THE HORXED COCK.
tion of the other horn shewed, that it was
not ill the same state of Hpeness, andtliere-
fore it had resisted that force. Conscious-
ness of the sagacity of this remark in some
degree restored his spirits, and he was go-
ing to proceed, when one of the company,
who had taken up and examined the fallen
horn, and had not given any opinion on the
matter, interrupting him drily, said, that
the hypothesis was certainly very ingenious,
but he believed the affair might be solved a
readier way ; for, upon examination of the
supposed horn, he found it was only a cock's
3]jur, which had been fastened upon the
creature's head with wax, as appeared evi-
dently by the remains of tiie wax upon the
end of the 5pur in his hand ; ai:d, if they
would let him puil oft' the otlier, lie v/otdd
undertake that the impi)sture would be too
plain to admit of any douljt.
The rnention of this threw them all into
confusion, as they had all given their opi-
nions positively, of the honour of which it
deprived them, and cut short many more,
which they were ready to offer ; they there-
fore stood looking at each other, till iie
stretched out his hand to pull off the other
liorn, when they all interposed, j)articularly
the ovi'ner, and insisted that jhey must be
better satisfied of wliat he liad advanced,
before they could admit so rasii an experi-
THE HORNED COCK. 209
ment. But the bird himself cut short the
dispute ; tor, some of the company happen-
ing to have snuff in their fingers, it got in-
to the cock's eyes, and made him shake his
head with such violence, that off flew the
horn in his owner's face. The person who
had made the discovery, immediatjcly took
it up, and shewed such plain proof of the
trick, that it could no longer be denied.
It is impossible to describe the shame
and vexation, in every philosophic face pre-
sent, at this lamentable event. The abused
purchaser, in particular, was almost mad :
hov, ever, after mature deliberation, it was
agreed upon, for the credit of philosophy^
to bear the ridicule of the unlearned, by
seeking satisfaction from the cheat. As for
the cock, he was immediately sacrificed to
^Eculapius, to avert the consequences which
such a disappointment might have upon the
health and understanding of the company,
and to remove such an evidence of their
disgrace. But all their caution was in vain ;
tiie person who had first detected the deceit,
could not deny his vanity the pleasure of
making his sagacity known ; and the fellow,
finding his trick passed over thus with im-
punity, could not avoid boasting of it; and
to this day diverts his customers with the
history of the horned cock.
S
THE HAUNTED CELLAR.
An old baroness in Germany, who had lost
her lord and all her children, somewhat
more than a century ago, resided in a soli-
tary mansion, with only two domestics, a
male and a female : for, though she possess-
ed an ample fortune, she disdained to keep
a numerous retinue of idle and dissipated
domestics, for the sake of living in a luxu-
rious state ; but contented herself, in gene,
ral, with one dish of substantial food at a
meal. Her chief indulgence was a cup of
generous wine, for the manufacture of which
she had been long celebrated ; but even this
she never used to any sort of excess. What
she saved by frugality she expended in cha-
ritable donations; and want was a stran-
gcr in her neighbourhood.
The baroness having lately changed her
man-servant, a youth about twenty, and ex-
tremely giddy and inattentive to the duties
of his situation, for a man of fifty, which
was nearly the age of her woman-servant,
who was what the world still calls a rigid
old maid, she was suddenly alarmed by the
report of several strange noises, which wer^
said to be now nig^htlv heard in the cellar.
THE HAUNTED CELLAR, 211
As she was by no means free from the
superstition of the age, though a woman in
other respects of great discernment, she felt,
at first, uncomfortable apprehensions ; par-
ticularly, as her servants both agreed, that
what they heard could not proceed from any
thing short of some sujx;rnatural being.
The good old lady, however, determined
to have the evidence of her own ears ; and
for this purpose, sat up with them till the
awful hour of midnight.
No sooner had the clock sounded twelve,
than the noise commenced ; which certain-
ly was of a nature to produce terror in al-
most any bosom. A general rummage of
every thing below was succeeded by the
deepest groans ; and the old lady actually
sunk under the influence of terror, fainting
away on the top of the stairs, where she had
ventured to listen.
In this state she was conveyed to her
chamber ; and, on coming to her senses, af-
ter a little reflection, desired her feniale
servant to continue in the room for the re-
mainder of the night, while her man sat up
in the adjoining apartment.
Having made this arrangement, she soon
closed her eyes, and appeared in a profound
sleep. The perturbation of her mind, how-
ever, had in truth driven sleep from her
eves, which were now shut with much the
S2
5 IS THE HAUNTED CELLAR;
same design as those of the sage Grimallcii]^
when she meditates a sudden interruption
of the secret festivities in the subterranean
haunts of the four-footed nocturnal depre-
dators of the kitchen. In short, from the
ill-counterfeited dread of her m_an and maid-
servant, which had appeared more in their
words than in their physiognomies, she felt
a strong persuasion that there was some
fraud in the business.
Having once entertained this idea, every
circumstance which suggested itself, still
stronger confirmed her suspicions ; till, at
length, what she at lirst only suspected, be-
gan now to impress her mind with all th6
conviction of certainty.
She reflected, that her squeamish old
maid had always expressed a great dislike
to the youth lately discharged, but did not
seem remarkably pleased with his departure;
that since her new man came, the favourite
casks in the cellarj which before were suffi-
ciently soon exhaustedjhad still faster grown
sonorous ; that more provisions than usual
had also been devoured ; and that, whatever
ghosts there might be existing below, where
no such beings had ever before been heard
of, it was not likely that their insubstantial
forms were supported by the gross foods of
mortals, or even the exquisite spirituous
coiitents of her casks.
a HE HAUNTED CELLAR. 213
From all these circurr stances, she felt a-
bundantly satisfied, tliat her female servant
knew well enough of the existence of flesh
and blood in the cellar.
While the baroness was occupied in these,
and similar reflections, her old maid, who
entertained not the smallest apprehension
that her mistress could awake from such a
state of deep somnolency, as that in which
she seemed evidently locked for some hours
at least, began to make preparation for quit-
ting the room. She made a slight noise, as
if by accident ; carried a candle near the
face of her mistress ; and asked, with tole-
rable audibility, if she was awake, or would
she be helped to any thing ? Then, adjusting
her head-dress at the toilet, with more at-
tention than would have been necessary for
an assignation with a ghost, she again re-
peated her questions, in a lower note ; pas-
sed the candle at a little greater distance
from her mistress's face; and, finding all
still and silent, slowly tiptoed out of the
chamber.
The baroness now heard her join her
fellow-servant in the next room ; and, slid-
ing out of bed, perceived thein, through the
key-hole, proceeding down stairs, with great
glee, together.
She followed, in the dark, at a small dis-
tance ; and saw them descending into the
6 3
214 THE HAUNTED CELLAR.
cellar; without any dread of ghosts or gob-
lins. On the contrary, she heard a laugh
of triumph, which seemed but little sup-
pressed, and in which her ear quickly re-
cognised a complete trio
Being thus perfectly satisfied of the fact,
which was as the old lady had suspected,
shiB returned to her room ; and, while dress-
ing herself, determined how she would act.
She was a woman not only of great good
sense, but of great good-nature ; and, not
seeing objects in the worst light, had, in
her heart, already forgiven them the terror
which they occasioned her, though she was
resolved to punish them, for their audacity;
a little in their own way.
With benevolence in her heart, and an
arch smile of cheerful benignity on her
countenance, she softly descended the cellar
stairs, and perceived the furtive worshippers
of love as well as wine, at their midnight
orgies, near her favourite casks, in ^n in-
t1ern vault. The mellow light of a large
lanthorn, gave them completely to her view ;
and she found, as she had suspected, that
the recently discarded young man was not
now quite so disagreeable to her squeamish
old maid, as he formerly was said to be !
After surveying this interesting scene for
a few minutes, the baroness, retreating a
step or two back, gave a great stamp with
h^t foot. She now heard a general scream.
THE HAUNTED CELLAR. 215
and instantly advanced ; but, though her
two servants remained apparently petrified
with apprehension and horror, the paramour
of the old maid had instantaneously vanished.
The good old baroness suffered them to
imagine thai she knew nothing of any third
person ; but she sarcastically complimented
their courage on tluis venturing themselves
in a haunted cellar; and expressed a wish,,
now they were there all together, that each
hole and corner of the vault might be search-
ed for the ghost.
At the mention of this design^ a groan
was suddenly heard, proceeding from a clo-
*set in a remote part of the cellar. The ba-
loness, assuming great alarm, desired her
man to look into that closet ; which, with
some reluctance, he at length did ; but,
though the groaning continued, he persisted
that there was nothing to be seen. She
then desircd her woman also to look ; and
she too, aflecting much teri-or, as the groan-
ing was still audible, opened the door a little
wav, peeped in ; and, returning, assured her
mistress, as she well might, that no ghost
was there !
Tlie ohl lady now desired her man to
take the hammer, and a few stout nails, from
a basket in the cellar, and instantly to close
up the door ; being, as she observed, quite
positive that the ^host must now be there,
where she was resolved to keep him. Ilav-
216 THE HAUNTED CELLAR.
iiig made her man do this, and also com-
pletely block up the door-way with full
casks and lumber, she drove before her, out
of the subterranean paradise, i\\e guilty pair
of transgressors, and locked them up in
their respective apartments.
In the morning she let them out, but
would not permit any approach to the cel-
lar; observing, that the parochial priest
should first be sent for, that he might exor-
cise the imprisoned ghost, and lay hira to
rest till doomsday in the Red Sea.
The baroness accordingly dispatched her
man in pursuit of the parson, enjoying the
consternation into which she had thus thrown
her plotting domestics, who had little con-
ception of the coming catastrophe. The
old maid wept with pretended contrition ;
but her tears, as her mistress well knew,
flowed from a different cause.
When the priest arrived, the baroness
took him aside, related to him the whole
transaction, and made him acquainted with
the rest of her design.
The baroness and priest now proceeded
to the cellar, accompanied by the two trem-
bling servants, each bearing two candles in
their hands, which they were scarcely ca-
pable of holding.
On their arrival near the door of the clo-
set, the baroness addressed the holy man,
THE HAUNTED CELLAk. 2l7
assuring l)im that there was certainly an un-
ruly spirit in (he house ; and that she was
vcrv desirous that it should be fairiv laid to
rest by his pious interposition.
A basin of holy water wns brought; the
sacred book was opened ; and the mystical
aspersions were about to commence before
the closet door, frbm whence the ban'els and
lumber itere removed, j)revious to forcing
it open ; when the old maid, overpowered
by her apprehensions, and unable longer to
support the dread of complete detection,
swooned away, and fell at her mistress's feet !
The attention of the priest was thus too
powerfully arrested, for him to think more
of the ghost ; whose portion of holy water
was now plenteously sprinkled on the old
maid's face, with at least eqlially good ef-
fect ; for she almost immediately revived,
and entered into a complete confession of
the clandestine conspiracy ; acknowledging,
as her mistress had suspected, that she en-
tertained an aflectionate regard for the
young man ; that she had secretly support-
ed him, for some time in the cellar; and
that the story of the ghost was a contriv-
ance, not so much to alarm the baroness, as
to deter her from ever visiting that part of
the house.
The state of the lover, during these trans-
actions, who was now to be let out from
his place of confinement, is not so easy to
5218 THE HAUNTED CELLAR.
be described. When the door was burst
open, he fell on his knees before the baro-
ness, implored her forgiveness, and assured
her that he had a sincere regard for her ser-
vant, whom he wished to marry, notwith-
standing the disparity of her years, as soon
as he could by any means contrive to sup-
port her. She also threw herself on her
knees to her mistress, and with tears, joined
his petition for pardon.
The baroness, benignantly bidding them
rise, took a hand of each, and, joining them
together, told the priest to proceed with
the instructions which she had before given
him ; when, to their unspeakable astonish-
ment, they found, that a ring of the good
and generous baronesses had been put into the
hands of the priest, for the purpose of unit-
ing them on the spot, in the bands of holy
matrimony ; an office which he immediate-
ly performed, to the satisfaction of all par-
ties ; and the worthy baroness, convinced
that they would never more venture to de-
ceive her, took the young man also again
into her service ; where he and his wife
continued to live till the death of their mis-
tress, who left them a considerable legacy,
as the reward of their long-tried future fi-
■idelity.
FINIS.
CONTENTS.
John Audley 5
The Sailor X 38
The Dean of Badajoz 50
The Sh'ppers.. 62
Three Dexterous Thieves 80
Nicolas Pedrosa 90
Little Dominick 121
Pervonte, or tlie Wishes 13G
The Vizier's Daughter 165
Little Hunch-back 178
The Horned Cock 200
The Haunted Cellar 21©
B 000 003 106 2
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