Alô, Alô? Responde
Se gostas mesmo de mim de verdade
Alô, Alô? Responde
Responde com toda sinceridade
Tu não respondes
E o meu coração em lágrimas
Desesperado
Vai dizendo: Alô, Alô?
Ai, se eu tivesse
A certeza desse teu amor
A minha vida
Seria um rosal em flor (responde então)
Alô, Alô?
Continuas a não responder
E o telefone
Cada vez chamando mais
É sempre assim
Não consigo ligação, meu bem
Indiferente
Não te importas com meus ais.
CAP. VII - OS DOIS BREVES, BRANCO E VERDE
Negócios importantes, minha senhora, tinham obrigado meu pai a deixar sua fazenda e a vir passar alguns meses na corte; eu o acompanhei, assim como toda a nossa família, isto foi há sete anos, e nessa época houve um dia... mas que importa o dia?... Eu o poderia dizer já; o dia, o lugar, a hora, tudo está presente à minha alma, como se fora sucedido ontem o acontecimento que vou ter a honra de relatar; é uma loucura… a minha mania... embora... Foi, pois, há sete anos, e tinha eu então treze anos de idade, que, brincando em uma das belas praias do Rio de Janeiro, vi uma menina que não poderia ter ainda oito.
Figure-se a mais bonita criança do mundo, com um vivo, agradável e alegre semblante, com cabelos negros e anelados voando ao derredor de seu pescoço, com o fogo do céu nos olhos, com o sorrir dos anjos nos lábios, com a graça divina em toda ela, e far-se-á ainda uma idéia incompleta dessa menina.
Ela estava à borda do mar e seu rosto voltado para ele; aproximei-me devagarinho. Uma criança viva e espirituosa, quando está quieta, é porque imagina novas travessuras ou combina os meios para executar alguma a que se opõe obstáculos; eu sabia isto por experiência própria; cheguei-me para saber em que pensava a menina; a pequena distância dela parei, porque já tinha adivinhado seu pensamento.
Na praia estava deposta uma concha, mas tão perto do mar, que quem a quisesse tomar e não fosse ligeiro e experiente se expunha a ser apanhado pelas ondas, que rebentavam com força, então.
Eu vi a travessa menina hesitar longo tempo entre o desejo de possuir a concha e o receio de ser molhada pelas vagas; depois pareceu haver tomado uma resolução: o capricho de criança tinha vencido. Com suas lindas mãozinhas arregaçou o vestido até aos joelhos, e quando a onda recuou, ela fez um movimento, mas ficou ainda no mesmo lugar, inclinada para diante e na ponta dos pés: segunda, terceira, quarta, quinta onda, e sempre a mesma cena de ataque e receio do inimigo. Finalmente, ao refluxo da sexta, ela precipitou-se sobre a concha; mas a areia escorregou debaixo de seus pés e a interessante menina caiu na praia, sem risco e com graça: erguendo-se logo e, espantada ao ver perto de si a nova onda, que desta vez vinha mansa e fraca como respeitosa, correu para trás e sem o pensar atirou-se nos meus braços, exclamando:
— Ah!... Eu ia morrer afogada!...
Depois, vendo-se com o vestido cheio de areia, começou a rir-se muito, sacudindo-o e dizendo ao mesmo tempo:
— Eu caí! Eu caí!...
E como se não bastasse esta passagem rápida do susto para o prazer, ela olhou de novo para o mar, e tornando-se levemente melancólica, balbuciou com voz pesarosa, apontando para a concha:
— Mas... a minha concha!...
Ouvindo a sua voz harmoniosa e vibrante, eu não quis saber de fluxos nem refluxos de ondas; corri para elas com entusiasmo e, radiante de prazer e felicidade, apresentei-me à linda menina, embora um pouco molhado, mas trazendo a concha desejada.
Este acontecimento fez-nos logo camaradas. Corremos a brincar juntos com toda essa confiança infantil que só pode nascer da inocência e que ainda em parte se dava em mim, posto que já esse tempo fosse eu um pouco velhaquete e sonso, como um estudante de latim que era, e por tal já procurava minhas blasfêmias no dicionário.
É sempre digno de observar-se esta tendência que têm as calças para o vestido! Desde a mais nova idade e no mais inocente brinquedo aparece o tal mútuo pendor dos sexos... e de mistura umas vergonhas muito engraçadas...
Eu cá sempre fui assim; quando brincava o tempo-sera, por exemplo, sempre preferia esconder-me atrás das portas com a menos bonita de minhas primas, do que com o mais formoso de meus amigos de infância.
Mas, como ia dizendo, nós brincamos juntos, corríamos e caíamos na areia, e depois ríamos ambos de nós mesmos. Tínhamos esquecido todo o mundo, e pensávamos somente em nos divertir, como os melhores amigos.
Depois de uma agradável hora passada em mil diversas travessuras, que nossa imaginação e inconstância de meninos modificava e inventava a cada momento, a minha interessante camarada voltou-se de repente para mim, e perguntou:
— Sou bonita, ou feia?...
Eu quis responder-lhe mil coisas... corei... e finalmente murmurei tremendo:
— Tão bonita!...
— Pois então, tornou-me ela, quando formos grandes, havemos de nos casar, sim?
— Oh!... Pois bem!...
— Havemos, continuou o lindo anjinho de oito anos, eu o quero... Olhe, o meu primo Juca me queria também, mas ainda ontem me quebrou a minha mais bonita boneca... Ora, o marido não deve quebrar as bonecas de sua mulher!... Eu quero, pois, me casar com o senhor, que há de apanhar bonitas conchinhas para mim... Além disso ele não tem, como o senhor, os cabelos louros nem a cor rosada...
— Porém eu gosto mais dos cabelos pretos...
— Melhor!... Melhor!... exclamou a menina, saltando de prazer. Olhe: os meus são pretos!
E nisto ela puxou com a sua pequena mãozinha um de seus belos anéis da madeixa, para mostrar-mo, e largando-o depois, eu vi cair outra vez em seu pescoço, de novo torcido como um caracol.
Ainda corremos mais e continuamos a brincar juntos; e, sem o pensar, nós nos esquecemos de procurar saber os nossos verdadeiros nomes, porque nos bastavam esses com que já nos tratávamos, de:meu marido, minha mulher!
A viveza, a graça e o espírito da encantadora menina tinham feito desaparecer meu natural acanhamento; nós estávamos como dois antigos camaradas, quando fomos interrompidos em nossas travessuras por um outro menino que para nós corria chorando.
— O que tem? perguntamos ambos.
— E meu pai que morre! exclamou ele, apontando para uma casinha que avistamos algumas braças distante de nos.
Ficamos um momento tristemente surpreendidos; depois, como dominados pelo mesmo pensamento, ela e eu dissemos a um tempo:
— Vamos lá.
E corremos para a pequena casa.
Entramos. Era um quadro de dor e luto que tínhamos ido ver. Uma pobre velha e três meninos, mal vestidos e magros, cercavam o leito em que jazia moribundo um ancião de cinqüenta anos, pouco mais ou menos. Pelo que agora posso concluir, uma síncope havia causado todo o movimento, pranto e desolação que observamos. Quando chegamos ao pé de seu leito, ele tornava a si.
— Ainda não morri, balbuciou, olhando com ternura para seus filhos, e deixando cair dos olhos grossas lágrimas. Depois, deparando conosco, continuou:
— Quem são estes dois meninos?...
Ninguém lhe respondeu, porque todos choravam, sem excetuar a minha bela camarada e eu.
— Não chorem ao pé de mim, exclamou o velho, sufocado em pranto e escondendo o rosto entre as mãos, enquanto seus três filhos e o quarto que tínhamos há pouco visto fora, se atiravam sobre ele, no excesso da maior, da mais nobre e da mais sublime das dores.
A minha camarada dirigiu-se então à velha.
— O que tem então ele?… perguntou com viva demonstração de interesse.
— Oh, meus meninos, respondeu a aflita velha, ele sofre uma enfermidade cruel, mas que poderia não ser mortal... porém e pobre!... E morre mais depressa pelo pesar de deixar seus filhos expostos à fome!... Morre de miséria!... Morre de fome!...
— Fome! exclamamos com espanto; fome! pois também morre-se de fome?...
E instintivamente a minha interessante companheira tirou do bolso do seu avental uma moeda de ouro e, dando-a à velha, disse:
— Foi meu padrinho que ma deu hoje de manhã... eu não preciso dela... não tenho fome.
E eu tirei do meu bolso uma nota, não me lembro de que valor, e por minha vez a entreguei, dizendo:
— Foi minha mãe que ma deu e ela me dá um abraço, sempre que faço esmolas aos pobres.
Não é possível descrever o que se passou então naquela miserável choupana. Minha linda mulher e eu tivemos de ser abraçados mil vezes, de ver de joelhos a nossos pés a velha e os meninos... Finalmente nós nos aproximamos dele, que nos apertou com entusiasmo contra o coração.
— Quem sois? pôde, enfim, dizer; quem sois?
— Duas crianças, foi a menina que respondeu.
— Dois anjos, tornou o velho. E quem é este menino?...
— É o meu camarada, disse ainda ela. Vosso irmão?
— Não senhor, meu… marido.
— Marido?
— Sim, eu quero que ele seja meu marido.
— Deus realize vossos desejos!...
Acabando de pronunciar estas palavras, o ancião guardou silêncio por alguns instantes… bebeu com sofreguidão um púcaro cheio de água e, olhando de novo para nós, e tendo no rosto um ar de inspiração e em suas palavras um acento profético, exclamou:
— Seja dado ao homem agonizante lançar seus últimos pensamentos do leito da morte, além dos anos, que já não serão para ele, e penetrar com seus olhares através do véu futuro... Meus filhos, amai-vos e amai-vos muito! A virtude se deve ajuntar, assim como o vício se procura; sim, amai-vos. Eu não vos iludo... vejo lá... bem longe… a promessa realizada! São dois anjos que se unem... vêde!... Os meninos que entraram na casa do miserável, que enxugaram o pranto e mataram a fome da indigência, são abençoados por Deus e unidos em nome d’Ele!... Meus filhos, eu os vejo casados lá no futuro!
— Oh!... Eis aí outra vez o delírio!… disse a velha, vendo a exaltação e o semblante afogueado do enfermo.
— Não, minha mãe, continuou ele; não! Não é delírio... Pois quê!... Não pode o Eterno abençoar a virtude pela minha boca?... Oh! Meus meninos! Deus paga sempre a esmola que se dá ao pobre!... Ainda uma vez… lá no futuro... vós o sentireis.
Nós estávamos espantados: o rosto do ancião se havia tornado rubro, seus olhos flamejantes... Seus lábios tremiam convulsivamente, sua mão rugosa tinha três vezes nos abençoado.
Escutando suas palavras, eu acreditei que estávamos ouvindo uma profecia infalivelmente realizável, pronunciada por um inspirado do Senhor.
Não parou aí a nossa admiração. O doente, cujas forças pareciam haver reaparecido subitamente, apoiando-se sobre um dos cotovelos, abriu a gaveta de uma mesa que estava junto
de seu leito, e tirando de uma pequena e antiga caixa dois breves, os deu à velha dizendo:
— Minha mãe, descosa esses dois breves.
A velha, obedecendo pontualmente, os descoseu com prontidão. Os breves eram dois: um verde e outro branco.
Depois o ancião, voltando-se para mim, disse:
Menino! Que trazeis convosco que possais oferecer a esta menina?...
Eu corri com os olhos tudo que em mim havia e só achei para entregar ao admirável homem que me falava um lindo alfinete de camafeu, que meu pai me tinha dado para trazer ao peito: maquinalmente, pus-lhe nas mãos o meu camafeu.
O velho quebrou o pé do alfinete e dando-o a sua mãe, acrescentou:
— Minha mãe, cosa dentro do breve branco este camafeu.
E voltando-se para minha bela camarada, continuou:
— Menina! Que trazeis convosco que possais oferecer a este menino?...
A menina, atilada e viva, como já esperando tal pergunta, entregou-lhe um botão de esmeralda que trazia em sua camisinha.
O velho o deu a sua mãe, dizendo:
— Minha mãe, cosa esta esmeralda dentro do breve verde.
Quando as ordens do ancião foram completamente executadas, ele tomou os dois breves e, dando-me o de cor branca, disse-me:
— Tomai este breve, cuja cor exprime a candura da alma daquela menina. Ele contém o vosso camafeu: se tendes bastante força para ser constante e amar para sempre aquele belo anjo, dai-lho a fim de que ela o guarde com desvelo.
Eu mal compreendi o que o velho queria: ainda maquinalmente entreguei o breve à linda menina, que o prendeu no cordão de ouro que trazia ao pescoço.
Chegou a vez dela. O homem deu-lhe o outro breve, dizendo:
— Tomai este breve, cuja cor exprime as esperanças do coração daquele menino. Ele contém a vossa esmeralda: se tendes bastante força para ser constante e amar para sempre aquele bom anjo, dai-lho, a fim de que ele o guarde com desvelo.
Minha bela mulher executou a insinuação do velho com prontidão, e eu prendi o breve ao meu pescoço, com uma fita que me deram.
Quando tudo isto estava feito, o velho prosseguiu ainda:
— Ide, meus meninos; crescei e sede felizes! Vós olhastes para mim, pobre e miserável, e Deus olhará para vós... Ah! Recebei a bênção de um moribundo!... Recebei-a e sai para não vê-lo expirar!
Isto dizendo, apertou nossas mãos com força: eu senti, então, que o velho ardia; senti que seu bafo era como vapor de água fervendo, que sua mão era uma brasa que queimava... Sinto ainda sobre os meus dedos o calor abrasador dos seus e agora compreendo que, com efeito, ele delirava quando assim praticou com duas crianças.
Enfim, nós deixamos aquela morada aflitos e admirados. Sós, nós pensamos no velho e choramos juntos; depois, nas crianças isto não merece reparo, a nossa dor se mitigou, para cuidarmos em brincar outra vez.
De repente a menina olhou para mim e disse:
— E quando minha mãe perguntar pela esmeralda?...
Eu cuidei que lhe respondia, e fiz-lhe igual pergunta:
— E quando meu pai perguntar pelo meu camafeu?
Ficamos olhando um para o outro; passados alguns instantes, minha linda mulher, que me parecera estar pensando, disse sorrindo-se.
— Eu vou pregar uma mentira.
— E qual?
— Eu direi a minha mãe que perdi a minha esmeralda na praia.
— E eu responderei a meu pai que perdi o meu camafeu nas pedras.
— Eles mandarão procurar, sem dúvida...
— E, não o achando, esquecer-se-ão disso.
— E os breves?... Nós os guardaremos?...
— O velho disse que sim. Para que será isto?...
— Disse que é para nos casarmos quando formos grandes.
— Pois então nós os guardaremos.
— Oh! Eu o prometo.
— Eu o juro.
Neste momento soou ave-maria.
— Tão tarde! exclamou a menina…minha mãe ralhará comigo!
E, dizendo isto, correu, esquecendo-se até de despedir-se de mim. Esse fatal descuido acabava de entristecer-me, quando ela, já de longe, voltou-se para onde eu estava e, mostrando-me o breve branco, gritou:
— Eu o guardarei!
Pela minha parte entendi dever dar-lhe igual resposta, e, pois, mostrei-lhe o meu breve verde e gritei-lhe também:
— Eu o guardarei!
Aqui parou Augusto para respirar, tão cansado estava com a longa narração; porém ergueu-se logo, ouvindo à entrada da gruta.
— Alguém nos escuta! disse ele.
— Foi talvez uma ilusão! respondeu a digna hóspeda.
— Não, minha senhora; eu ouvi distintamente a bulha que faz uma pessoa que corre, tornou Augusto dirigindo-se à entrada da gruta e observando em derredor dela.
— Então?... perguntou a sra. d. Ana.
— Enganei-me, na verdade.
— Mas vê alguma pessoa?...
— Apenas lá vejo sua bela neta, a sra. d. Carolina, pensativa e recostada à efígie da Esperança.
CAP. VIII - AUGUSTO PROSSEGUINDO
A avó de Filipe quis tomar, por sua vez, a palavra; porém o estudante lhe fez ver que ainda muito faltava para o fim de suas histórias, e voltando de novo ao seu lugar, continuou:
— O acontecimento que acabo de relatar, minha senhora, produziu vivíssima impressão no meu espírito; ajudado por minha memória de menino de treze anos, apenas entrei em casa escrevi, palavra por palavra, quanto me havia acontecido. isto me tirou o trabalho de mentir, porque adormecendo sobre o papel que acabava de escrever, meu pai o leu à sua vontade e soube o destino do camafeu, sem precisar que eu lhe dissesse. Ele ainda estava junto de mim quando despertei, exclamando: o meu breve!… o velho!... minha mulher!...
Anda, doidinho, disse-me meu pai com bondade; eu te perdôo as novas loucuras, em louvor da ação que praticaste, socorrendo um velho enfermo; agora, guarda, eu to peço, e mesmo to mando, guarda melhor esse breve do que guardaste o camafeu.
E isto dizendo, deixou-me.
Não se falou mais neste acontecimento; soube que o velho morrera no dia seguinte e que no momento da agonia abençoara de novo a minha camarada e a mim.
Meu pai fez todas as despesas do enterro do velho e socorreu a sua desgraçada família.
Eu nunca mais vi, nem tive notícia alguma da minha interessante camarada, mas nem por isso a esqueci, minha senhora... porque, ou seja que meu coração a tivesse amado deveras, ou que esse breve tivesse alguma coisa de encantador, o certo é que eu ainda hoje me lembro com saudades dessa criança tão travessa, porém tão bela. Sem saber seu nome, pois nem lho perguntei, nem ela mo disse, quando quero falar a seu respeito, digo sempre: a minha mulher! Riem-se... não me importa: eu não posso dizer de outro modo.
Sempre com sua imagem na minha alma, com seu engraçado sorriso diante de meus olhos, com suas sonoras palavras soando a meus ouvidos, passei cinco anos pensando nela de dia, e com ela sonhando de noite; era uma loucura, mas que havia eu de fazer?... Cheguei assim aos meus dezoito anos.
Eu já era, pois, mancebo. Meus pais nada poupavam para me educar convenientemente, e eu aprendia quanto me vinha à cabeça; diziam que a minha voz era sonora, e por tal convidavam-me para cantar em elegantes sociedades; julgavam que eu dançava com graça e lá ia eu para os bailes; finalmente, como cheguei a fazer algumas quadras, pediam-me recitar sonetos em dias de anos, e assim introduziram-me em mil reuniões, onde as belezas formigavam e os amores eram dardejados por brilhantes olhos de todas as cores.
Além disto freqüentava as casas de meus companheiros de estudos e os ouvia contar proezas de paixões, triunfos e derrotas amorosas. Meu amor-próprio se despertou, e tive vontade de amar e ser amado.
Julguei esta minha determinação ainda mais justa, pois tendo ido passar certas férias na roça, e falando mil vezes no meu breve e em minha mulher, ouvi minha mãe dizer uma vez, cru que me julgava longe:
— Temo que esse breve tire o juízo àquele menino; talvez que nos seja preciso casá-lo cedo.
Portanto, para não ouvir somente, mas também para contar alguma vitória de amor, para não endoidecer por causa do breve e, finalmente, para não ser necessário à minha mãe casar-me cedo, determinei-me a amar.
— Esqueceu-se, por conseqüência, de sua mulher e do seu breve! perguntou a sra. d. Ana, interrompendo Augusto.
— Ao contrário, minha senhora, tornou este; foi essa minha resolução que me tornou mais firme e mais amante de minha mulher.
Não sei, continuou Augusto, que teve o amor comigo. para entender que todas as moças deviam rir-se de mim e zombar de meus afetos! Pensa que brinco, minha senhora?... Pois tüi isso mesmo que me sucedeu no decurso de minhas paixões. Eu resumo algumas.
A primeira moça que amei era uma bela moreninha, de dezesseis anos de idade. Fiz-lhe a minha declaração na carta mais patética que um pateta poderia conceber, no fim de três dias recebi uma resposta abrasadora e cheia de protestos de gratidão e ternura; meu coração se entusiasmou com isso... Na primeira reunião de estudantes contei a minha vitória, li a minha carta e a resposta que havia recebido. Fui vivamente aplaudido; porém, oito dias depois, os mesmos estudantes quase me quebraram a cabeça com cacholetas e gargalhadas, porque oito dias, bem contadinhos, depois dessa resposta, a minha terna amada casou-se com um velho de sessenta anos. Jurei não amar moça nenhuma que tivesse a cor morena.
Apaixonei-me logo e fui, desgraçadamente, correspondido por uma interessante jovem tão coradinha, que parecia mesmo uma rosa francesa, Nós nos encontrávamos nas noites dos sábados em certa casa, onde se dava todas as semanas uma partida; era a mais agradável sabatina que podia ter um estudante; porém o meu novo amor chegava a ser tocante demais, e a minha querida levava o ciúme até um ponto que me atormentava prodigiosamente: se passava algum dia em que não a visse e lhe não mandasse uma flor, aparecia-me depois chorosa e abatida; se na tal partida eu me atrevia a dançar com alguma outra moça bonita, era contar com um desmaio certo, e desmaio de que não acordava sem que eu mesmo lhe chegasse ao nariz o seu vidrinho de essência de rosas; tudo mais era por este teor e forma. Este amor já estava um pouco velho, certamente, tinha três meses de idade. Um sábado mandei-lhe prevenir que faltaria à partida; mas tendo terminado cedo meus trabalhos, não pude resistir ao desejo de vê-la e fui à reunião; eram onze horas da noite quando entrei na sala, procurei-a com os olhos e certo moço, com quem me dava, que me entendeu, apontou para um gabinete vizinho. Voei para ele.
Ela estava sentada junto de um mancebo e com as costas voltadas para a porta; tomavam sorvetes. Cheguei-me de manso:conversavam os dois, sem vergonha nenhuma, em seus amores!
Fiquei espantado e tanto mais que, pelo que ouvi, eles já se correspondiam há muito tempo; mas o meu espanto se tornou em fúria quando ouvi o machacaz falar no meu nome, fingindo-se zeloso, e receber em resposta as seguintes palavras: — Augustozinho?... Lamente-o antes, coitado! É um pobre menino com quem me divirto nas horas vagas! ... Soltei um surdo gemido; a traidora olhou para mim e, voltando-se depois para o seu querido, disse com o maior sangue frio: — Ora, aí tem! Perdi por sua causa este divertimento.
Jurei não amar moça nenhuma de cor rosada. Sem emendar-me, ainda tornei-me cego amante de uma jovem pálida, e, como das outras vezes, fui correspondido com ardor; mas desta tive eu provas de afeto muito sérias. Antes de ver-me, ela amava um primo e até escrevia-lhe a miúdo; eu exigi que a minha terceira amada continuasse a receber cartas dele e que as respondesse; consentiu nisso, com a condição de lhe redigir eu as respostas. Belo! disse eu comigo: vou também divertir-me por minha vez à custa de um amante infeliz!
E o negócio ficou assentado.
Infelizmente eu não conhecia o primo da minha amada, mas essa era a infelicidade mais tolerável possível.
Um dia tratamos de encontrar-nos em certa igreja, onde tinha de haver esplêndida festa; cheguei cedo, mas logo depois de minha chegada rebentou uma tempestade e choveu prodigiosamente. Pouco durou o mau tempo, porém as ruas deveriam ter ficado alagadas e a bela esperada não podia vir; apesar disso eu olhava a todos os momentos para a porta e, coisa notável, sempre encontrava os olhos de um outro moço, que se dirigiam também para lá; acabada a festa, ambos nos aproximamos.
— Nós devemos ser amigos, disse ele.
— Eu penso do mesmo modo, respondi.
E apertamos as mãos.
— Sou capaz de jurar que adivinho a razão por que o senhor olhava tanto para aquela porta, continuou ele.
— E eu também.
Convenho: esperávamos ambos nossas amadas e a chuva mangaram conosco.
— Exatamente.
— Mas nós vamos, sem dúvida, vingar-nos, indo agora vê-las à janela.
— Eu queria propor a mesma vingança.
Bravo! ... Iremos juntos... Onde mora a sua?...
— Na rua de...
— Ainda melhor... a minha é na mesma rua.
Saímos da igreja, embraçamo-nos e fomos. A minha amada morava perto, eu avistei-a debruçada na janela, talvez me esperando, pois olhava para o lado donde eu vinha; abri a boca para dizer ao meu novo amigo:.é aquela!... Quando ele me pronunciou com indizível prazer: é aquela!
Julgue, minha senhora, da minha exasperação! Pela terceira vez eu era a boneca de uma menina!...
Não sei por que ainda tive ânimo de tirar o meu chapéu à tal pálida, que ao menos dessa vez se fez cor-de-rosa, talvez por ver-me de braço com o novo amigo.
Passando a maldita casa, Jorge, que assim se chamava o moço, disse-me com fogo:
— Aquela jovem adora-me!
— Está certo disso, meu amigo?
— Tenho provas.
— Acredita muito nelas?
— Tenho as mais fortes; por último recebi ainda a de maior confiança: eu lhe conto. Um estudante a requestou e escreveu-lhe; ela mandou-me a carta, e eu respondi em seu lugar. A correspondência tem continuado por minha vontade e sou eu quem sempre faço a norma das cartas que ela deve escrever; achará isto imprudência, e eu acho um belo divertimento.
— Sim... um belo divertimento...
— Mas que é isso? Está tão pálido!
— Não é coisa de cuidado... Eu... ora... o estudante...
— É por certo um famoso pateta...
— Não é bom ir tão longe...
— Não tem dúvida… é um tolo rematado.
— Fale-me a verdade: eu acho aquela moça com cara de ser sua prima.
— Quem lhe disse?... E, com efeito, minha prima!
— Pois vamos à minha casa.
— E a sua amada?...
— Não me fale mais nela.
Apenas chegamos à minha casa, abri uma gaveta, e tirando dela todas as cartas que Jorge havia escrito à sua prima, e que ela me tinha mandado, assim como as normas que eu redigira para as que deveriam ser enviadas ao meu amigo, acrescentando:
— Concordemos ambos que, se o estudante foi um famoso pateta e um tolo rematado, não o foi menos o primo daquela senhora a quem cortejamos na rua de...
Jorge devorou todas as cartas e normas que lhe dei; depois desatou a rir e, abraçando-me, exclamou:
— Concordemos também, caro estudante, que minha prima tem bastante habilidade para se corresponder com meio mundo, sem se incomodar com o trabalho da redação de suas cartas!
O bom humor de Jorge tornou-me alegre. Jantamos juntos, rimo-nos todo o dia, e só de noite se retirou.
Tratei de dormir, mas, antes de adormecer, falei ainda comigo mesmo: juro que não hei de amar a moça nenhuma de cor pálida.
Desde então declarei guerra ao amor, minha senhora; tornei-me ao que era dantes, isto é, ocupei-me somente em me lembrar de minha mulher e em beijar o meu breve.
Mas eu andava triste e abatido e às vezes pensava assim: ora, pois jurei não amar moça nenhuma que fosse morena, corada ou pálida: estas são as cores, estes são os tipos da beleza... e, portanto, minha mulher terá, a pesar meu, uma das tais cores; logo não me caso com minha mulher e, em última conclusão, serei celibatário; vou ser frade... frade!
Minha tristeza, meu abatimento deu nos olhos da digna, jovial e espirituosa esposa de um de meus bons amigos. Ela me pediu que lhe confiasse as minhas penas e eu não pude deixar de relatar estes três fatos à consorte de um caro amigo.
A única consolação que tive foi vê-la correr para o piano, e ouvi-la cantar as seguintes e outras quadrinhas musicadas no gosto nacional:
I
Menina solteira
Que almeja casar
Não caia em amar
A homem algum;
Nem se/a notável
Por sua esquivança,
Não tire a esperança
De amante nenhum.
II
Mereçam-lhe todos
Olhares ardentes,
Suspiros ferventes
Bem pode soltar:
Não negue a nenhum
Protestos de amor;
A qualquer que for
O pode jurar.
III
Os velhos não devem
Formar exceção,
Porquanto eles são
Um grande partido;
Que, em falta de moço
Que fortuna faça,
Nunca foi desgraça
Um velho marido.
IV
Ciúmes e zelos,
Amor e ternura
Não será loucura
Fingida estudar;
Assim ganhar tudo
Moças se tem vis/o,
Serve muito isto
Antes de casar.
V
Contra os ardilosos
Oponha seu brio:
Tenha sangue frio
Pra saber fugir;
Eu, todos os casos
Sempre deve estar
Pronta pra chorar,
Pronta para rir.
VI
Pode bem a moça,
Assim praticando,.
Dos homens zombando,
A vida passar;
Mas, se aparecer
Algum toleirão,
Sem mais reflexão,
É logo casar.
— Então o negócio é assim, minha senhora? exclamei eu, ao vê-la levantar-se do piano.
— Certamente, me respondeu ela; é este, pouco mais ou menos, o breviário por onde reza a totalidade das moças.
— Fico-lhe extremamente agradecido pelo desengano.
— Estimo que lhe sirva de muito.
— Já serve, minha senhora; já tirei grande proveito dele.
— E como?
— Escute. Abatido e desesperado com os meus infortúnios, eu tinha jurado não amar a mais nenhuma moça que fosse morena, corada ou pálida: estavam, pois, esgotados os belos tipos... eu deveria morrer celibatário.
— E agora?...
— Agora?... Graças ao seu lundu, juro que de hoje avante amarei a todas elas... morenas, coradas, magras e gordas, cortesãs ou roceiras, feias ou bonitas… tudo serve.
— E, com efeito, minha senhora, continuou Augusto, dirigindo-se à sra. d. Ana, fiz-me absolutamente um ser novo, graças ao lundu; guardando e beijando com desvelo o meu querido breve, que sempre comigo trago, eu conservo a lembrança mais terna e constante de minha mulher: ela é o amor de meu coração, enquanto todas as outras são divertimentos dos meus olhos e o passatempo de minha vida. Eis, finalmente, a história de meus amores!... Tais foram as razões que me tornaram borboleta de amor.
Terminando assim, Augusto ia respirar um instante, quando pela segunda vez lhe pareceu ouvir ruído na porta da gruta.
— Alguém nos escuta, disse ele, como da outra vez.
— E talvez uma nova ilusão... respondeu a digna hóspeda.
— Não, minha senhora; eu ouvi distintamente a bulha de uma pessoa que corre, tornou Augusto, dirigindo-se à entrada da gruta e observando ao derredor dela.
Então?... perguntou a sra. d. Ana.
— Enganei-me, na verdade.
— Mas vê alguém?...
— Apenas lá vejo a sua bela neta, a sra. d. Carolina, que se precipita com a maior graça do mundo sobre uma borboleta que lhe foge, e que ela procura prender.
— Uma borboleta...
O! never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seemed my flame to qualify,
As easy might I from my self depart
As from my soul which in thy breast doth lie:
That is my home of love: if I have ranged,
Like him that travels, I return again;
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe though in my nature reigned,
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stained,
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
For nothing this wide universe I call,
Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all.
Chapter 97
fire of charcoal—the new-comer—no wonder!—not a blacksmith—a love affair—gretna green—a cool thousand—family estates—borough interest—grand education—let us hear—already quarrelling—honourable parents—not common people
It might be about ten o'clock at night. Belle, the postilion, and myself, sat just within the tent, by a fire of charcoal which I had kindled in the chafing-pan. The man had removed the harness from his horses, and, after tethering their legs, had left them for the night in the field above to regale themselves on what grass they could find. The rain had long since entirely ceased, and the moon and stars shone bright in the firmament, up to which, putting aside the canvas, I occasionally looked from the depths of the dingle. Large drops of water, however, falling now and then upon the tent from the neighbouring trees, would have served, could we have forgotten it, to remind us of the recent storm, and also a certain chilliness in the atmosphere, unusual to the season, proceeding from the moisture with which the ground was saturated; yet these circumstances only served to make our party enjoy the charcoal fire the more. There we sat bending over it: Belle, with her long beautiful hair streaming over her magnificent shoulders; the postilion smoking his pipe, in his shirt-sleeves and waistcoat, having flung aside his greatcoat, which had sustained a thorough wetting, and I without my wagoner's slop, of which, it being in the same plight, I had also divested myself.
The new-comer was a well-made fellow of about thirty, with an open and agreeable countenance. I found him very well informed for a man in his station, and with some pretensions to humour. After we had discoursed for some time on indifferent subjects, the postilion, who had exhausted his pipe, took it from his mouth, and, knocking out the ashes upon the ground, exclaimed, 'I little thought, when I got up in the morning, that I should spend the night in such agreeable company, and after such a fright.'
'Well,' said I, 'I am glad that your opinion of us has improved; it is not long since you seemed to hold us in rather a suspicious light.'
'And no wonder,' said the man, 'seeing the place you were taking me to! I was not a little, but very much afraid of ye both; and so I continued for some time, though, not to show a craven heart, I pretended to be quite satisfied; but I see I was altogether mistaken about ye. I thought you vagrant gypsy folks and trampers; but now—'
'Vagrant gypsy folks and trampers,' said I; 'and what are we but people of that stamp?'
'Oh,' said the postilion, 'if you wish to be thought such, I am far too civil a person to contradict you, especially after your kindness to me, but—'
'But!' said I; 'what do you mean by but? I would have you to know that I am proud of being a travelling blacksmith; look at these donkey-shoes, I finished them this day.'
The postilion took the shoes and examined them. 'So you made these shoes?' he cried at last.
'To be sure I did; do you doubt it?'
'Not in the least,' said the man.
'Ah! ah!' said I, 'I thought I should bring you back to your original opinion. I am, then, a vagrant gypsy body, a tramper, a wandering blacksmith.'
'Not a blacksmith, whatever else you may be,' said the postilion, laughing.
'Then how do you account for my making those shoes?'
'By your not being a blacksmith,' said the postilion; 'no blacksmith would have made shoes in that manner. Besides, what did you mean just now by saying you had finished these shoes to-day? A real blacksmith would have flung off three or four sets of donkey-shoes in one morning, but you, I will be sworn, have been hammering at these for days, and they do you credit—but why?—because you are no blacksmith; no, friend, your shoes may do for this young gentlewoman's animal, but I shouldn't like to have my horses shod by you, unless at a great pinch indeed.'
'Then,' said I, 'for what do you take me?'
'Why, for some runaway young gentleman,' said the postilion. 'No offence, I hope?'
'None at all; no one is offended at being taken or mistaken for a young gentleman, whether runaway or not; but from whence do you suppose I have run away?'
'Why, from college,' said the man: 'no offence?'
'None whatever; and what induced me to run away from college?'
'A love affair, I'll be sworn,' said the postilion. 'You had become acquainted with this young gentlewoman, so she and you—'
'Mind how you get on, friend,' said Belle, in a deep serious tone.
'Pray proceed,' said I; 'I daresay you mean no offence.'
'None in the world,' said the postilion; 'all I was going to say was, that you agreed to run away together, you from college, and she from boarding-school. Well, there's nothing to be ashamed of in a matter like that, such things are done every day by young folks in high life.'
'Are you offended?' said I to Belle.
Belle made no answer; but, placing her elbows on her knees, buried her face in her hands.
'So we ran away together?' said I.
'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'to Gretna Green, though I can't say that I drove ye, though I have driven many a pair.'
'And from Gretna Green we came here?'
'I'll be bound you did,' said the man, 'till you could arrange matters at home.'
'And the horse-shoes?' said I.
'The donkey-shoes you mean,' answered the postilion; 'why, I suppose you persuaded the blacksmith who married you to give you, before you left, a few lessons in his trade.'
'And we intend to stay here till we have arranged matters at home?'
'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'till the old people are pacified, and they send you letters directed to the next post town, to be left till called for, beginning with “Dear children,” and enclosing you each a cheque for one hundred pounds, when you will leave this place, and go home in a coach like gentlefolks, to visit your governors; I should like nothing better than to have the driving of you: and then there will be a grand meeting of the two families, and after a few reproaches, the old people will agree to do something handsome for the poor thoughtless things; so you will have a genteel house taken for you, and an annuity allowed you. You won't get much the first year, five hundred at the most, in order that the old folks may let you feel that they are not altogether satisfied with you, and that you are yet entirely in their power; but the second, if you don't get a cool thousand, may I catch cold, especially should young madam here present a son and heir for the old people to fondle, destined one day to become sole heir of the two illustrious houses; and then all the grand folks in the neighbourhood, who have—bless their prudent hearts!—kept rather aloof from you till then, for fear you should want anything from them—I say all the carriage people in the neighbourhood, when they see how swimmingly matters are going on, will come in shoals to visit you.'
'Really,' said I, 'you are getting on swimmingly.'
'Oh,' said the postilion, 'I was not a gentleman's servant nine years without learning the ways of gentry, and being able to know gentry when I see them.'
'And what do you say to all this?' I demanded of Belle.
'Stop a moment,' interposed the postilion, 'I have one more word to say:—and when you are surrounded by your comforts, keeping your nice little barouche and pair, your coachman and livery servant, and visited by all the carriage people in the neighbourhood—to say nothing of the time when you come to the family estates on the death of the old people—I shouldn't wonder if now and then you look back with longing and regret to the days when you lived in the damp dripping dingle, had no better equipage than a pony or donkey cart, and saw no better company than a tramper or gypsy, except once, when a poor postilion was glad to seat himself at your charcoal fire.'
'Pray,' said I, 'did you ever take lessons in elocution?'
'Not directly,' said the postilion; 'but my old master, who was in Parliament, did, and so did his son, who was intended to be an orator. A great professor used to come and give them lessons, and I used to stand and listen, by which means I picked up a considerable quantity of what is called rhetoric. In what I last said, I was aiming at what I have heard him frequently endeavouring to teach my governors as a thing indispensably necessary in all oratory, a graceful pere—pere—peregrination.'
'Peroration, perhaps?'
'Just so,' said the postilion; 'and now I'm sure I am not mistaken about you; you have taken lessons yourself, at first hand, in the college vacations, and a promising pupil you were, I make no doubt. Well, your friends will be all the happier to get you back. Has your governor much borough interest?'
'I ask you once more,' said I, addressing myself to Belle, 'what you think of the history which this good man has made for us?'
'What should I think of it,' said Belle, still keeping her face buried in her hands, 'but that it is mere nonsense?'
'Nonsense!' said the postilion.
'Yes,' said the girl, 'and you know it.'
'May my leg always ache, if I do,' said the postilion, patting his leg with his hand; 'will you persuade me that this young man has never been at college?'
'I have never been at college, but—'
'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'but—'
'I have been to the best schools in Britain, to say nothing of a celebrated one in Ireland.'
'Well, then, it comes to the same thing,' said the postilion, 'or perhaps you know more than if you had been at college—and your governor—'
'My governor, as you call him,' said I, 'is dead.'
'And his borough interest?'
'My father had no borough interest,' said I; 'had he possessed any, he would perhaps not have died, as he did, honourably poor.'
'No, no,' said the postilion, 'if he had had borough interest, he wouldn't have been poor, nor honourable, though perhaps a right honourable. However, with your grand education and genteel manners, you made all right at last by persuading this noble young gentlewoman to run away from boarding-school with you.'
'I was never at boarding-school,' said Belle, 'unless you call—'
'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'boarding-school is vulgar, I know: I beg your pardon, I ought to have called it academy, or by some other much finer name—you were in something much greater than a boarding-school.'
'There you are right,' said Belle, lifting up her head and looking the postilion full in the face by the light of the charcoal fire, 'for I was bred in the workhouse.'
'Wooh!' said the postilion.
'It is true that I am of good—'
'Ay, ay,' said the postilion, 'let us hear—'
'Of good blood,' continued Belle; 'my name is Berners, Isopel Berners, though my parents were unfortunate. Indeed, with respect to blood, I believe I am of better blood than the young man.'
'There you are mistaken,' said I; 'by my father's side I am of Cornish blood, and by my mother's of brave French Protestant extraction. Now, with respect to the blood of my father—and to be descended well on the father's side is the principal thing—it is the best blood in the world, for the Cornish blood, as the proverb says—'
'I don't care what the proverb says,' said Belle; 'I say my blood is the best—my name is Berners, Isopel Berners—it was my mother's name, and is better, I am sure, than any you bear, whatever that may be; and though you say that the descent on the father's side is the principal thing—and I know why you say so,' she added with some excitement—'I say that descent on the mother's side is of most account, because the mother—'
'Just come from Gretna Green, and already quarrelling!' said the postilion.
'We do not come from Gretna Green,' said Belle.
'Ah, I had forgot,' said the postilion; 'none but great people go to Gretna Green. Well, then, from church, and already quarrelling about family, just like two great people.'
'We have never been to church,' said Belle; 'and to prevent any more guessing on your part, it will be as well for me to tell you, friend, that I am nothing to the young man, and he, of course, nothing to me. I am a poor travelling girl, born in a workhouse: journeying on my occasions with certain companions, I came to this hollow, where my company quarrelled with the young man, who had settled down here, as he had a right to do if he pleased; and not being able to drive him out, they went away after quarrelling with me, too, for not choosing to side with them; so I stayed here along with the young man, there being room for us both, and the place being as free to me as to him.'
'And in order that you may be no longer puzzled with respect to myself,' said I; 'I will give you a brief outline of my history. I am the son of honourable parents, who gave me a first-rate education, as far as literature and languages went, with which education I endeavoured, on the death of my father, to advance myself to wealth and reputation in the big city; but failing in the attempt, I conceived a disgust for the busy world, and determined to retire from it. After wandering about for some time, and meeting with various adventures, in one of which I contrived to obtain a pony, cart, and certain tools used by smiths and tinkers, I came to this place, where I amused myself with making horse-shoes, or rather pony-shoes, having acquired the art of wielding the hammer and tongs from a strange kind of smith—not him of Gretna Green—whom I knew in my childhood. And here I lived, doing harm to no one, quite lonely and solitary, till one fine morning the premises were visited by this young gentlewoman and her companions. She did herself anything but justice when she said that her companions quarrelled with her because she would not side with them against me; they quarrelled with her because she came most heroically to my assistance as I was on the point of being murdered; and she forgot to tell you that, after they had abandoned her, she stood by me in the dark hour, comforting and cheering me, when unspeakable dread, to which I am occasionally subject, took possession of my mind. She says she is nothing to me, even as I am nothing to her. I am of course nothing to her, but she is mistaken in thinking she is nothing to me. I entertain the highest regard and admiration for her, being convinced that I might search the whole world in vain for a nature more heroic and devoted.'
'And for my part,' said Belle, with a sob, 'a more quiet agreeable partner in a place like this I would not wish to have; it is true he has strange ways, and frequently puts words into my mouth very difficult to utter, but—but—' and here she buried her face once more in her hands.
'Well,' said the postilion, 'I have been mistaken about you; that is, not altogether, but in part. You are not rich folks, it seems, but you are not common people, and that I could have sworn. What I call a shame is, that some people I have known are not in your place and you in theirs, you with their estates and borough interest, they in this dingle with these carts and animals; but there is no help for these things. Were I the great Mumbo Jumbo above, I would endeavour to manage matters better; but being a simple postilion, glad to earn three shillings a day, I can't be expected to do much.'
'Who is Mumbo Jumbo?' said I.
'Ah!' said the postilion, 'I see there may be a thing or two I know better than yourself. Mumbo Jumbo is a god of the black coast, to which people go for ivory and gold.'
'Were you ever there?' I demanded.
'No,' said the postilion, 'but I heard plenty of Mumbo Jumbo when I was a boy.'
'I wish you would tell us something about yourself. I believe that your own real history would prove quite as entertaining, if not more, than that which you imagined about us.'
'I am rather tired,' said the postilion, 'and my leg is rather troublesome. I should be glad to try to sleep upon one of your blankets. However, as you wish to hear something about me, I shall be happy to oblige you; but your fire is rather low, and this place is chilly.'
Thereupon I arose, and put fresh charcoal on the pan; then taking it outside the tent, with a kind of fan which I had fashioned, I fanned the coals into a red glow, and continued doing so until the greater part of the noxious gas, which the coals are in the habit of exhaling, was exhausted. I then brought it into the tent and reseated myself, scattering over the coals a small portion of sugar. 'No bad smell,' said the postilion; 'but upon the whole I think I like the smell of tobacco better; and with your permission I will once more light my pipe.'
Thereupon he relighted his pipe; and, after taking two or three whiffs, began in the following manner.
Chapter 98
an exordium—fine ships—high barbary captains—free-born englishmen—monstrous figure—swashbuckler—the grand coaches—the footmen—a travelling expedition—black jack—nelson's cannon—pharaoh's butler—a diligence—two passengers—sharking priest—virgilio—lessons in italian—two opinions—holy mary—priestly confederates—methodist—like a sepulchre—all for themselves
'I am a poor postilion, as you see; yet, as I have seen a thing or two and heard a thing or two of what is going on in the world, perhaps what I have to tell you connected with myself may not prove altogether uninteresting. Now, my friends, this manner of opening a story is what the man who taught rhetoric would call a hex—hex—'
'Exordium,' said I.
'Just so,' said the postilion; 'I treated you to a per—per—peroration some time ago, so that I have contrived to put the cart before the horse, as the Irish orators frequently do in the honourable House, in whose speeches, especially those who have taken lessons in rhetoric, the per—per—what's the word?—frequently goes before the exordium.
'I was born in the neighbouring county; my father was land-steward to a squire of about a thousand a year. My father had two sons, of whom I am the youngest by some years. My elder brother was of a spirited roving disposition, and for fear that he should turn out what is generally termed ungain, my father determined to send him to sea: so once upon a time, when my brother was about fifteen, he took him to the great seaport of the county, where he apprenticed him to a captain of one of the ships which trade to the high Barbary coast. Fine ships they were, I have heard say, more than thirty in number, and all belonging to a wonderful great gentleman, who had once been a parish boy, but had contrived to make an immense fortune by trading to that coast for gold-dust, ivory, and other strange articles; and for doing so, I mean for making a fortune, had been made a knight baronet. So my brother went to the high Barbary shore, on board the fine vessel, and in about a year returned and came to visit us; he repeated the voyage several times, always coming to see his parents on his return. Strange stories he used to tell us of what he had been witness to on the high Barbary coast, both off shore and on. He said that the fine vessel in which he sailed was nothing better than a painted hell; that the captain was a veritable fiend, whose grand delight was in tormenting his men, especially when they were sick, as they frequently were, there being always fever on the high Barbary coast; and that though the captain was occasionally sick himself, his being so made no difference, or rather it did make a difference, though for the worse, he being when sick always more inveterate and malignant than at other times. He said that once, when he himself was sick, his captain had pitched his face all over, which exploit was much applauded by the other high Barbary captains—all of whom, from what my brother said, appeared to be of much the same disposition as my brother's captain, taking wonderful delight in tormenting the crews, and doing all manner of terrible things. My brother frequently said that nothing whatever prevented him from running away from his ship, and never returning, but the hope he entertained of one day being captain himself, and able to torment people in his turn, which he solemnly vowed he would do, as a kind of compensation for what he himself had undergone. And if things were going on in a strange way off the high Barbary shore amongst those who came there to trade, they were going on in a way yet stranger with the people who lived upon it.
'Oh the strange ways of the black men who lived on that shore, of which my brother used to tell us at home—selling their sons, daughters, and servants for slaves, and the prisoners taken in battle, to the Spanish captains, to be carried to Havannah, and when there, sold at a profit, the idea of which, my brother said, went to the hearts of our own captains, who used to say what a hard thing it was that free-born Englishmen could not have a hand in the traffic, seeing that it was forbidden by the laws of their country; talking fondly of the good old times when their forefathers used to carry slaves to Jamaica and Barbadoes, realising immense profit, besides the pleasure of hearing their shrieks on the voyage; and then the superstitions of the blacks, which my brother used to talk of; their sharks' teeth, their wisps of fowls' feathers, their half-baked pots full of burnt bones, of which they used to make what they called fetish, and bow down to, and ask favours of, and then, perhaps, abuse and strike, provided the senseless rubbish did not give them what they asked for; and then, above all, Mumbo Jumbo, the grand fetish master, who lived somewhere in the woods, and who used to come out every now and then with his fetish companions; a monstrous figure, all wound round with leaves and branches, so as to be quite indistinguishable, and, seating himself on the high seat in the villages, receive homage from the people, and also gifts and offerings, the most valuable of which were pretty damsels, and then betake himself back again, with his followers, into the woods. Oh the tales that my brother used to tell us of the high Barbary shore! Poor fellow! what became of him I can't say; the last time he came back from a voyage, he told us that his captain, as soon as he had brought his vessel to port and settled with his owner, drowned himself off the quay, in a fit of the horrors, which it seems high Barbary captains, after a certain number of years, are much subject to. After staying about a month with us, he went to sea again, with another captain; and, bad as the old one had been, it appears the new one was worse, for, unable to bear his treatment, my brother left his ship off the high Barbary shore, and ran away up the country. Some of his comrades, whom we afterwards saw, said that there were various reports about him on the shore; one that he had taken on with Mumbo Jumbo, and was serving him in his house in the woods, in the capacity of swashbuckler, or life-guardsman; another, that he was gone in quest of a mighty city in the heart of the negro country; another, that in swimming a stream he had been devoured by an alligator. Now, these two last reports were bad enough; the idea of their flesh and blood being bit asunder by a ravenous fish was sad enough to my poor parents; and not very comfortable was the thought of his sweltering over the hot sands in quest of the negro city; but the idea of their son, their eldest child, serving Mumbo Jumbo as swashbuckler was worst of all, and caused my poor parents to shed many a scalding tear.
'I stayed at home with my parents until I was about eighteen, assisting my father in various ways. I then went to live at the Squire's, partly as groom, partly as footman. After living in the country some time, I attended the family in a trip of six weeks which they made to London. Whilst there, happening to have some words with an old ill-tempered coachman, who had been for a great many years in the family, my master advised me to leave, offering to recommend me to a family of his acquaintance, who were in need of a footman. I was glad to accept his offer, and in a few days went to my new place. My new master was one of the great gentry, a baronet in Parliament, and possessed of an estate of about twenty thousand a year; his family consisted of his lady, a son, a fine young man just coming of age, and two very sweet amiable daughters. I liked this place much better than my first, there was so much more pleasant noise and bustle—so much more grand company, and so many more opportunities of improving myself. Oh, how I liked to see the grand coaches drive up to the door, with the grand company; and though, amidst that company, there were some who did not look very grand, there were others, and not a few, who did. Some of the ladies quite captivated me; there was the Marchioness of —— in particular. This young lady puts me much in mind of her; it is true, the Marchioness, as I saw her then, was about fifteen years older than this young gentlewoman is now, and not so tall by some inches, but she had the very same hair, and much the same neck and shoulders—no offence, I hope? And then some of the young gentlemen, with their cool, haughty, care-for-nothing looks, struck me as being very fine fellows. There was one in particular, whom I frequently used to stare at, not altogether unlike some one I have seen hereabouts—he had a slight cast in his eye, and . . . but I won't enter into every particular. And then the footmen! Oh, how those footmen helped to improve me with their conversation. Many of them could converse much more glibly than their masters, and appeared to have much better taste. At any rate, they seldom approved of what their masters did. I remember being once with one in the gallery of the play-house, when something of Shakespeare's was being performed: some one in the first tier of boxes was applauding very loudly. "That's my fool of a governor," said he; "he is weak enough to like Shakespeare—I don't;—he's so confoundedly low, but he won't last long—going down. Shakespeare culminated"—I think that was the word—"culminated some time ago."
'And then the professor of elocution, of whom my governors used to take lessons, and of which lessons I had my share, by listening behind the door; but for that professor of elocution I should not be able to round my periods—an expression of his—in the manner I do.
'After I had been three years at this place my mistress died. Her death, however, made no great alteration in my way of living, the family spending their winters in London, and their summers at their old seat in S—— as before. At last, the young ladies, who had not yet got husbands, which was strange enough, seeing, as I told you before, they were very amiable, proposed to our governor a travelling expedition abroad. The old baronet consented, though young master was much against it, saying they would all be much better at home. As the girls persisted, however, he at last withdrew his opposition, and even promised to follow them as soon as his parliamentary duties would permit; for he was just got into Parliament, and, like most other young members, thought that nothing could be done in the House without him. So the old gentleman and the two young ladies set off, taking me with them, and a couple of ladies' maids to wait upon them. First of all, we went to Paris, where we continued three months, the old baronet and the ladies going to see the various sights of the city, and the neighbourhood, and I attending them. They soon got tired of sight-seeing, and of Paris too; and so did I. However, they still continued there, in order, I believe, that the young ladies might lay in a store of French finery. I should have passed my idle time at Paris, of which I had plenty after the sight-seeing was over, very unpleasantly, but for Black Jack. Eh! did you never hear of Black Jack? Ah! if you had ever been an English servant in Paris, you would have known Black Jack; not an English gentleman's servant who has been at Paris for this last ten years but knows Black Jack and his ordinary. A strange fellow he was—of what country no one could exactly say—for as for judging from speech, that was impossible, Jack speaking all languages equally ill. Some said he came direct from Satan's kitchen, and that when he gives up keeping ordinary, he will return there again, though the generally-received opinion at Paris was, that he was at one time butler to King Pharaoh; and that, after lying asleep for four thousand years in a place called the Kattycombs, he was awaked by the sound of Nelson's cannon at the battle of the Nile, and going to the shore, took on with the admiral, and became, in course of time, ship steward; and that after Nelson's death he was captured by the French, on board one of whose vessels he served in a somewhat similar capacity till the peace, when he came to Paris, and set up an ordinary for servants, sticking the name of Katcomb over the door, in allusion to the place where he had his long sleep. But, whatever his origin was, Jack kept his own counsel, and appeared to care nothing for what people said about him, or called him. Yes, I forgot, there was one name he would not be called, and that was "Portuguese." I once saw Black Jack knock down a coachman, six foot high, who called him black-faced Portuguese. "Any name but dat, you shab," said Black Jack, who was a little round fellow, of about five feet two; "I would not stand to be called Portuguese by Nelson himself." Jack was rather fond of talking about Nelson, and hearing people talk about him, so that it is not improbable that he may have sailed with him; and with respect to his having been King Pharaoh's butler, all I have to say is, I am not disposed to give the downright lie to the report. Jack was always ready to do a kind turn to a poor servant out of place, and has often been known to assist such as were in prison, which charitable disposition he perhaps acquired from having lost a good place himself, having seen the inside of a prison, and known the want of a meal's victuals, all which trials King Pharaoh's butler underwent, so he may have been that butler; at any rate, I have known positive conclusions come to on no better premises, if indeed as good. As for the story of his coming direct from Satan's kitchen, I place no confidence in it at all, as Black Jack had nothing of Satan about him but blackness, on which account he was called Black Jack. Nor am I disposed to give credit to a report that his hatred of the Portuguese arose from some ill treatment which he had once experienced when on shore, at Lisbon, from certain gentlewomen of the place, but rather conclude that it arose from an opinion he entertained that the Portuguese never paid their debts, one of the ambassadors of that nation whose house he had served, having left Paris several thousand francs in his debt. This is all that I have to say about Black Jack, without whose funny jokes and good ordinary I should have passed my time in Paris in a very disconsolate manner.
'After we had been at Paris between two and three months, we left it in the direction of Italy, which country the family had a great desire to see. After travelling a great many days in a thing which, though called a diligence, did not exhibit much diligence, we came to a great big town, seated around a nasty salt-water bason, connected by a narrow passage with the sea. Here we were to embark; and so we did as soon as possible, glad enough to get away—at least I was, and so I make no doubt were the rest, for such a place for bad smells I never was in. It seems all the drains and sewers of the place run into that same salt bason, voiding into it all their impurities, which, not being able to escape into the sea in any considerable quantity, owing to the narrowness of the entrance, there accumulate, filling the whole atmosphere with these same outrageous scents, on which account the town is a famous lodging-house of the plague. The ship in which we embarked was bound for a place in Italy called Naples, where we were to stay some time. The voyage was rather a lazy one, the ship not being moved by steam; for at the time of which I am speaking, some five years ago, steam-ships were not so plentiful as now. There were only two passengers in the grand cabin, where my governor and his daughters were, an Italian lady and a priest. Of the lady I have not much to say, she appeared to be a quiet respectable person enough, and after our arrival at Naples I neither saw nor heard anything more of her; but of the priest I shall have a good deal to say in the sequel (that, by the bye, is a word I learnt from the professor of rhetoric), and it would have been well for our family had they never met him.
'On the third day of the voyage the priest came to me, who was rather unwell with sea-sickness, which he, of course, felt nothing of—that kind of people being never affected like others. He was a finish-looking man of about forty-five, but had something strange in his eyes, which I have since thought that all was not right in a certain place called the heart. After a few words of condolence, in a broken kind of English, he asked me various questions about our family; and I, won by his seeming kindness, told him all I knew about them—of which communicativeness I afterwards very much repented. As soon as he had got out of me all he desired, he left me; and I observed that during the rest of the voyage he was wonderfully attentive to our governor, and yet more to the young ladies. Both, however, kept him rather at a distance; the young ladies were reserved, and once or twice I heard our governor cursing him between his teeth for a sharking priest. The priest, however, was not disconcerted, and continued his attentions, which in a little time produced an effect, so that, by the time we landed at Naples, our great folks had conceived a kind of liking for the man, and when they took their leave invited him to visit them, which he promised to do. We hired a grand house or palace at Naples; it belonged to a poor kind of prince, who was glad enough to let it to our governor, and also his servants and carriages; and glad enough were the poor servants, for they got from us what they never got from the prince—plenty of meat and money; and glad enough, I make no doubt, were the horses for the provender we gave them; and I daresay the coaches were not sorry to be cleaned and furnished up. Well, we went out and came in; going to see the sights, and returning. Amongst other things we saw was the burning mountain, and the tomb of a certain sorcerer called Virgilio, who made witch rhymes, by which he could raise the dead. Plenty of people came to see us, both English and Italians, and amongst the rest the priest. He did not come amongst the first, but allowed us to settle and become a little quiet before he showed himself; and after a day or two he paid us another visit, then another, till at last his visits were daily.
'I did not like that Jack Priest; so I kept my eye upon all his motions. Lord! how that Jack Priest did curry favour with our governor and the two young ladies; and he curried, and curried, till he had got himself into favour with the governor, and more especially with the two young ladies, of whom their father was doatingly fond. At last the ladies took lessons in Italian of the priest, a language in which he was said to be a grand proficient, and of which they had hitherto known but very little; and from that time his influence over them, and consequently over the old governor, increased, till the tables were turned, and he no longer curried favour with them, but they with him—yes, as true as my leg aches, the young ladies curried, and the old governor curried favour with that same priest; when he was with them, they seemed almost to hang on his lips, that is, the young ladies; and as for the old governor, he never contradicted him, and when the fellow was absent, which, by the bye, was not often, it was, "Father-so-and-so said this," and "Father-so-and-so said that"; "Father so-and-so thinks we should do so-and-so, or that we should not do so-and-so." I at first thought that he must have given them something, some philtre or the like, but one of the English maid-servants, who had a kind of respect for me, and who saw much more behind the scenes than I did, informed me that he was continually instilling strange notions into their heads, striving, by every possible method, to make them despise the religion of their own land, and take up that of the foreign country in which they were. And sure enough, in a little time, the girls had altogether left off going to an English chapel, and were continually visiting places of Italian worship. The old governor, it is true, still went to his church, but he appeared to be hesitating between two opinions; and once, when he was at dinner, he said to two or three English friends that, since he had become better acquainted with it, he had conceived a much more favourable opinion of the Catholic religion than he had previously entertained. In a word, the priest ruled the house, and everything was done according to his will and pleasure by degrees he persuaded the young ladies to drop their English acquaintances, whose place he supplied with Italians, chiefly females. My poor old governor would not have had a person to speak to—for he never could learn the language—but for two or three Englishmen who used to come occasionally and take a bottle with him in a summer-house, whose company he could not be persuaded to resign, notwithstanding the entreaties of his daughters, instigated by the priest, whose grand endeavour seemed to be to render the minds of all three foolish, for his own ends. And if he was busy above stairs with the governor, there was another busy below with us poor English servants, a kind of subordinate priest, a low Italian; as he could speak no language but his own, he was continually jabbering to us in that, and by hearing him the maids and myself contrived to pick up a good deal of the language, so that we understood most that was said, and could speak it very fairly; and the themes of his jabber were the beauty and virtues of one whom he called Holy Mary, and the power and grandeur of one whom he called the Holy Father; and he told us that we should shortly have an opportunity of seeing the Holy Father, who could do anything he liked with Holy Mary: in the meantime we had plenty of opportunities of seeing Holy Mary, for in every church, chapel, and convent to which we were taken, there was an image of Holy Mary, who, if the images were dressed at all in her fashion, must have been very fond of short petticoats and tinsel, and who, if those said figures at all resembled her in face, could scarcely have been half as handsome as either of my two fellow-servants, not to speak of the young ladies.
'Now it happened that one of the female servants was much taken with what she saw and heard, and gave herself up entirely to the will of the subordinate, who had quite as much dominion over her as his superior had over the ladies; the other maid, however, the one who had a kind of respect for me, was not so easily besotted; she used to laugh at what she saw, and at what the fellow told her, and from her I learnt that amongst other things intended by these priestly confederates was robbery; she said that the poor old governor had already been persuaded by his daughters to put more than a thousand pounds into the superior priest's hands for purposes of charity and religion, as was said, and that the subordinate one had already inveigled her fellow-servant out of every penny which she had saved from her wages, and had endeavoured likewise to obtain what money she herself had, but in vain. With respect to myself, the fellow shortly after made an attempt towards obtaining a hundred crowns, of which, by some means, he knew me to be in possession, telling me what a meritorious thing it was to give one's superfluities for the purposes of religion. "That is true," said I, "and if, after my return to my native country, I find I have anything which I don't want myself, I will employ it in helping to build a Methodist chapel."
'By the time that the three months were expired for which he had hired the palace of the needy Prince, the old governor began to talk of returning to England, at least of leaving Italy. I believe he had become frightened at the calls which were continually being made upon him for money; for after all, you know, if there is a sensitive part of a man's wearing apparel, it is his breeches pocket; but the young ladies could not think of leaving dear Italy and the dear priest; and then they had seen nothing of the country, they had only seen Naples; before leaving dear Italia they must see more of the country and the cities; above all, they must see a place which they called the Eternal City, or some similar nonsensical name; and they persisted so that the poor governor permitted them, as usual, to have their way; and it was decided what route they should take—that is, the priest was kind enough to decide for them, and was also kind enough to promise to go with them part of the route, as far as a place where there was a wonderful figure of Holy Mary, which the priest said it was highly necessary for them to see before visiting the Eternal City: so we left Naples in hired carriages, driven by fellows they call veturini, cheating, drunken dogs, I remember they were. Besides our own family there was the priest and his subordinate, and a couple of hired lackeys. We were several days upon the journey, travelling through a very wild country, which the ladies pretended to be delighted with, and which the governor cursed on account of the badness of the roads; and when we came to any particularly wild spot we used to stop, in order to enjoy the scenery, as the ladies said; and then we would spread a horse-cloth on the ground, and eat bread and cheese, and drink wine of the country. And some of the holes and corners in which we bivouacked, as the ladies called it, were something like this place where we are now, so that when I came down here it put me in mind of them. At last we arrived at the place where was the holy image.
'We went to the house or chapel in which the holy image was kept—a frightful, ugly black figure of Holy Mary, dressed in her usual way; and after we had stared at the figure, and some of our party had bowed down to it, we were shown a great many things which were called holy relics, which consisted of thumb-nails, and fore-nails, and toe-nails, and hair, and teeth, and a feather or two, and a mighty thigh-bone, but whether of a man or a camel I can't say; all of which things, I was told, if properly touched and handled, had mighty power to cure all kinds of disorders. And as we went from the holy house we saw a man in a state of great excitement: he was foaming at the mouth, and cursing the holy image and all its household, because, after he had worshipped it and made offerings to it, and besought it to assist him in a game of chance which he was about to play, it had left him in the lurch, allowing him to lose all his money. And when I thought of all the rubbish I had seen, and the purposes which it was applied to, in conjunction with the rage of the losing gamester at the deaf and dumb image, I could not help comparing the whole with what my poor brother used to tell me of the superstitious practices of the blacks on the high Barbary shore, and their occasional rage and fury at the things they worshipped; and I said to myself, If all this here doesn't smell of fetish, may I smell fetid.
'At this place the priest left us, returning to Naples with his subordinate, on some particular business I suppose. It was, however, agreed that he should visit us at the Holy City. We did not go direct to the Holy City, but bent our course to two or three other cities which the family were desirous of seeing; but as nothing occurred to us in these places of any particular interest, I shall take the liberty of passing them by in silence. At length we arrived at the Eternal City: an immense city it was, looking as if it had stood for a long time, and would stand for a long time still; compared with it, London would look like a mere assemblage of bee-skeps; however, give me the bee-skeps with their merry hum and bustle, and life and honey, rather than that huge town, which looked like a sepulchre, where there was no life, no busy hum, no bees, but a scanty sallow population, intermixed with black priests, white priests, grey priests; and though I don't say there was no honey in the place, for I believe there was, I am ready to take my Bible oath that it was not made there, and that the priests kept it all for themselves.'
