Lavengro by George Borrow (read me a book txt) 📕

appeared to me that I had seen him twice before whilst preaching. I replied to his salutation, and perceiving that he looked somewhat fatigued, I took out a stool from the cart, and asked him to sit down. We began to discourse; I at first supposed that he might be one of ourselves, some wandering minister; but I was soon undeceived. Neither his language nor his ideas were those of any one of our body. He spoke on all kinds of matters with much fluency, till at last he mentioned my preaching, complimenting me on my powers. I replied, as well I might, that I could claim no merit of my own, and that if I spoke with any effect, it was only by the grace of God. As I uttered these last words, a horrible kind of sneer came over his countenance, which made me shudder, for there was something diabolical in it. I said little more, but listened attentively to his discourse. At last he said that I was engaged in a paltry cause, quite unworthy of one of my powers. ‘How can that be,’ said I, ‘even if I possessed all the powers in the world, seeing that I am engaged in the cause of our Lord Jesus?’

“The same kind of sneer again came on his countenance, but he almost instantly observed that if I chose to forsake this same miserable cause, from which nothing but contempt and privation were to be expected, he would enlist me into another, from which I might expect both profit and renown. An idea now came into my head, and I told him firmly, that if he wished me to forsake my present profession and become a member of the Church of England, I must absolutely decline; that I had no ill-will against that church, but I thought I could do most good in my present position, which I would not forsake to be Archbishop of Canterbury. Thereupon he burst into a strange laughter, and went away, repeating to himself, ‘Church of England! Archbishop of Canterbury!’ A few days after, when I was once more in a solitary place, he again appeared before me, and asked me whether I had thought over his words, and whether I was willing to enlist under the banners of his master, adding, that he was eager to secure me, as he conceived that I might be highly useful to the cause. I then asked him who his master was; he hesitated for a moment, and then answered, ‘The Roman Pontiff.’ ‘If it be he,’ said I, ‘I can have nothing to do with him; I will serve no one who is an enemy of Christ.’ Thereupon he drew near to me and told me not to talk so much like a simpleton; that as for Christ, it was probable that no such person ever existed, but that if He ever did, He was the greatest impostor the world ever saw. How long he continued in this way I know not, for I now considered that an evil spirit was before me, and shrank within myself, shivering in every limb; when I recovered myself and looked about me, he was gone. Two days after, he again stood before me, in the same place, and about the same hour, renewing his propositions, and speaking more horribly than before. I made him no answer, whereupon he continued; but suddenly hearing a noise behind him, he looked round and beheld Winifred, who had returned to me on the morning of that day. ‘Who are you?’ said he fiercely. ‘This man’s wife,’ said she, calmly fixing her eyes upon him. ‘Begone from him, unhappy one, thou temptest him in vain.’ He made no answer, but stood as if transfixed; at length recovering himself, he departed, muttering ‘Wife! Wife! If the fool has a wife, he will never do for us.’ ”

LXXX

We were now drawing very near the hills, and Peter said, “If you are to go into Wales, you must presently decide, for we are close upon the border.”

“Which is the border?” said I.

“Yon small brook,” said Peter, “into which the man on horseback, who is coming towards us, is now entering.”

“I see it,” said I, “and the man; he stops in the middle of it, as if to water his steed.”

We proceeded till we had nearly reached the brook. “Well,” said Peter, “will you go into Wales?”

“What should I do in Wales?” I demanded.

“Do!” said Peter, smiling, “learn Welsh.”

I stopped my little pony. “Then I need not go into Wales; I already know Welsh.”

“Know Welsh!” said Peter, staring at me.

“Know Welsh!” said Winifred, stopping her cart.

“How and when did you learn it?” said Peter.

“From books, in my boyhood.”

“Read Welsh!” said Peter, “is it possible?”

“Read Welsh!” said Winifred, “is it possible?”

“Well, I hope you will come with us,” said Peter.

“Come with us, young man,” said Winifred; “let me, on the other side of the brook, welcome you into Wales.”

“Thank you both,” said I, “but I will not come.”

“Wherefore?” exclaimed both simultaneously.

“Because it is neither fit nor proper that I cross into Wales at this time, and in this manner. When I go into Wales, I should wish to go in a new suit of superfine black, with hat and beaver, mounted on a powerful steed, black and glossy, like that which bore Greduv to the fight of Catraeth.197 I should wish, moreover, to see the Welshmen assembled on the border ready to welcome me with pipe and fiddle, and much whooping and shouting, and to attend me to Wrexham, or even as far as Machynllaith, where I should wish to be invited to a dinner at which all the bards should be present, and to be seated at the right hand of the president, who, when the cloth was removed, should arise, and, amidst cries of silence, exclaim⁠—‘Brethren and Welshmen, allow me to propose the health of my most respectable friend the translator