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

“People very different from the landlord,” said the man in black, “both in intellect and station, think we shall surely win; there are clever machinators among us who have no doubt of our success.”

“Well,” said I, “I will set the landlord aside, and will adduce one who was in every point a very different person from the landlord, both in understanding and station; he was very fond of laying schemes, and, indeed, many of them turned out successful. His last and darling one, however, miscarried, notwithstanding that by his calculations he had persuaded himself that there was no possibility of its failing⁠—the person that I allude to was old Fraser⁠—”

“Who?” said the man in black, giving a start, and letting his glass fall.

“Old Fraser of Lovat,” said I; “the prince of all conspirators and machinators; he made sure of placing the Pretender on the throne of these realms. ‘I can bring into the field so many men,’ said he; ‘my son-in-law, Cluny, so many, and likewise my cousin, and my good friend;’ then speaking of those on whom the Government reckoned for support, he would say: ‘So-and-so are lukewarm, this person is ruled by his wife, who is with us, the clergy are anything but hostile to us, and as for the soldiers and sailors, half are disaffected to King George, and the rest cowards.’ Yet when things came to a trial, this person whom he had calculated upon to join the Pretender did not stir from his home, another joined the hostile ranks, the presumed cowards turned out heroes, and those whom he thought heroes ran away like lusty fellows at Culloden; in a word, he found himself utterly mistaken, and in nothing more than in himself; he thought he was a hero, and proved himself nothing more than an old fox; he got up a hollow tree, didn’t he, just like a fox?

L’opere sue non furon leonine, ma di volpe.”236

The man in black sat silent for a considerable time, and at length answered in rather a faltering voice: “I was not prepared for this; you have frequently surprised me by your knowledge of things which I should never have expected any person of your appearance to be acquainted with, but that you should be aware of my name is a circumstance utterly incomprehensible to me. I had imagined that no person in England was acquainted with it; indeed, I don’t see how any person should be, I have revealed it to no one, not being particularly proud of it. Yes, I acknowledge that my name is Fraser, and that I am of the blood of that family or clan, of which the rector of our college once said, that he was firmly of opinion that every individual member was either rogue or fool. I was born at Madrid, of pure, oimè,237 Fraser blood. My parents, at an early age, took me to ⸻,238 where they shortly died, not, however, before they had placed me in the service of a cardinal, with whom I continued some years, and who, when he had no further occasion for me, sent me to the college, in the left-hand cloister of which, as you enter, rest the bones of Sir John D⁠⸺; there, in studying logic and humane letters, I lost whatever of humanity I had retained when discarded by the cardinal. Let me not, however, forget two points, I am a Fraser, it is true, but not a Flannagan; I may bear the vilest name of Britain, but not of Ireland; I was bred up at the English house, and there is at ⸻239 a house for the education of bogtrotters; I was not bred up at that; beneath the lowest gulf, there is one yet lower; whatever my blood may be, it is at least not Irish; whatever my education may have been, I was not bred at the Irish seminary⁠—on those accounts I am thankful⁠—yes, per Dio!240 I am thankful. After some years at college⁠—but why should I tell you my history? you know it already perfectly well, probably much better than myself. I am now a missionary priest, labouring in heretic England, like Parsons and Garnet of old,241 save and except that, unlike them, I run no danger, for the times are changed. As I told you before, I shall cleave to Rome⁠—I must; no hay remedio,242 as they say at Madrid, and I will do my best to further her holy plans⁠—he! he!⁠—but I confess I begin to doubt of their being successful here⁠—you put me out; old Fraser of Lovat! I have heard my father talk of him; he had a gold-headed cane, with which he once knocked my grandfather down⁠—he was an astute one, but, as you say, mistaken, particularly in himself. I have read his life by Arbuthnot, it is in the library of our college. Farewell! I shall come no more to this dingle⁠—to come would be of no utility; I shall go and labour elsewhere, though⁠—how you came to know my name, is a fact quite inexplicable⁠—farewell! to you both.”

He then arose, and without further salutation departed from the dingle, in which I never saw him again. “How, in the name of wonder, came you to know that man’s name?” said Belle, after he had been gone some time.

“I, Belle? I knew nothing of the fellow’s name, I assure you.”

“But you mentioned his name.”

“If I did, it was merely casually, by way of illustration. I was saying how frequently cunning people were mistaken in their calculations, and I adduced the case of old Fraser of Lovat, as one in point; I brought forward his name, because I was well acquainted with his history, from having compiled and inserted it in a wonderful work,243 which