Lizard World (32 page)

      
At the first I did think it from my father. For how else should I have understood the waxen seal impressed by my father’s ducal signet? But then reading of the letter, I did presently recognise my brother Baldric’s hand. The shit-breech did not waste words, but did straightways vomit up the substance of his news. It falls out that, our father having been stricken with an apoplexy whilst dealing of the cards at ombre -- and now reposing on the brink of death -- my prompt brother had taken occasion to possess himself at once of all the rights and appurtenances of the dukedom. And yet not content even with this, seizing the advantage of our father’s fleeting wakefulness (when he did rave at the terrors of damnation and the grave), my pious brother had perswaded the old fool to save his soul and scourge my sins by scanting my inheritance. And if this our father’s godly resolution liked me not, chid my brother, then I had only myself to blame -- and the whining plaints of our blinded cousin Fawncey.

  
Albeit I did have no great mind to journey a fortnight in frozen tedium to my father’s castle, yet this damnable letter did put me upon a most reluctant resolution of going thither. For I did intend to reconcile me to my father. Nor did I in the leastwise purpose to surrender the dukedom to my brother, forasmuch as I did still entertain some hopes that I might by and by contrive to brand him for a Papist and a traitor.

      
Whilst thus meditating my ill-treatment and my strategems -- and thinking how perchance my brother’s prayerful lady, Millicent, might be enforced to serve my purpose -- I did coach it past the gates of Fawncey Hall. There at a glance were Fawncey’s crest, the summer-house where he was wont to nauseate me with his verse and the stately elm ‘neath which I did rummage his sister’s petticoats. And presently I did catch sight (hardby their parish church, amongst a clutter of headstones) of my poor little cousin Belinda’s snow-smothered grave, a most doleful object occasioning a further heavy store of melancholy remembrances -- of which, howsomever, I did greatly disburthen myself by once again smelling of my charmer’s letter and gazing on her picture in my locket.

      
Indeed the more I did smell of it and read again how she did fancy me -- and consider besides of her portion-money and my sudden want of funds -- the more I did resolve to bestow on her the honours of a wife. ’Twas, i’faith, in view of this that I had instructed my fair spy in the bawdy-house to cry up all my marriageable excellencies and cry down the shitten Chommeley. For I had heard it noised abroad that the lamented Earl of Wolverton had been possessed of a most estimable fortune. In more particular I had heard it rated at above one hundred thousand pounds. By this I now did reckon that, notwithstanding my Lord Viscount Chommeley’s prodigious spending, my charmer’s portion would afford me assuredly no less than three thousand pounds per annum. Misfortunately I could neither, at this present, count upon my heritance nor the dukedom. Yet such reflections as these, in despight of my cold coach and the singularly dreary prospect of yet more frozen fields and hovels ’neath a leaden sky, did much lessen the displeasures of my journey.

      
Natheless, when presently I did uncoach into the bedunged and bewintered courtyard of another raskally inn, I did find myself most surpassingly unquiet in mind. Amongst a store other reasons, I could not rid me of the thought that my Lord Viscount Chommeley would at the length prove to be the rub in the way of my design. Indeed, I did nowise doubt that the fat-ars’d rogue would do his best endeavour to disappoint my wooing. For tho’ he set not a turd by the whoring of his niece and lawful ward, yet -- lest he lose the spending of her fortune -- he would be infinite loth to see her wed. And furthermore (as if this -- and my brother’s usurpation of the dukedom -- were not full troublous enough) I could not chuse but grievously fear that, in despight of my uttermost haste, the duke my father might too soon die and so a vast deal of my heritance be lost. ’Twas whilst thus I was beset by these intolerable disquiets (and in that mean time compass’d round in this courtyard by the filth of horses, the doffing of hats, the shrill din of dogs and the vile importunities of beggars) that my manservant Potter made again an attempt to extort some money.

    
The surly blackguard had the face to refuse to lift my luggage. Instead, in the midst of all this clamorous rabblement and frozen foulness, he was pleased to remember me of the whorseson bookseller, Barnaby. Yea, making malapert mention of this bookish carrion’s death, he did declare -- in the most bluntest of terms -- that I had best to give him somewhat for his silence. I must own that, in the extremity of my fatigue and care, I had not now the necessary vigour to beat him. Happily, howsomever, there stood hardby (making their addresses to a brace of strumpets) three excessive sturdy lads whom I did surmize by their red coats, white breeches and blue caps to be His Majesty’s grenadiers. These brave blades -- having due regard for a person of quality -- did no sooner remark my distress, than they did quit their doxies and present themselves at my service. The short of it is that (for the matter of a shilling and the promise of my favour) I did presently hire these lads to give my varlet Potter a most sound and salutary basting. And upon the morrow, sooth to say, I did find the scoundrel’s manner much improved. Indeed, I have ever found that the demeanour of a manservant is exceeding much the better for a beating.

      
Hence it was that I did not hear the impertinent cur utter so much as a single saucy word in the whole of this my last day’s journey to my father’s castle. Nor, by my troth -- for an interminable tedium of hours -- did I hear aught else save the crack of his whip, the plaints of the wind and the horses, and the clicking of sleet upon my window. And thus was I fain to shiver and drowze and coach it thro’ the day -- until at the last I did recognize some wretched little cottages, and the sun did set above familiar fields and forests whose fox and quail and splendid roe-bucks it had been my very extasy to shoot in the long since bygone hunting-days of my boyhood. So now perforce did I steel me to lay claim to my due heritance. For tho’ I could but ill stomach the prospect of giving a tenderful visit to my kin, yet erelong I did wheel on thro’ our gates and catch sight of the massy towers and portal of the residence -- whereto I did this moment most wearily arrive in the drear, bone-piercing cold of eventide.

      
Thus over-tired and not in the leastwise quiet in mind, I was presently left to stand a-knocking and a-shivering in this bitter cold -- until at the length comes our ancient door-keeper who -- doubtless supposing to give good cheer -- did detain me in the hall with his presumptuous loquacity. But when at last I had got myself well rid of him I did see nobody else of the household thereabouts -- save only (most excessive slowly a-sweeping of the floor) my old carping nuisance of a suck-nurse whom I had so oftentimes been fain to thrash ever since I was a very boy. No sooner did this crone observe me, than she did gasp and commence her wonted fuss. But the old hen knew well enough now not to hamper me -- tho’ I did hear her clucking still as I did hasten up the stair-case toward my father’s door.

      
At the first, upon entering, I did perceive nothing -- excepting the overmuch dispiriting darkness of the chamber and its prodigious nauseous smell. Yet by and by I did make out a brace of figures seated over against the curtain’d bed. Approaching thither, I did hear a mumbled sing-song which I could not but surmize was prayer. Now advancing some few steps closer (tho’ as yet they did not remark my presence) I could perceive right well enough who they were: our damnable little worm of a local vicar and my brother’s pious, big-boned, flat-breasted lady -- Millicent.

      
She it was who did first espy me, raising her plump hand unto her startled mouth. Then it was the little vicar who did observe me, leaping betwixt me and my father’s bed, thinking to oppose my progress with his clutched prayer-book and his pustulous, earnest face. But I was not to be so easily withstood. For in a trice I had unpocketed and cock’d my pistol, held the little sop at bay -- and drawn aside the damask bed-curtain.

      
Most fortunately, the old fool was still breathing. Yet, without his perriwig and ivory teeth, he did seem now but little more than a most distressful farrago of ill-odour, spew, snot and gasping, rheumy-eyed infirmity. I did remark, howsomever, that his Grace’s hand was even now a-gripping of our grandsires’ cross, a pretty trinket most exceeding aged and rife with resplendent rubies.

      
I must fairly own that I should not then have endeavoured to remove it. For no sooner had I but ever the most gingerly pull’d at it, than his Grace did start awake from his lamented stupor, taking abrupt -- and in the event, most disastrous -- cognizance of my presence. For now was I fain to hear the first displeasant croaks and behold the first unsightly tremors of the fit. Then indeed did my gorge rise at the sudden gust of his abominable breath and at the plenteous vileness which, at the terrific summit of this paroxysm, he did presently cast up upon my sattin doublet. Nor was this the whole of it. As if o’ertaxed by these prodigious efforts, his Grace did now fall back upon his pillows -- his entire person but a lump of twitchng palsie, his eyes rolling about most idly in his pallid pate.

      
Now, of course, was I favoured with Millicent’s scolding -- whilst the little sniveling vicar did pell-mell betake himself below-stairs to summon the physician. I, perforce, did doff my doublet and, at once, uncock and wipe my pistol. But Millicent -- doubtless supposing that she had gain’d advantage on me -- still took occasion to pour forth a very torrent of ill words. Indeed, so overlong a sermon I think I never heard in all my life. Natheless, I did hearken to it most soberly -- albeit I did laugh in my sleeve to think how I had lain with her and how, for all her pious countenance, she had so roundly played the whore.

      
But now, mercifully, in charges the physician and straightways commences to blister my father and to let him blood -- so Millicent could not chuse but mind her haviours and hold her tiresome tongue. I cannot soothly say that I was not already quite piqued by Millicent’s insolence and, moreover, most stomack-sick at the sad spectacle and unutterable odours of infirmity. Natheless, I myself spoke not a single uncivil word -- but did only endeavour to find out some small measure of relief in the smelling of my perfum’d glove. But Millicent, no longer able to forbear from sermonizing, gan presently to whisper me full low that I had best to leave ere my brother did return. For, if ever he found me here, he would further scant my moneys. In fine, she had the unparalleled impertinence to tell me to begone.

      
By now I had -- unquestionably -- borne quite enough. Thus, in my most softest whisper, I replied that I cared not a fart if my brother were troubled by my visit. I said I did not fear in the least that I would be short of moneys. For, if she did not perswade the duke my father to sign a last will and testament which my own solicitor had penn’d, then I would be fain to tell our beloved Baldric how -- of a sultry Lord’s Day evening, uplifting of her skirts upon a bench in the very pews of her chapel -- she had been full as eager to be swived as a common salt-ars’d bitch.

      
These my whisper’d words did effect a most miraculous conversion. Indeed never, I daresay, did a benighted soul on such a very sudden see the light. For now -- in a wink -- did this erstwhile most pert, refractory and ill-mannered jade declare with quite gratifying meekness that she would henceforth be full fain to do my bidding.

      
All this meanwhile had his Grace’s limbs and trunk been scarified and cupped, his eyes and mouth beset with leeches, his reverend head salubriously blistered. Inasmuch as he had been given, moreover than this, a cleansing vomit and a glyster, he did now -- by all means possible -- vent the pestiferous excess of his humours. Yet truly I know not whether I was more distressed by the unsightliness of all these medicinal operations or by the most unmanly deportment which his Grace did presently betray.

      
For no sooner had he waked up from his lethargy, than he did fall to such a womanish weeping and a-whimpering -- that I was, I do confess, quite to my uttermost endurance sicken’d of it. Unless it were in a nursery, I think I never did hear such shameful puling. Nor was I in the least relieved until Millicent, with much ado, made shift tolerably well to hush him up. Yet even then he could not quite entirely forbear from whining . . . until the little pimple-faced vicar had again given him his cross -- the which the old fool did forthwith clutch and commence to drivel and dote upon after the manner of a blubbering child clinging to some well-beloved doll.

      
Now, meseem’d, at the long-last it was time to make him sign. For but the merest instant Millicent did seem held back by a lingering reluctance. Yet by dint of looking her most sternly in the eye, I did presently prevail on her to wheedle him and offer him the writ. The old addle-pated wretch did only stare and slabber until, finally, she endeavoured to make him take the quill.

      
Then it was -- as his muddled mind did increasingly comprehend that his right hand must needs ungrasp his cross -- that he did again commence, ever more insufferably louder, a-sobbing and a-snuffling and a-shrieking. It is possible, peradventure, that I should not have done what now I did. But forasmuch as his noxious exhalations had given me the vapours -- and as I was nowise of a mind to be further incommoded by the unseemly tantrums of an ancient child -- I did now take away his little cross.