Never Before Had I An Idea Of The Activity Of An Old Man's
Arm, And Hardness Of The Knob Of An Ivory-Headed Cane.
In my hurry and
confusion I missed my footing, and fell sprawling on the pavement.
I
was immediately surrounded by myrmidons, who I doubt not were on the
watch for me. Indeed, I was in no situation to escape, for I had
sprained my ankle in the fall, and could not stand. I was seized as a
housebreaker; and to exonerate myself from a greater crime I had to
accuse myself of a less. I made known who I was, and why I came there.
Alas! the varlets knew it already, and were only amusing themselves at
my expense. My perfidious muse had been playing me one of her slippery
tricks. The old curmudgeon of a father had found my sonnets and
acrostics hid away in holes and corners of his shop; he had no taste
for poetry like his daughter, and had instituted a rigorous though
silent observation. He had moused upon our letters; detected the ladder
of ropes, and prepared everything for my reception. Thus was I ever
doomed to be led into scrapes by the muse. Let no man henceforth carry
on a secret amour in poetry.
The old man's ire was in some measure appeased by the pummelling of my
head, and the anguish of my sprain; so he did not put me to death on
the spot. He was even humane enough to furnish a shutter, on which I
was carried back to the college like a wounded warrior. The porter was
roused to admit me; the college gate was thrown open for my entry; the
affair was blazed abroad the next morning, and became the joke of the
college from the buttery to the hall.
I had leisure to repent during several weeks' confinement by my sprain,
which I passed in translating Boethius' Consolations of Philosophy. I
received a most tender and ill-spelled letter from my mistress, who had
been sent to a relation in Coventry. She protested her innocence of my
misfortunes, and vowed to be true to me "till death." I took no notice
of the letter, for I was cured, for the present, both of love and
poetry. Women, however, are more constant in their attachments than
men, whatever philosophers may say to the contrary. I am assured that
she actually remained faithful to her vow for several months; but she
had to deal with a cruel father whose heart was as hard as the knob of
his cane. He was not to be touched by tears or poetry; but absolutely
compelled her to marry a reputable young tradesman; who made her a
happy woman in spite of herself, and of all the rules of romance; and
what is more, the mother of several children. They are at this very day
a thriving couple and keep a snug corner shop, just opposite the figure
of Peeping Tom at Coventry.
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