A gent. of Quality shou'd ever make a Habit of disdaining public Intercourse. Such are the Perils, according to wise Counsel:
By being seldom seen, I could not stir
But like a comet I was wonder'd at...
And dress'd myself in such humility
That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,
Even in the presence of the crowned king.
Thus did I keep my person fresh and new;
My presence, like a robe pontifical,
Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state,
Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast
And won by rareness such solemnity.
In such ringing & measured Tones did I oft hear Schoolmaster Wendell upbraid me for my Liberty, wishing he cou'd bolt me to a Chamber lined with Books & empty of Females. But if every Poet has his Zoilos, every Hamlet has his Polonius, and Wendell's petulant cavills rang hollow 'gainst my chest.
In such Concourse I encounter'd my ancient tavern-companion, Bunston Deale. I had been arguing with a noisome Snail at the Ordinary, a nametagg'd Monstrosity call'd Snerdly. Snerdly has held some sundry Goods of mine for Weeks, including a precious Store of Damasck Myrrh. Burbling into his kerchief with a monstrous Hub-bub, he sort'd a Lump of what he call'd Tobaccky round his mouth, and fairly blotted the Fabric with that rotten Juice. I tugg'd at his stain'd Collar, & wish'd he wou'd be honest with me, concerning his late Failures. Amidst my buttonholing of the Cretin, Deale arriv'd, much displeas'd with the State of some hemp-rope recently purchas'd of Snerdly. Thus cornered, Snerdly appear'd on the Verge of Tears, and seem'd entirely overcome with a Wealth of Emotion, in his Poverty of Goods. He sniffled, & scrubb'd his Nose on his tatter'd Sleeve. Epaph! rumbled Deale, Ye must beware these Richmond Merchaunts! They disguise their wealth in Rags - the better to thieve us all!
Then Deale executed a peculiar Maneuver, one I had not seen since my Days at the Side of Ned Bearskin, deep 'neath the Dan R. Catching eye of a Snake, Deale grabb'd it from the Ground, and thrust its hissing Jaws into Snerdly's very Face. Oh - aho! Oh! Quite right!
Snerdly's Brains bubbl'd, & promis'd to burst from his very Ears. I loop'd my Arm through the Crook of Bunston's, & drug him away to a Stoop, to beseech his Attention.
Bunston, sd I, whence this curious Competency?
Georges Dealle, first Scion of his noble Line, spear'd the Devil with his Staff, cleaving ignoble Scratch quite in two. For his Struggle with Old Tom Devil, he became St. of England, & his Saint's Day April 23rd - that same day that birth'd Shakespere.
Deales of all kinds became acquainted with the finer Aspeckts of Devilry, the wild Doings of untamed Men & the lascivious Lusts of craven Witch-Harlots. These Humbugs trifled the kingdom of Brittannia so greatly, that the Deales did pluck up their Trousers, & sail to VIRGINIA.
& no nobler Move cou'd be imagined! The Dealles, various known as Deals, Deales, Dayles, & Doyles, spread themselves across the Middle Peninsula of James & Charles Cittie Shires. Mighty as the James, their Family split into a thousand Creeks, Runs & Streams, divergent off the main flux of aequeous Power. Deales lived as Kings alongside Shirley Run, & Doyles lived as bondsmen in Accamoosik Swamp. A Dealle Hand clutch'd a pearly Goblet in the panelled dining Rooms of Governors & Chauncellors; a Deal Shoulder crack'd, heaving against an intransigent Plough.
In this gnarl'd & twist'd Swampland of Relation & Obligation, one cou'd only expect that a Twitch upon the Thread wou'd set spinning the Scene entire. & befitting the watery course of Human Spirits, it was the swollen Moon that was most to blame for what ensued.
When silver Light fill'd every Corner of that swampy Peninsula, Ptolomy Deale, a Rioter, had spent 3 hours occupied with Drink. Quite sunk under the water-Line of drunkenness, he stumbled forth from the Door of a Tavern with his Chums. He cried to the open Heavens, limn'd with shining Silver, B'lieve I cou'd drink the Devil under the Table!
At which a Flash, & old Jack Scratch himself appear'd. In brimstone Notes of Menace, he utter'd his Curse - as long as a Deale man walk'd Sober, he wou'd claim the Family entire.
In Pitch-terror & Fear the Deales began their Campaign of Drink. This Sea-change switch'd out the commodious & pleasant Waters that formerly sustain'd a Body, replac'd instead with the choking dizzying Fluids of Brandy. One male especial became a Designated Drinker, & swallow'd down a Clan's Share of Alcohol.
This ran in fine til the Time of Bunston's great-Grandfather, Euphabius Deale, yclept "Jack" Deale. This Jack Deale play'd a most grossly wondrous Violin, a fiddle unlike any previous heard. But most especial, he became known as a dauncer.
Dancing being the principal Delight of the young Scampers & fillies, this Expertise prov'd invaluable, winning the Hearts of a thousand disappointed Ladies. For as his Feet flick'd & tapp'd, they traced out the Lines of lascivious Wonder. This devilish Habit made him many Admirers, to be certain, but also cancell'd the Esteem he had once held in divers Ancient hearts.
The day arrived, when young Jack Deale wou'd be forc'd to take up the Mantle of Family Drunk. & yet he refus'd, crying out to his greyed & wizen'd mater, The Devil is a Coward! I dare him a Challenge, that he cou'd not dance worth a lick on the Wide banks of the James R.!
In a flash, tiresome predictable, the Devill appear'd, & dragged young Deale down to the banks of the River, where Jamestown Island meets the Waters of the old Powhatan Flu. Whetting his old Hooves against the marshy Sand, the Devill murmur'd one of his Taunts, that old King Bettie will surely take glee in yr soul, Jack Deale, & yr prostrate limbs, as Well! The noble Deale only ran his Fingers through his bounteous Mustache, & call'd to dance a vicious Reel.
Ancient Clio Waggins call'd the Dance, & John Brackis fiddled til the very Wood sweat'd with Exertion. The Devil retriev'd from his deepest Bag of Chaunts & Magicks an intricate Swirl, a Foot-maelstrom that bewilder'd the Sense of poor Waggins & nearly chafed the Excellence of his Calling.
& yet the Deale was greater! Blazing Lightning of Heels, swift Murmur of Steps - an Audacity of Step not seen since the Bal des Ardents! The Devill, corner'd & humbl'd by the Majesty of Deale's footwork, crumbled into a faint Shadow of himself, a mere Goat of a man.
Oh Deale, sd he, what wou'd you have me do?
Devill, sd Deale, I wou'd have you leave this Place forever. Henceforth, ye shall live ever - in Surry Shire!
A Punishment then quite wretch'd, now perhaps moderat'd in the Light of subsequent Development - the Wilds of James & Charles Cittie o'errun by scrofulous Tourists & mealymouth'd Foreigners. But in these precious Days passed, I have oft wish'd that I might be given such sweet Punishment.
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