Fanatic

Wyświetlenia: 2099 / 0 | Seria: Fanatyk | Dodano przez:malkolmxd

Mine sire is a fanatic o' fishery. Half of the hut is cramm'd with fishing rods. On av'rage once upon a month a man treads upon an angle or an anchor and thereupon craveth a curer familar with the art o' surgery for those are of a crooked anatomy. Two-and-score a spring have I lived and I have already had a physician extract'd these 10 times of me. When a week ago I ventur'd 'here to pay alms for the needy - the nurse hath said 'bare thy foot i prithee' xǷ for that maiden reckon'd that I was ensnar'd once more. Second half of the hut is cramm'd with some bookes and scrolls titl'd 'Ye Arcana of Hvnting Ye Beastes Beknowledged as Fishes', 'Svmmonations of Demons For Ye Sake Of a Greater Nvmber of Fishes', 'Ye Mob Dicketh on Ye Whale' xǷ et cetera. Every week mine sire inpecteth every market in the county to seek whether no new fishing 'booke' hath been discover'd or written. I was a fool to have introduc'd him to the Royal Library for I have thought we would save many a shilling on that, yet now he still buys all the bookes he finds and slanders the noble librarians for, o say, having treatises on baits he deemeth inferior to his. Oft he curseth the books and attempteth to break their attaching chain to defenestrate them. Once mine sire hath vexed me so I ogred him by placing pergamins with calumnies like "herrings consume manure". My mother nigh fail'd to hath cook'd enough stew to bring him back to tranquility. Ah, and he has earned the title "Royal Fish-loremaster" for reading 100 bookes in the library. If the Lord blesseth us with fine weather then my sire ventures out to angle. For five years we have only had fish-meals and nought else on the Lord's Day. Each time we dine he preacheth the merits o' eating these watery devils. When I was squired by the King himself my father rav'd for a month that 'tis thanks to the fishes for they make me look strong and knight-like. On every sabbath day when the Sun hath barely yet commenc'd its daily journey he waketh entire family with his fellow Richard for they pack their carriage with nets, rods and baits and prepare nuncheons (those morsels always had fishes within them). Whenever we dine he always prateth upon the subject of fishes and every time he ends up inveighing against the Royal Fishery Guild, my father winds himself up and the arse of his paineth intensly hurr they keep all the sturgeons durr my favorite fish hurr and leaves the table cursing like the Devil 'imself. He calmeth not until he seeth his fishing woodcuts and stuffed fishes collection. This year, when the feast of Saint Nicolas was coming he bought himself wood and iron required to make a fish-boat. Of course he hath not tarried until the feast but built it yesterday and tarred it in our dining chamber. He sat in the vessel the entire day. There he ate the (fish) stew as well [magnificent][hail] If it do come to pass, that all fishes turn ass, leaving their roe and ease, my disdainful will to please, I would heinously and mercilessly slay them. Once upon a time, when I was still an ungrown urchin, my name day was nigh so my father hath taken me angling with him as a surprise. Most marvelous gift, thou clay-brained guts! We parted many a furlong from the city, we approach'd the lake, his eyes blearing and mouth watering. He hath set up all his fancy rods and then we sat down sighting at the surface. As the sun mov'd upon the firmament I have grown bor'd and start'd whistling a song I have hearken'd during the Holy Mass. My father hath whipp'd me with his fishing rod and assert'd that fishes hear my melody and flee. When I felt a desire to scrath my arse my sire anon 'mutely yelled' at me to stir not for they mark my moves and vanish. I had to sit gazing upon the water with no motion until the Sun hath pass'd half of its daily journey as if I was a prisoner in Tower. Mine name day befalleth on November so the weather was frosty and the Aquilon blew hard at us. One moment my father bewent score yards into the woods and flatulat'd. He hath said 'Thou only flatulate in the woods lest the fishes hearken or smell thee'. I have told ye that he hath a friend - Richard - with whom he commonly angleth. Erstwhile, their fishing companion was John. A man of a globular apparition with a bushy moustache with a vest sewn customely for him that is call'd "CANNONEER". He wert like kith and kin with my sire, he with his wife Elisabeth would come to us every Easter feast et cetera. Once, when my father celebrated his name day he hath invit'd John for ale. They have got drunk hastily and discussed fishing incessantly. I was in my chamber. All of a sudden they have errupted with calumniations against their most belov'd types of fishes - be it a cod or or a herring that is the mightiest and the best delicacy. >VEX ME NOT JOHN, HAST THOU EVER GLANCED UPON THE FANGS ON CODS? ONE BITE AND A CRIPPLE THOU ART! >FIE UPON THEE HENRY, BRITTISH HERRINGS WEIGH TEN STONE, THY COD IS NOUGHT TO THEM! >WHEREOF THOU SPEAKEST O' HERRINGS WHILE THOU CANST NOT EVEN CATCH A TUNA, COD IS THE KING O' WATERS AS KING JAMES IS THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH! They commenc'd to clumsily duel on the thresh'd floor in the main chamber and I with my mother had to separate them. Thenceforth they have utter'd no word to each other. Ereyesteryear, my mother heard of John's wife that the poor ol' fellow fell from a horse and we are invit'd for the funeral. Mother expressed our grief, but when my father heard about it he venomously replied: >I find solace in the words thou heraldest! Fie upon him! This much hatred and malice for him had he within his heart for the sake of cods.



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