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

Papa of Rome has at present many emissaries in this country, in order to seduce the people from their own quiet religion to the savage heresy of Rome; this fellow came to me partly in the hope of converting me, but principally to extort money for the purpose of furthering the designs of Rome in this country. I humoured the fellow at first, keeping him in play for nearly a month, deceiving and laughing at him. At last he discovered that he could make nothing of me, and departed with the scowl of Caiaphas, whilst I cried after him: ‘The roots of Ararat are deeper than those of Rome.’ ”

The Armenian had occasionally reverted to the subject of the translation of the Haik Esop, which he had still a lurking desire that I should execute; but I had invariably declined the undertaking, without, however, stating my reasons. On one occasion, when we had been conversing on the subject, the Armenian, who had been observing my countenance for some time with much attention, remarked, “Perhaps, after all, you are right, and you might employ your time to better advantage. Literature is a fine thing, especially Haik literature, but neither that nor any other would be likely to serve as a foundation to a man’s fortune: and to make a fortune should be the principal aim of everyone’s life; therefore listen to me. Accept a seat at the desk opposite to my Moldavian clerk, and receive the rudiments of a merchant’s education. You shall be instructed in the Armenian way of doing business⁠—I think you would make an excellent merchant.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because you have something of the Armenian look.”

“I understand you,” said I; “you mean to say that I squint?”

“Not exactly,” said the Armenian, “but there is certainly a kind of irregularity in your features. One eye appears to me larger than the other⁠—never mind, but rather rejoice; in that irregularity consists your strength. All people with regular features are fools; it is very hard for them, you’ll say, but there is no help: all we can do, who are not in such a predicament, is to pity those who are. Well! will you accept my offer? No! you are a singular individual; but I must not forget my own concerns. I must now go forth, having an appointment by which I hope to make money.”

L

The fulfilment of the Armenian’s grand wish was nearer at hand than either he or I had anticipated. Partly owing to the success of a bold speculation, in which he had some time previously engaged, and partly owing to the bequest of a large sum of money by one of his nation who died at this period in Paris, he found himself in the possession of a fortune somewhat exceeding two hundred thousand pounds; this fact he communicated to me one evening about an hour after the close of ’Change, the hour at which I generally called, and at which I mostly found him at home.

“Well,” said I, “and what do you intend to do next?”

“I scarcely know,” said the Armenian. “I was thinking of that when you came in. I don’t see anything that I can do, save going on in my former course. After all, I was perhaps too moderate in making the possession of two hundred thousand pounds the summit of my ambition; there are many individuals in this town who possess three times that sum, and are not yet satisfied. No, I think I can do no better than pursue the old career; who knows but I may make the two hundred thousand three or four?⁠—there is already a surplus, which is an encouragement; however, we will consider the matter over a goblet of wine; I have observed of late that you have become partial to my Cyprus.”

And it came to pass that, as we were seated over the Cyprus wine, we heard a knock at the door. “Adelánte!”170 cried the Armenian; whereupon the door opened, and in walked a somewhat extraordinary figure⁠—a man in a long loose tunic of a stuff striped with black and yellow; breeches of plush velvet, silk stockings, and shoes with silver buckles. On his head he wore a high-peaked hat; he was tall, had a hooked nose, and in age was about fifty.

“Welcome, Rabbi Manasseh,” said the Armenian. “I know your knock⁠—you are welcome; sit down.”

“I am welcome,” said Manasseh, sitting down; “he⁠—he⁠—he! you know my knock⁠—I bring you money⁠—bueno!”171

There was something very peculiar in the sound of that bueno⁠—I never forgot it.

Thereupon a conversation ensued between Rabbi Manasseh and the Armenian, in a language which I knew to be Spanish, though a peculiar dialect. It related to a mercantile transaction. The Rabbi sighed heavily as he delivered to the other a considerable sum of money.

“It is right,” said the Armenian, handing a receipt. “It is right; and I am quite satisfied.”

“You are satisfied⁠—you have taken money. Bueno, I have nothing to say against your being satisfied.”

“Come, Rabbi,” said the Armenian, “do not despond; it may be your turn next to take money; in the meantime, can’t you be persuaded to taste my Cyprus?”

“He⁠—he⁠—he! señor, you know I do not love wine. I love Noah when he is himself; but, as Janus, I love him not. But you are merry, bueno; you have a right to be so.”

“Excuse me,” said I, “but does Noah ever appear as Janus?”

“He⁠—he⁠—he!” said the Rabbi, “he only appeared as Janus once⁠—una vez quando estuvo borracho;172 which means⁠—”

“I understand,” said I; “when he was ⸻” and I drew the side of my right hand sharply across my left wrist.

“Are you one of our people?” said the Rabbi.

“No,” said I, “I am one of the Goyim;173 but I am only half enlightened. Why should Noah be Janus, when he was in that state?”

“He⁠—he⁠—he!