A duke was he, rich, powerful--and yet
Fate had on him a heavy burden set,
For, while a youth, as he did hunt the boar,
The savage beast his goodly steed did gore,
And as the young duke thus defenceless lay,
With cruel tusk had reft his looks away,
Had marred his comely features and so mauled him
That, 'hind his back, "The ugly Duke" folk called
him--
My daughter GILLIAN interposeth:
GILL: An ugly hero?
MYSELF: That is so.
GILL: An ugly hero, father? O, absurd! Whoever of an "ugly" hero heard?
MYSELF: I'll own, indeed, I've come across but few--
GILL: But a duke--and ugly! Father, this from you?
MYSELF: My duke is ugly, very, for good reason, As shall appear in due and
proper season!
GILL: I'm sure no one will want to read him then, For "heroes" all should
be most handsome men. So make him handsome, please, or he won't do.
MYSELF: By heaven, girl--no, plain heroes are too few!
GILL: Then ev'ry one will leave him on the shelf!
MYSELF: Why, then, I'll read the poor fellow myself.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25