3 books to know Horatian Satire. Anthony Trollope. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Anthony Trollope
Издательство: Bookwire
Серия: 3 books to know
Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9783968585017
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a recollection that came too late.

      O Fate!

      They buried him where he lay,

      He sleeps awaiting the Day,

      In state,

      And two Possible Puns, moon-eyed and wan,

      Gloom over the grave and then move on.

      Dead for a Scarabee!

      Fernando Tapple

      SCARIFICATION, n. A form of penance practised by the mediaeval pious. The rite was performed, sometimes with a knife, sometimes with a hot iron, but always, says Arsenius Asceticus, acceptably if the penitent spared himself no pain nor harmless disfigurement. Scarification, with other crude penances, has now been superseded by benefaction. The founding of a library or endowment of a university is said to yield to the penitent a sharper and more lasting pain than is conferred by the knife or iron, and is therefore a surer means of grace. There are, however, two grave objections to it as a penitential method: the good that it does and the taint of justice.

      SCEPTER, n. A king's staff of office, the sign and symbol of his authority. It was originally a mace with which the sovereign admonished his jester and vetoed ministerial measures by breaking the bones of their proponents.

      SCIMITAR, n. A curved sword of exceeding keenness, in the conduct of which certain Orientals attain a surprising proficiency, as the incident here related will serve to show. The account is translated from the Japanese of Shusi Itama, a famous writer of the thirteenth century.

      When the great Gichi-Kuktai was Mikado he condemned to

      decapitation Jijiji Ri, a high officer of the Court. Soon after

      the hour appointed for performance of the rite what was his

      Majesty's surprise to see calmly approaching the throne the man

      who should have been at that time ten minutes dead!

      "Seventeen hundred impossible dragons!" shouted the enraged

      monarch. "Did I not sentence you to stand in the market-place and

      have your head struck off by the public executioner at three

      o'clock? And is it not now 3:10?"

      "Son of a thousand illustrious deities," answered the

      condemned minister, "all that you say is so true that the truth is

      a lie in comparison. But your heavenly Majesty's sunny and

      vitalizing wishes have been pestilently disregarded. With joy I

      ran and placed my unworthy body in the market-place. The

      executioner appeared with his bare scimitar, ostentatiously

      whirled it in air, and then, tapping me lightly upon the neck,

      strode away, pelted by the populace, with whom I was ever a

      favorite. I am come to pray for justice upon his own dishonorable

      and treasonous head."

      "To what regiment of executioners does the black-boweled

      caitiff belong?" asked the Mikado.

      "To the gallant Ninety-eight Hundred and Thirty-seventh—I

      know the man. His name is Sakko-Samshi."

      "Let him be brought before me," said the Mikado to an

      attendant, and a half-hour later the culprit stood in the

      Presence.

      "Thou bastard son of a three-legged hunchback without thumbs!"

      roared the sovereign—"why didst thou but lightly tap the neck

      that it should have been thy pleasure to sever?"

      "Lord of Cranes and Cherry Blooms," replied the executioner,

      unmoved, "command him to blow his nose with his fingers."

      Being commanded, Jijiji Ri laid hold of his nose and trumpeted

      like an elephant, all expecting to see the severed head flung

      violently from him. Nothing occurred: the performance prospered

      peacefully to the close, without incident.

      All eyes were now turned on the executioner, who had grown as

      white as the snows on the summit of Fujiama. His legs trembled

      and his breath came in gasps of terror.

      "Several kinds of spike-tailed brass lions!" he cried; "I am a

      ruined and disgraced swordsman! I struck the villain feebly

      because in flourishing the scimitar I had accidentally passed it

      through my own neck! Father of the Moon, I resign my office."

      So saying, he gasped his top-knot, lifted off his head, and

      advancing to the throne laid it humbly at the Mikado's feet.

      SCRAP-BOOK, n. A book that is commonly edited by a fool. Many persons of some small distinction compile scrap-books containing whatever they happen to read about themselves or employ others to collect. One of these egotists was addressed in the lines following, by Agamemnon Melancthon Peters:

      Dear Frank, that scrap-book where you boast

      You keep a record true

      Of every kind of peppered roast

      That's made of you;

      Wherein you paste the printed gibes

      That revel round your name,

      Thinking the laughter of the scribes

      Attests your fame;

      Where all the pictures you arrange

      That comic pencils trace—

      Your funny figure and your strange

      Semitic face—

      Pray lend it me. Wit I have not,

      Nor art, but there I'll list

      The daily drubbings you'd have got

      Had God a fist.

      SCRIBBLER, n. A professional writer whose views are antagonistic to one's own.

      SCRIPTURES, n. The sacred books of our holy religion, as distinguished from the false and profane writings on which all other faiths are based.

      SEAL, n. A mark impressed upon certain kinds of documents to attest their authenticity and authority. Sometimes it is stamped upon wax, and attached to the paper, sometimes into the paper itself. Sealing, in this sense, is a survival of an ancient custom of inscribing important papers with cabalistic words or signs to give them a magical efficacy independent of the authority that they represent. In the British museum are preserved many ancient papers, mostly of a sacerdotal character, validated by necromantic pentagrams and other devices, frequently initial letters of words to conjure with; and in many instances these are attached in the same way that seals are appended now. As nearly every reasonless and apparently meaningless custom, rite or observance of modern times had origin in some remote utility, it is pleasing to note an example of ancient nonsense evolving in the process of ages into something really useful. Our word "sincere" is derived from sine cero, without wax, but the learned are not in agreement as to whether this refers to the absence of the cabalistic signs, or to that of the wax with which letters were formerly closed from public scrutiny. Either view of the matter will serve one in immediate need of an hypothesis. The initials L.S., commonly appended to signatures of legal documents, mean locum sigillis, the place of the seal, although the seal is no longer used —an admirable example of conservatism distinguishing Man