Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

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torn me into a certain number of pieces, I shall not feel it; and if I did, if each torture could
last a life, if each limb were to feel the agonies of a whole body, what then? I would bear
all—all—all—all—all—ALL!" My breast heaved—my form dilated—my eye flashed as I
spoke these words. "Tyrants!" said I, "dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." Having thus
clinched the argument, I was silent.
The venerable Grand Vizier turned away; I saw a tear trickling down his cheeks.
"What a constancy," said he. "Oh, that such beauty and such bravery should be doomed so
soon to quit the earth!"
His tall companion only sneered and said, "AND BELINDA—?"
"Ha!" said I, "ruffian, be still!—heaven will protect her spotless innocence. Holkar, I know
thee, and thou knowest ME too! Who, with his single sword, destroyed thy armies? Who,
with his pistol, cleft in twain thy nose-ring? Who slew thy generals? Who slew thy
elephants? Three hundred mighty beasts went forth to battle: of these I slew one hundred
and thirty-five! Dog, coward, ruffian, tyrant, unbeliever! Gahagan hates thee, spurns thee,
spits on thee!"
Holkar, as I made these uncomplimentary remarks, gave a scream of rage, and, drawing his
scimitar, rushed on to despatch me at once (it was the very thing I wished for), when the
third person sprang forward, and seizing his arm, cried—
"Papa! oh, save him!" It was Puttee Rooge! "Remember," continued she, "his
misfortunes—remember, oh, remember my—love!"—and here she blushed, and putting
one finger into her mouth, and banging down her head, looked the very picture of modest
affection.
Holkar sulkily sheathed his scimitar, and muttered, "'Tis better as it is; had I killed him
now, I had spared him the torture. None of this shameless fooling, Puttee Rooge,"
continued the tyrant, dragging her away. "Captain Gahagan dies three hours from hence."
Puttee Rooge gave one scream and fainted—her father and the Vizier carried her off
between them; nor was I loth to part with her, for, with all her love, she was as ugly as the
deuce.
They were gone—my fate was decided. I had but three hours more of life: so I flung myself
again on the sofa, and fell profoundly asleep. As it may happen to any of my readers to be
in the same situation, and to be hanged themselves, let me earnestly entreat them to adopt
this plan of going to sleep, which I for my part have repeatedly found to be successful. It
saves unnecessary annoyance, it passes away a great deal of unpleasant time, and it
prepares one to meet like a man the coming catastrophe.