A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain
page 36 of 431 (08%)
page 36 of 431 (08%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
afraid of Merlin's pretended magic as Clarence was, certainly
a superior man like me ought to be shrewd enough to contrive some way to take advantage of such a state of things. I went on thinking, and worked out a plan. Then I said: "Get up. Pull yourself together; look me in the eye. Do you know why I laughed?" "No--but for our blessed Lady's sake, do it no more." "Well, I'll tell you why I laughed. Because I'm a magician myself." "Thou!" The boy recoiled a step, and caught his breath, for the thing hit him rather sudden; but the aspect which he took on was very, very respectful. I took quick note of that; it indicated that a humbug didn't need to have a reputation in this asylum; people stood ready to take him at his word, without that. I resumed. "I've known Merlin seven hundred years, and he--" "Seven hun--" "Don't interrupt me. He has died and come alive again thirteen times, and traveled under a new name every time: Smith, Jones, Robinson, Jackson, Peters, Haskins, Merlin--a new alias every time he turns up. I knew him in Egypt three hundred years ago; I knew him in India five hundred years ago--he is always blethering around in my way, everywhere I go; he makes me tired. He don't amount to shucks, as a magician; knows some of the old common |
|