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February 04, 2006
A drink with Mr Turpin
Another illustration for the Dick Turpin book, but first some text from Rebecca Stephens:
“Looks strong, don’t he?” The gaolers, who welcome you in with the air of pimping cock bawds, are proud of their charge; they sell him daily and live high on the proceeds. “Come and have a Drop of Jackey and test your Strength – go on, give him an Arm-Wrestle, try your Luck against the bravest, boldest of all the Bully Ruffins.”
“He’s looking at us – what does he want?”
“Take a Drink with ’im.”
“Yes, let’s See him Drink!”
“Mr. Turpin, sir; Pray what Would you say if you met us on the Heath on a dark Night?”
“Yes! What?”
“Go on, say it!”
The dells – ladies, I should say, as all three are local gentry – are the instigators of this mischief. They are quite throbbing with excitement at their daring.
The two men – one husband, one brother – are sheepishly come along for the sake of propriety, honour and – let’s admit – curiosity. But they’re the stooges of their womenfolk and, as they hand out coins to Dick’s keepers, they are not insensible of the waves of sardonic superiority emanating from the big man, sitting squatly on a stool in the corner of the cell. He passed for a gentleman, more than a year hereabouts, it’s said, but he’s not stood up for your ladies.
And the smirking gaolers who, having made good money out of their infamous guest, treat him with complicit favour, say nothing. But as tin beakers of warm gin and sugared water are passed around, then, he rises.
Posted by john at February 4, 2006 10:51 PM