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Updated: May 25, 2025
"The same, Lord Codlingsby," the individual so apostrophized replied. "I told you we should meet again where you would little expect me. Will it please you to enter? this is Friday, and we close at sunset. It rejoices my heart to welcome you home." So saying Rafael laid his hand on his breast, and bowed, an oriental reverence.
No doubt they have unfairly reacted so as to dim our sense of Disraeli's real genius as a writer. When we know Codlingsby by heart, as every one with a sense of humour must do, it is impossible for us to keep our countenance when we take up the palaver about Sidonia and the Chosen Race.
Miriam! this is the Lord Codlingsby." She had been seated at an ivory pianoforte on a mother-of-pearl music-stool, trying a sonata of Herz. She rose when thus apostrophized. Miriam de Mendoza rose and greeted the stranger. The Talmud relates that Adam had two wives Zillah the dark beauty; Eva the fair one. The ringlets of Zillah were black; those of Eva were golden.
It was perhaps the cause which he had most deeply at heart, from its intimate relation to his own superb ambition and pride. But it has made no real way, nor has it made any converts, unless we count Daniel Deronda as amongst them. Thackeray's "Codlingsby" has almost extinguished "Sidonia."
"THIS your home, Rafael?" said Lord Codlingsby. "Why not?" Rafael answered. "I am tired of Schloss Schinkenstein; the Rhine bores me after a while. It is too hot for Florence; besides they have not completed the picture-gallery, and my place smells of putty. You wouldn't have a man, mon cher, bury himself in his chateau in Normandy, out of the hunting season? The Rugantino Palace stupefies me.
"Well hit with your left, Lord Codlingsby; well parried, Lord Codlingsby; claret drawn, by Jupiter!" "Ours is werry fine," the landlord said. "Will your Highness have Chateau Margaux or Lafitte?" "He never can be going to match himself against that bargeman!"
Rafael exclaimed, as an enormous boatman no other than Rullock indeed, the most famous bruiser of Cambridge, and before whose fists the Gownsmen went down like ninepins fought his way up to the spot where, with admirable spirit and resolution, Lord Codlingsby and one or two of his friends were making head against a number of the town.
"Hush!" said Rafael, leading him from the room. "Au revoir, dear Codlingsby. His Majesty is one of US," he whispered at the door; "so is the Pope of Rome; so is . . ." a whisper concealed the rest. "Gracious powers! is it so?" said Codlingsby, musing. He entered into Holywell Street. The sun was sinking. "It is time," said he, "to go and fetch Armida to the Olympic." The gabion was ours.
After the coroner's inquest, Mendoza gave ten thousand pounds to each of the bargeman's ten children, and it was thus his first acquaintance was formed with Lord Codlingsby. But we are lingering on the threshold of the house in Holywell Street. Let us go in. Godfrey and Rafael passed from the street into the outer shop of the old mansion in Holywell Street.
Codlingsby was about laughingly to answer for indeed he was amazed to find all the affairs of the world represented here, and Holywell Street the centre of Europe when three knocks of a peculiar nature were heard, and Mendoza starting up, said, "Ha! there are only four men in the world who know that signal."
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