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Updated: June 9, 2025
He gave his small, chuckling laugh. "Oh, I, too, have thoughts; I, too, watch the play, Pedro Mexia, señors, is not so gross of wit as he is thought to be!" Nevil leaned across the table. "Leper to himself, and to his world! But to God all cleanly beneath that mantle which he drew over his forehead and his eyes! What do you mean? Sir Mortimer Ferne declared himself a coward and a traitor!"
Writing more than a century after Fortescue, Sir John Ferne, in his 'Blazon of Gentrie, the Glory of Generosity, and the Lacy's Nobility, observes: "Nobleness of blood, joyned with virtue, compteth the person as most meet to the enterprize of any public service; and for that cause it was not for nought that our antient governors in this land, did with a special foresight and wisdom provide, that none should be admitted into the Houses of Court, being seminaries sending forth men apt to the government of justice, except he were a gentleman of blood.
In the flashing of the lightning he loosed his rigid clasp, and the sword, clanking against the scabbard, fell upon the sand. The lightning widened into a sheet of pale violet and the surf broke with a deeper voice. "Canst thou not find me, O mine enemy?" cried Ferne, aloud. Presently, the boy yet clinging to him, he sank down beside him on the sand. "Sleep, boy; sleep," he said.
I looked into Pennant's Tour in Scotland. He says little of this fort; but that 'the barracks, &c. form several streets . This is aggrandising. Mr. Ferne observed, if he had said they form a square, with a row of buildings before it, he would have given a juster description. Dr.
"When I give my sword to Death," said Ferne, absently. "Ay, lad, when I give my sword to Death.... There again, do you not hear the singing? It is the wind, I think, and not the people of the sea. It hath a mocking sound.... When I give my sword to Death." From the tops above them fell a voice of Stentor. "Sail ho! sail ho!"
He gave us a letter of introduction to Mr. Ferne, master of stores at Fort George. He shewed it to me. It recommended 'two celebrated gentlemen; no less than Dr. Johnson, author of his Dictionary, and Mr. Boswell, known at Edinburgh by the name of Paoli. He said he hoped I had no objection to what he had written; if I had, he would alter it.
And as I wrote, from the court, from the camp, from my poor house of Ferne, I said: 'This will tell her how in her I reverence womankind, and, 'These are flowers for her coronal will she not know it among a thousand wreaths? and, 'This, ah, this, will show her how deeply now hath worked the arrow! and, 'Now she cannot choose but know her soul will hear my soul cry! And that those letters might come to your eyes, I, following the fashion, sealed them only with feigned names, altered circumstance.
His tone was of simple wonder, and there went round the board a laugh for Baldry's boasting. That adventurer started to his feet, his eyes, that were black, deep-set, and very bright, fixed upon Ferne. "That also," he answered. "An I should die before our swords cross, that also!" He turned and left the cabin.
Mr Ferne and Major Brewse first carried us to wait on Sir Eyre Coote, whose regiment, the 37th, was lying here, and who then commanded the fort. He asked us to dine with him, which we agreed to do. Before dinner we examined the fort. The Major explained the fortification to us, and Mr Ferne gave us an account of the stores.
Barker of Roxley Farm, over by Blackstable Church, and I used to go and stay there often when I was a girl. Isn't that a funny thing now?" She looked at him with a new interest, and a brightness came into her faded eyes. She asked him whether he knew Ferne.
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