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Updated: May 12, 2025
It would be tedious to pursue the conversation through all its artful windings, or to develope the gradual approaches by which the heart of Richard Swiveller was gained.
The silence was not of long duration, for Mr Swiveller, after favouring us with several melodious assurances that his heart was in the Highlands, and that he wanted but his Arab steed as a preliminary to the achievement of great feats of valour and loyalty, removed his eyes from the ceiling and subsided into prose again.
Dick Swiveller, who was blockaded at his lodgings, and never could go out without calculating which of the public ways was still left open.
'With which object in view, Marchioness, said Mr Swiveller gravely, 'I shall ask your ladyship's permission to put the board in my pocket, and to retire from the presence when I have finished this tankard; merely observing, Marchioness, that since life like a river is flowing, I care not how fast it rolls on, ma'am, on, while such purl on the bank still is growing, and such eyes light the waves as they run.
"Hamish, how funny you look! What is the matter?" "Must I tell you? It is for your ear alone, mind. There's a certain tradesman's house down there that I'd rather not pass; he has a habit of coming out and dunning me. Do you remember Mr. Dick Swiveller?" Hamish laughed gaily. He would have laughed on his road to prison: it was in his nature. But Arthur seemed to take a leap from his high ropes.
Jeffrey, the hard-headed shallow critic, who declared that Wordsworth 'would never do, cried, 'wept like anything, over your Little Nell. One still laughs as heartily as ever with Dick Swiveller; but who can cry over Little Nell?
I remember saying to myself, as I sat down on a rickety chair: "My good fellow, if you were in America with that fine face and your ready quill, you would have no need to be condescended to by a publisher." Dickens was dressed very much as he has since described Dick Swiveller, minus the swell look.
'She's all my fancy painted her, sir, that's what she is, said Mr Swiveller, taking a long pull at 'the rosy' and looking gravely at his friend. 'She's lovely, she's divine. You know her. 'I remember, said his companion carelessly. 'What of her?
Indeed he so overflowed with liberality and condescension, that, in the fulness of his heart, he invited Mr Swiveller to partake of a bowl of punch with him at that remote and indefinite period which is currently denominated 'one of these days, and paid him many handsome compliments on the uncommon aptitude for business which his conduct on the first day of his devotion to it had so plainly evinced.
Mr Swiveller and Sampson Brass looked from Miss Sally to each other, in a state of bewilderment, and then, as by one impulse, caught up their hats and rushed out into the street darting along in the middle of the road, and dashing aside all obstructions, as though they were running for their lives.
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