Hildebrand, or, The Days of Queen Elizabeth: An Historic Romance (Complete)
Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
| Author: | Anonymous | ISBN: | 9781465571038 |
| Publisher: | Library of Alexandria | Publication: | March 8, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Anonymous |
| ISBN: | 9781465571038 |
| Publisher: | Library of Alexandria |
| Publication: | March 8, 2015 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
The last rays of a July sun were extending themselves over the western sky, and that sweetest period of a summer’s day—the cool evening—had just opened, when a horseman made his appearance on the high-road between Exeter and London, in the midland section of Devonshire. He looked a young man; and his years were not so many even, as one would, at first sight, have inferred from his looks. Care and travel, and probably privation, had given a stamp of experience to his features, and an air of reflection to his face, that savoured more of a man of thirty, than one of four or five and twenty years, which was more likely his age. Yet, to judge from his appearance, he was not one of those who would let the cares of life press upon him heavily, or of a constitution that, from any imperfectness or defect, would suffer greatly under the infliction of privation or hardship. His countenance was almost an oval, and sorted well with his light-brown beard and moustache, which, though they were no way scanty, he wore thin and pointed. His complexion was of that red and white which, in men, is so peculiarly English, and would have been fair to effeminacy, only that it bore evidence of having been exposed, no very long time previous, to a more glowing sun than that of England, which had given it a more manly tone, and rendered its beauty more lively and animated. His blue eyes were not large, but they were finely coloured and penetrating, and harmonized well with his fair forehead, which, though not lofty, was unruffled and expansive. His other features were turned with accuracy, and the tone of each was such as, in most instances, marks a sanguine temperament and a generous disposition. Nevertheless, the ensemble of his face was not without a touch of melancholy, though it was probably more the indication and effect of a pensive turn of mind, nursed by vicissitude, or kept in constant exercise by his daily avocations, than the vestige of any past sorrow or present care. Indeed, in the life and animation of every feature, this small trace of gloom beneath the eyes, though it was ever present, was almost lost; and there was no point in his face but manifested, in a greater or a less degree, the spirit of frankness, buoyancy, and good-nature.
The last rays of a July sun were extending themselves over the western sky, and that sweetest period of a summer’s day—the cool evening—had just opened, when a horseman made his appearance on the high-road between Exeter and London, in the midland section of Devonshire. He looked a young man; and his years were not so many even, as one would, at first sight, have inferred from his looks. Care and travel, and probably privation, had given a stamp of experience to his features, and an air of reflection to his face, that savoured more of a man of thirty, than one of four or five and twenty years, which was more likely his age. Yet, to judge from his appearance, he was not one of those who would let the cares of life press upon him heavily, or of a constitution that, from any imperfectness or defect, would suffer greatly under the infliction of privation or hardship. His countenance was almost an oval, and sorted well with his light-brown beard and moustache, which, though they were no way scanty, he wore thin and pointed. His complexion was of that red and white which, in men, is so peculiarly English, and would have been fair to effeminacy, only that it bore evidence of having been exposed, no very long time previous, to a more glowing sun than that of England, which had given it a more manly tone, and rendered its beauty more lively and animated. His blue eyes were not large, but they were finely coloured and penetrating, and harmonized well with his fair forehead, which, though not lofty, was unruffled and expansive. His other features were turned with accuracy, and the tone of each was such as, in most instances, marks a sanguine temperament and a generous disposition. Nevertheless, the ensemble of his face was not without a touch of melancholy, though it was probably more the indication and effect of a pensive turn of mind, nursed by vicissitude, or kept in constant exercise by his daily avocations, than the vestige of any past sorrow or present care. Indeed, in the life and animation of every feature, this small trace of gloom beneath the eyes, though it was ever present, was almost lost; and there was no point in his face but manifested, in a greater or a less degree, the spirit of frankness, buoyancy, and good-nature.
