« Excuses, Excuses | Main | Taking the Unicorn by the Horn »

November 18, 1677

Burn Baby Burn!

It has been far too long since I have committed words to a page. And perhaps, the less I say, the better it for everyone, since the events of the past two weeks have dire ones indeed. These dreary winter months are truly agony for a right thinking Catholic, between having stones thrown at me on All Souls Day, and the atrocity that is the 5th of November, I have found myself chased down the street by club wielding, false thinking Church of England louts no on more than one occasion.

I thought that having had their fill of “Papist Bashing,” I could safely show my face at the Unicorn without having a flagon tossed with great alacrity at my cranium. Thankfully, in this I was correct, and soon found myself enjoying the softer comforts of that establishment on more or less a regular basis. After all, I do own it.

However, my relationship with the Unicorn was to soon bear bitter fruit. Odyllia has been in quite the state since Patrick has gone mute, so much so that one begins to wonder if their relationship was not strictly “business,” but whether the poor girl had begun to have thoughts above her station. Now Odyllia is a top earner, and her caterwauling over Patrick’s decrepit mind meant less money in my pocket. If I was a cruel man (like Jack), I would have long ago sent the spoilt tart packing. But, being a Good Christian, I took pity on her, and led her accompany me to the Griffin one evening in hopes of straightening the poor dear out.

Unfortunately for the both of us, the anti-Catholic fervor which had passed through the streets of London had found a place to fester in the Griffin. Four rounds into the night, several lads took it into their heads that if I as “a dirty Pope loving Irish dog,” then Odyllia must be a “witch.” I am unsure as to how this connection was made, but being in a state of inebriation, I could not quite convince them otherwise. Odyllia was wearing black - to mourn Patrick’s state - she constantly mumbled to herself - and her eyes did have a hint of madness to them. Thus, while I was quite insulted by their slandering of the Holy Father, I could not refute that Odyllia might indeed be a witch.

What followed, however, was completely uncalled for.


TrackBack URL for this entry:

Listed below are links to weblogs that reference Burn Baby Burn!:


The comments to this entry are closed.