I foresaw indeed that such acquaintance would assuredly lead to a lessening of my influence over him; but he was growing old, and I might at any time, have to look for some more permanent position, so I did not feel greatly alarmed. Besides, having my old friend Dick, even though married, near me again would be a source of very great gratification and support, Mrs Bond readily accepted the governor's invitation and in due time arrived on the island with all her belongings.
The result I anticipated was quickly verified; and the coming of Mrs Bond and her party gave rise to many new and interesting complications, which will form the subject of succeeding chapters.
CHAPTER 8
The selection and arrangement of Mrs Bond's future residence was entrusted to the governor and myself.
To account for the interest he took in the matter, it was given out that she had been the wife of an old friend of his to whom he had promised when dying that he would look after and protect his widow and orphans.
It so happened that there was a suitable and commodious house, not far from the government grounds, at that time untenanted. The governor at once engaged it for his friend's widow, and set about having it furnished and fitted up, not forgetting a special boudoir or sanctum for Mrs Bond's own use.
In the midst of our preparations, another batch of letters came to hand, telling us that they were just about embarking and containing Dick's certificate and testimonials for the governor and also some papers for myself.
Dick had a taste for scribbling what he called poetry, and as it may gratify my readers, I transcribe for them the specimen which I received on this occasion. It show, I think, some talent, but I am not sure that it is mythologically correct.
Venus and the Centaur Arms! and the thing, I sing — half-man, half horse;
Impelled by fate a sort of equine cross, Whose development half in human mould, But left the other half as it was foal'd.
Unique was he; no other of his form Was there to gambol 'mid the Aegean storm;
And all too proud the common herd to seek While owning human faculty to speak.
He lived alone till passion claimed its sway; 'Twas the rutting season, and the month of May.
Wandering forlorn in this unpleasant guise In vain each nymph, incontinent, he tries;
No sooner does the monster breathe of love, Than shrieks of laughter echo through the grove; 'A hideous beast like thee!' young Lesbia cries;
And straight each wanton from his presence flies; 'We'll none of the' the sylvan nymphs declare.
'Tis pity Pegasus is not a mare.'
Despairing tears his human cheeks bedewed, Condemned to solitude, unloved, unwed;
Sought he a mate throughout the whole of earth, His importunities but moved their mirth.
At length a settled gloom upon him falls, And on Love's Goddess in despair he calls;
Scarce had his prayer re-echo'd through the wood, Than lovely Venus in his presence stood.
Her beauteous form in all its naked grace, And wreathing smiles illuminate her face.
Her faultless limbs no envious drap'ry hides — A living model which all art derides.
To her the Centaur his petition made,
And in his misery invoked her aid.
The Goddess smiled and heaved a gentle sigh, Then to the Centaur blushing made reply: 'Oh! noble Centaur, whose peculiar race To form of stallion add the human grace;
And has thou, piteous being! felt the dart Of my unsparing offspring in they heart?
Alas poor Centaur! could not Cupid spare, Malicious boy! but plant his arrow there;
For those delights which gentle lovers prize, Thou art not fitted, Centaur, in the eyes Of those fair maids who thus they form deride;
Nature has laws by which we must abide.'
Thus spake the Goddess, and her beauty's charm To his nature sounded the alarm;
Her naked shape and the secrets thus reveal'd To his fierce instincts all at once appeal'd.
Extreme desires assail his wanton heart, And tingling fires through all his body dart, Fancy runs riot as he views her form, Her charming naked parts, and glances warm.
To her the Centaur, as he seized her hand: 'Art thou Love's goddess, and my pains withstand;
Can'st thou not quench the burning fires within?
To Venus all divine, no love is sin.'
Thus spoke the Centaur, while her roving eyes Observed his weapon of portentous size;
A lively red suffused her damask cheeks, And her clasped hands her strong emotion speaks.
Not such as won her, when the shipling boy, She first embraced and taught him to enjoy Within her circling arms the prurient bliss:
His latest spasms dying in a kiss.
'Twas not Adonis now, the Goddess fired, To more substantial joys her mind aspired;
Effective means to stir such wanton hearts Had he possessed of such stupendous parts.
Now beat his pulses with inflamed desire, His stallion nature owns the mystic fire, His crimson cheeks betray his burning lust, The Goddess saw it, gently sighed and blushed.
Intense emotions struggle in his breast, And his rude weapon shows its ruddy crest;
Its swollen veins and long, distended length With frequent jerks proclaim its stallion strength.
The wanton Goddess feels the lustful fire, And all aflame, now pants with warm desire, His trembling hands rove o'er her glowing charms, And wild with joy he clasps her in his arms.
Her eyes askance devour the bestial brand, Impulsively she takes it in her hand.
With gentle pressures she his lust requites, And firmer grasps afford him new delights.
The throbbing weapon raised on high its crest, While Venus kneeling pressed it to her breast.
Now too excited long to brook delay The snorting monster urged the prurient play:
So Venus forward on the bank reclined,
While the Centaur, rampant, mounted her behind, With furious thrusts his untaught falchion plies, Beats round the bush, and entrance vainly tries.
But sacred pity acts in godlike minds:
Plants the fierce point between her lily thighs, And lust-distended, twixt the lips it lies, With poignant throbs all swollen and impressed, While Venus labours to engulf the rest.
Constrained by that firm grasp and guided true The stiffened gristle disappears from view.
Propelled by lustful force within it slips, And stretches wide the love-moist roseate lips — Ah! thus forever love will have its way:
So Venus cries, enraptured with the play;
Not less, the Centaur madd'ning impulse feels, And beats the verdure with his horny heels — While roars expressive of his joy are forced From his hoarse throat, and in the woods are lost — Divine sensations now he feels, and new, Convulsive pressures prove her pleasures too, While tingling raptures fill the Centaur's veins, And each convulsion fresh insertion gains, Till gorged at length with monster such as this, The fainting Goddess owns the melting bliss.
With furious thrusts the Centaur's throbbing shaft In Venus' cunt lies buried t the haft, Thrust upon thrust the greedy monster dealt.
While hot with lust the enraptured Goddess knelt.
His joy increased till nature could not more, And his big globes were banging at the door, So close the pressure, despite her pains, The quick'ning pleasure bubbles in his veins.
Too short! too warm! the luscious struggle ends, And with a howl the clinging Centaur spends.
As spouted forth when sweet Narcissus died, From Mother Earth the clear cerulean tide;
So now behold the swollen limb distend And spout the exquisite essence from its end — With furious pressures and impulsive thrust He shoots the torrents of his heated lust, While pent-up nature makes prodigious throes, And the thick juice in right profusion flows.