Capitolo 4
The halo of Viceroyal of scarlet domestics, with the whole value of crowns,
supporting, and shields in gilded embroidery and it laces, without
emotion! As you can the gold tons and silver dish that once you/they have belonged
to John Company, Bahadur, and what time I rest on the axle of moan of
the Ornamental Gran, between a glory of the flowers of Himalayan or flowers
from the fields of Eden of asphodel, is reflected on the retina of the eye
without producing positive shivers and vibrations of the joy (that is not able
is measured in terms of _ohm_ or _farad_) shooting on and down the
bone marrow and in the most unknown places to like! Me certainly
you/he/she can never see the luxurious flower of the silver batons systematized in
happy-go-lucky groups on the enormous portals without a feeling to approach
to frighten and to adore, and a tendency to throwing the small coin around with a
profusion of excellent mediaeval. Certainly I can ever exhaust those depth
gilded cauldrons that boil with champagne without a tendency to break
in strong expressions of the inside music and the festiveness that slowly boil
in my soul. Regards of gun, perceived galloping the processions of
landaus, the beautiful teams of horses English, trains of private cafe
carriages (it refreshed with water that drips on grasses of jungle sweets)
dripping through the earth exposed to the sun, insane anxious of the beauty with
creation of eyes starved a delirious welcome to every stage, the whole one
country that blooms in dance and banquet and fresh girls to every footstep
taken--these form the equitable guerdon that mixes my breast to certain
moments and resolution manufactures me, after supper often to despise delights
and alive hard-working days", and he/she sells my beautiful soul, illuminated with
art and poetry, to the devil of Industry with reversion to Mr. John
Strachey.
As mysterious and delicious it is the fresh penetralias of the Of viceroy
Office! It is the censorium of the empire; it is the place of thought;
be the abode of the moral responsibility! What battles, that famines,