The Shadow of Great Britain

458: Chapter 252: The Hot-Tempered German Poet (5K4)_3 458: Chapter 252: The Hot-Tempered German Poet (5K4)_3 ——Prussia said, “If you pay taxes according to our tax laws, then you have a materially unified Germany.

But I’m a bit odd, I specifically want to see the various German states unified in spirit as well.” At that moment, I heard Austria’s Prime Minister Metternich shouting from the side, “You have absolutely no need to worry about that, the spiritual unity is our responsibility, because Austria will be in charge of the censorship!”

Louis, who had already been struggling to hold back his laughter upon seeing this, could no longer contain it when his gaze fell to the bottom of the page.

He stood on the drizzly streets of London, holding his stomach and exploded into laughter, even dropping his black cloth umbrella to the ground.

The last clipping also fluttered from his hand to the ground, bearing the recent poem by Mr.

Heine.

“Lament”

Author: Heinrich Heine

Thus,

I stayed a long while,

Lingering in a foreign land,

Waiting for my beloved girl,

Until in the church, I watched her don the wedding dress.

Damn it, I’m not the groom!

She’s the lovely violet,

Glowing bright in my memory.

This frivolous girl!

I never even laid a finger on her!

Shit, how could I be so stupid?!

Arthur stopped in his tracks, looking at Louis Bonaparte, who was unable to contain his laughter, as Arthur mused on the lingering charm of the poem.

He muttered to himself, “Really, this ‘Lament’ made me feel for the first time that Eld isn’t that far from being a great poet after all.”

As he mumbled, he looked up and suddenly noticed a commotion coming from in front of a tavern.

There stood a typical Briton ruffian with a grey felt hat, holding a bottle, and a young man with brown hair dressed all in black, save for a white shirt.

The ruffian whistled and taunted, “Hey!

Did you know?

I recently went on an adventure in the Caribbean and discovered an island that has neither Jews nor donkeys!

Curious, isn’t it?”

The young man responded indifferently, “I don’t find it strange, just a bit regrettable.”

“Hmm?” The ruffian raised an eyebrow, “Why regrettable?”

The young man explained, “An island without Jews and donkeys is incomplete, so why don’t you join me on this island to make up for this deficiency?

I can leave this afternoon, but as for you, when can you get away?”

The ruffian’s eyes widened, “You…

you Jew, how dare you insult me?”

“I insulted you?” The young man raised his head proudly and said, “You think too little of yourself.

I almost forgot to ask you, why did you assume the role of the donkey?”

The ruffian brandished his bottle threateningly, “You… you bastard…

do you think I’m afraid to teach you a lesson?”

The young man nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, pointing at the bottle in the other man’s hand and then at his own head, “Yes, that’s right, use that bottle and give it to me here!

I’ve recently been wondering how to pass as a genuine Briton, and you’ve just given me an idea.

See, my hair is quite thick, after your bottle comes down, I reckon I’ll be very close to a genuine Briton.”

The young man’s provocation clearly enraged the ruffian, who took up his bottle and was about to smash it down on the young man’s head, but before he could act, someone firmly grasped his wrist.

The ruffian turned to see that behind him, at some point, a strapping gentleman taller than himself had appeared, even followed by a servant.

Arthur, with one hand holding the thug’s wrist and the other nonchalantly withdrawing his Civilization Cane from his belt, swung it in front of the ruffian, “Recognize this?”

The ruffian paused for a moment, then swallowed heavily and slowly nodded.

Arthur asked again, “Then, you should know what I am here for, correct?”

Raindrops mixed with sweat streamed down the ruffian’s face and splashed onto the ground, “Of course, sir, you…

you’ve already presented the Lobster Claws, how…

how could I not know what you’re here for?”

Arthur nodded slightly, “Since you know what I’m here for, may I ask what you do?”

“I…” The ruffian forced a smile onto his face, “You’re new around here, right?

The old-timers in this area all know me.

I’m Hansen, who collects horse dung on Doughty Street; I have a legitimate job.

Today, unfortunately, it’s raining and there’s no horse dung on the roads, so I thought to have a chat with a gentleman while waiting for the rain to pass, then I have to start working.”

Louis, seeing this, pulled a penny from his pocket and slipped it into the ruffian’s hand, “Mr.

Hansen, please go find a tavern by the roadside and have a drink to warm yourself.

It’s very easy to fall ill chatting on the streets in this heavy wind and rain.”

Upon hearing this, the ruffian quickly took the hint, “Oh!

Thank heaven, how could I meet such kind gentlemen as you two today?

I’ll take your advice, I’ll leave right away.

In times like these, I indeed need a drink to warm my jittery heart.”

Arthur released his grip, and the ruffian, clutching the penny, ran off like a rabbit without looking back.

Arthur, watching his retreating figure, was about to greet the brown-haired young man, but the latter preempted him.

The young man looked them both over, glanced up at the sky, and extended his hand in a friendly manner, “I appreciate your kind help.

Now that the donkey has gone to the trough for horse urine, since you two stopped his braying, although it’s a bit early, if you’re not too busy, how about I buy you a drink as well?”

Arthur asked, “Horse urine?”

The young man nodded, “Exactly, the very genuine kind.

The only guarantee I can make is that what we drink must taste better than what the donkey is drinking.”