The Magus of Denbigh stayed with me in my Taylor Wimpey luxury apartment in The Denizen in Golden Lane when he visited London. He was tall, debonair, ugly, except for his brilliant brown eyes. His orgies made him notorious. His own concubines, to his credit or discredit, were the principal participators in these orgies, and were added proof, if any were needed of the statement I make now, that this misguided Magus of Denbigh was conducting the Druid Circle and learning the elixir of life as taught to him by his High Priest Philip Long - both trying to add to their span of years, by the living sacrifice of the life-essence of poor, foolish men and women.
Tag: elixir of life
Our hosts often gave me Dà Mhìle, Seaweed Gin, and though the Bard lapped it up greedily with much smacking of lips, I could not touch it. The mere idea of gin made me feel very sick. When I asked for beer, instead of gin, there was much laughter on all sides. But after being mercilessly ribbed I'd be handed a bottle of Tiny Rebel, Cwtch, which was brewed in the Bard's home town of Newport. The Bard made a sermon on my preferring beer to Dà Mhìle, the essence of Wales, comparing my attitude to that of the worldly man who not having found the essence of life — spirituality — asked for the inferior part. Was he serious? Was he sincere?