1985 Viscountess Viola Vorpel
Notes on the fragments
These fragments are like the Mallards themselves: grand, ridiculous, elusive. They make sense only with the proper keys and the keys are, of course, never where you expect to find them. A house-keeper might keep them in her apron; a Duke might swallow them whole and forget; a Mallard might sell them for a song and then claim them lost. And yet, even without the keys, there is meaning. Each reading will unlock another door—though often not the one you thought you were opening.
One ought not to expect heraldry to speak the truth. Our Mallards bear lettuces and gryphons on their shields, never the bird whose name they carry. A pity, perhaps, for the drakes at least are gorgeously attired, shimmering green and gold. The hens are duller to look at, yet much cleverer: their wits, not their plumage, keep the brood alive. In this, as in so much else, the heralds preferred invention to observation.
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