F Der. And you would have me call at Thumper's, and get her shod? Scrape. No, no! I had forgotten to tell you that I let neighbor Dobson shoe her last week, by way of trial; and, to do him justice, I must own he shoes extremely well. Der. But, if the poor creature has lost so much skin from off her back Scrape. Poh, poh! That is just one of our Tim's large stories. I do assure you it was not at first bigger than my thumb-nail; and I am certain it has not grown any since. Der. At least, however, let her have something she will eat, since she refuses hay. Scrape. She did, indeed, refuse hay this morning; but the only reason was, that she was crammed full of oats. You have nothing to fear, neighbor; the mare is in perfect trim; and she will skim you over the ground like a bird. I wish you a good journey and a profitable job. Come, come along to the barn. This way, neighbor, this way! (He pulls DERBY off, L., and TIM follows.) BERQUIN. Glendower. Hail, good cousin Percy! hail, good cousin Hotspur ! For, by that name, as oft as Lancaster Doth speak of you, his cheeks look pale, and, with A rising sigh, he wisheth you in heaven. Hotspur. And you in the other place, as often as he hears Owen Glendower spoken of. Glen. I can not blame him. At my nativity The frame and huge foundation of the earth Hot. Why, so it would have done At the same season if your mother's cat Had but kittened, though yourself had never been born. If you suppose as fearing you it shook. Glen. The heavens were all on fire; the earth did tremble. Hot. O then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, HOTSPUR AND GLENDOWER. 247 And not in fear of your nativity. Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth Within her held, which, for enlargement striving, Glen. Cousin, of many men I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave I am not in the roll of common men. Where is he living, clipped in with the sea That chides the banks of England, Wales, or Scotland,— And bring him out that is but woman's son Or hold me pace in deep experiments. Hot. I think there is no man speaks better Welsh. For I was trained up in the English court, Where, being but young, I framed to the harp Many an English ditty, lovely well, And gave the tongue a helpful ornament, A virtue that was never seen in you. Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it, with all my heart. I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew! Than one of those same meter ballad-mongers; I'd rather hear a brazen candlestick turned, Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree; Tis like the forced gate of a shuffling nag! Glen. (Crosses to L.) I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Hot. (Crosses to R.) Why, so can I, or so can any man: But will they come, when you do call for them? Glen. Why, I can teach you to command the devil. 1 Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to suame the devil (Exit, R.) Hot. No more, and welcome, Owen Glendower! (Laughing.) He can "call spirits from the vasty deep!" I'd like to see him do it. I tell you what, He held me last night at the least nine hours In reckoning up the several devils' names That were his lackeys: I cried "humph," and "well, go to," But marked him not a word. O! he's as tedious As is a tired horse, a railing wife; Worse than a smoky house; I had rather live (Exit, L.) SHAKSPEARE (altered). XXII. DAVID AND GOLIAH. Enter GOLIAH, L. Goliah. Where is the mighty man of war, who dares Has he to boast? Is his bright armory Thick-set with spears, and swords, and coats of mail, Subdued? Where is the mortal man so bold, So much a wretch, so out of love with life, To dare the weight of this uplifted spear? Come, advance! Philistia's gods to Israel's! Sound, my herald, Sound for the battle straight! Enter DAVID, R. David. Behold thy foe! Gol. I see him not, DAVID AND GOLIAH. 249 Dav. Behold him here! Gol. Say, where? Direct my sight. I do not war with boys. Dav. I stand prepared; thy single arm to mine. Dav. The election of my sovereign falls on me. Dav. (Crosses to L.) I do defy thee, The armies of the living God I serve? By me He will avenge upon thy head Thy nation's sins and thine! Armed with His name, That ever bathed his hostile spear in blood. Gol. Indeed! 't is wondrous well! Now, by my gods! The stripling plays the orator! Vain boy! Keep close to that same bloodless war of words, And thou shalt still be safe. Tongue-valiant warrior! Dissevered each from each, ere long to feed And toss in air thy head all gashed with wounds. Dav. Ha! say'st thou so? Come on, then! Mark us well. Thou comest to me with sword, and spear, and shield! In the dread name of Israel's God I come; The living Lord of hosts, whom thou defiest! Yet, though no shield I bring, no arms, except To my victorious arm. This day I mean I dare thee to the trial! Gol. Follow me. In this good spear I trust. Dav. I trust in heaven! The God of battles stimulates my arm, (Exit, L.) (Exit, L.) HANNAH MORE. And fires my soul with ardor not its own. Scene, DR. GREGORY'S study. A table, C., and chair, R. and L. Enter PATIENT, L., a plump Glasgow merchant. DR. GREGORY discovered reading, R. Patient. Good-morning, Dr. Gregory! I'm just come into Edinburgh about some law business, and I thought when I was here, at any rate, I might just as weel take your advice, sir, about my trouble. Doctor. Pray, sir, sit down. (PATIENT sits, L.) And now, my good sir, what may your trouble be? Pa. Indeed, doctor, I'm not very sure; but I'm thinking it's a kind of weakness that makes me dizzy at times, and a kind of pinkling about my stomach; - I'm just na right. Dr. You are from the west country, I should suppose, sir? Pa. Yes, sir, from Glasgow. Dr. Ay; pray, sir, are you a glutton? Pa. Heaven forbid, sir! I'm one of the plainest men living in all the west country. Dr. Then, perhaps, you are a drunkard? Pa. No, Dr. Gregory; thank Heaven, no one can accuse me I'm of the dissenting persuasion, doctor, and an elder; so you may suppose I'm na drunkard. Dr. I'll suppose no such thing till you tell me your mode of life. I'm so much puzzled with your symptoms, sir, that I should wish to hear in detail what you do eat and drink. When do you breakfast, and what do you take at it? |