There is a psalm that speaks
Of God's parental mercies--with Idonea
I used to sing it.
Of God's parental mercies--with Idonea
I used to sing it.
Wordsworth - 1
--Hark'ee, my Friend,
I'll plant myself before Lord Clifford's Castle,
A surly mastiff kennels at the gate,
And he shall howl and I will laugh, a medley
Most tunable.
OSWALD In faith, a pleasant scheme;
But take your sword along with you, for that
Might in such neighbourhood find seemly use. --
But first, how wash our hands of this old Man?
MARMADUKE Oh yes, that mole, that viper in the path;
Plague on my memory, him I had forgotten.
OSWALD You know we left him sitting--see him yonder.
MARMADUKE Ha! ha! --
OSWALD As 'twill be but a moment's work,
I will stroll on; you follow when 'tis done.
[Exeunt. ]
SCENE changes to another part of the Moor at a short distance--HERBERT
is discovered seated on a stone
HERBERT A sound of laughter, too! --'tis well--I feared,
The Stranger had some pitiable sorrow
Pressing upon his solitary heart.
Hush! --'tis the feeble and earth-loving wind
That creeps along the bells of the crisp heather.
Alas! 'tis cold--I shiver in the sunshine--
What can this mean?
There is a psalm that speaks
Of God's parental mercies--with Idonea
I used to sing it. --Listen! --what foot is there?
[Enter MARMADUKE]
MARMADUKE (aside--looking at HERBERT)
And I have loved this Man! and _she_ hath loved him!
And I loved her, and she loves the Lord Clifford!
And there it ends;--if this be not enough
To make mankind merry for evermore,
Then plain it is as day, that eyes were made
For a wise purpose--verily to weep with!
[Looking round. ]
A pretty prospect this, a masterpiece
Of Nature, finished with most curious skill!
(To HERBERT. ) Good Baron, have you ever practised tillage?
Pray tell me what this land is worth by the acre?
HERBERT How glad I am to hear your voice! I know not
Wherein I have offended you;--last night
I found in you the kindest of Protectors;
This morning, when I spoke of weariness,
You from my shoulder took my scrip and threw it
About your own; but for these two hours past
Once only have you spoken, when the lark
Whirred from among the fern beneath our feet,
And I, no coward in my better days,
Was almost terrified.
MARMADUKE That's excellent! --
So, you bethought you of the many ways
In which a man may come to his end, whose crimes
Have roused all Nature up against him--pshaw!
I'll plant myself before Lord Clifford's Castle,
A surly mastiff kennels at the gate,
And he shall howl and I will laugh, a medley
Most tunable.
OSWALD In faith, a pleasant scheme;
But take your sword along with you, for that
Might in such neighbourhood find seemly use. --
But first, how wash our hands of this old Man?
MARMADUKE Oh yes, that mole, that viper in the path;
Plague on my memory, him I had forgotten.
OSWALD You know we left him sitting--see him yonder.
MARMADUKE Ha! ha! --
OSWALD As 'twill be but a moment's work,
I will stroll on; you follow when 'tis done.
[Exeunt. ]
SCENE changes to another part of the Moor at a short distance--HERBERT
is discovered seated on a stone
HERBERT A sound of laughter, too! --'tis well--I feared,
The Stranger had some pitiable sorrow
Pressing upon his solitary heart.
Hush! --'tis the feeble and earth-loving wind
That creeps along the bells of the crisp heather.
Alas! 'tis cold--I shiver in the sunshine--
What can this mean?
There is a psalm that speaks
Of God's parental mercies--with Idonea
I used to sing it. --Listen! --what foot is there?
[Enter MARMADUKE]
MARMADUKE (aside--looking at HERBERT)
And I have loved this Man! and _she_ hath loved him!
And I loved her, and she loves the Lord Clifford!
And there it ends;--if this be not enough
To make mankind merry for evermore,
Then plain it is as day, that eyes were made
For a wise purpose--verily to weep with!
[Looking round. ]
A pretty prospect this, a masterpiece
Of Nature, finished with most curious skill!
(To HERBERT. ) Good Baron, have you ever practised tillage?
Pray tell me what this land is worth by the acre?
HERBERT How glad I am to hear your voice! I know not
Wherein I have offended you;--last night
I found in you the kindest of Protectors;
This morning, when I spoke of weariness,
You from my shoulder took my scrip and threw it
About your own; but for these two hours past
Once only have you spoken, when the lark
Whirred from among the fern beneath our feet,
And I, no coward in my better days,
Was almost terrified.
MARMADUKE That's excellent! --
So, you bethought you of the many ways
In which a man may come to his end, whose crimes
Have roused all Nature up against him--pshaw!
