The
chattering
birds, my lass, and droning flies:
They're proper Whigs, are birds and flies,--or else
The Whigs are proper crows and carrion-bugs.
Lascelles Abercrombie - Emblems of Love
Do any look as if they died afeared?
_Man_.
Go and learn that yourselves. And when you mark
How grimly addled all the daring is
Now in those brains, do as your hearts shall bid you,
And that is weep, I hope.
_Mary_.
O let's go back.
_Jean_.
We have no friends spiked on the Scottish Gate.
_Man_.
No? Well, there's quite a quire of voices there,
Blessing the King's just wisdom for his stern
Strong policy with the rebels.
_Mary_.
Who are those?--
I think it's fiendish to have killed so many.
_Man_.
The
chattering
birds, my lass, and droning flies:
They're proper Whigs, are birds and flies,--or else
The Whigs are proper crows and carrion-bugs.
[_He goes on past them_.
_Katrina_.
A Jacobite?
_Jean_.
That's it, I warrant you.
One of the stay-at-homes.
_Mary_.
Now promise me,
We'll only take a glimpse, girls, a short glimpse.
_Jean (laughing)_.
Yes, just to see how horrible they are.
