On any terms, marry Miss Bellanaine;

It goes against your conscience – good! Well, don’t.

You say you love a mortal. I would fain

Persuade your honour’s Highness to refrain

From peccadilloes. But, Sire, as I say,

What good would that do? And, to be more plain,

You would do me a mischief some odd day,

Cut off my ears and hands, or head too, by my fay!

LIII

‘Besides, manners forbid that I should pass any

470

Vile strictures on the conduct of a prince

Who should indulge his genius, if he has any,

Not, like a subject, foolish matters mince.

Now I think on’t, perhaps I could convince

Your Majesty there is no crime at all

In loving pretty little Bertha, since

She’s very delicate – not over tall –

A faery’s hand, and in the waist, why – very small.’

LIV

‘Ring the repeater, gentle Hum!’ ‘’Tis five,’

Said gentle Hum, ‘the nights draw in apace;

480

The little birds I hear are all alive;

I see the dawning touched upon your face;

Shall I put out the candles, please your Grace?’

‘Do put them out, and, without more ado,

Tell me how I may that sweet girl embrace –

How you can bring her to me.’ ‘That’s for you,

Great Emperor! to adventure, like a lover true.’

LV

‘I fetch her!’ – ‘Yes, an’t like your Majesty;

And as she would be frightened wide awake

To travel such a distance through the sky,

490

Use of some soft manoeuvre you must make,

For your convenience, and her dear nerves’ sake.

Nice way would be to bring her in a swoon,

Anon, I’ll tell what course were best to take;

You must away this morning.’ ‘Hum! so soon?’

‘Sire, you must be in Kent by twelve o’clock at noon.’

LVI

At this great Caesar started on his feet,

Lifted his wings, and stood attentive-wise.

‘Those wings to Canterbury you must beat,

If you hold Bertha as a worthy prize.

500

Look in the Almanack – Moore never lies –

April the twenty-fourth, this coming day,

Now breathing its new bloom upon the skies,

Will end in St Mark’s Eve – you must away,

For on that eve alone can you the maid convey.’

LVII

Then the magician solemnly ’gan frown,

So that his frost-white eyebrows, beetling low,

Shaded his deep-green eyes, and wrinkles brown

Plaited upon his furnace-scorchèd brow:

Forth from his hood that hung his neck below,

510

He lifted a bright casket of pure gold,

Touched a spring-lock, and there in wool, or snow

Charmed into ever-freezing, lay an old

And legend-leavèd book, mysterious to behold.

LVIII

‘Take this same book, – it will not bite you, Sire –

There, put it underneath your royal arm;

Though it’s a pretty weight it will not tire,

But rather on your journey keep you warm.

This is the magic, this the potent charm,

That shall drive Bertha to a fainting fit!

520

When the time comes, don’t feel the least alarm,

Uplift her from the ground, and swiftly flit

Back to your palace, where I wait for guerdon fit.’

LIX

‘What shall I do with that same book?’ ‘Why merely

Lay it on Bertha’s table, close beside

Her work-box, and ’twill help your purpose dearly.

I say no more.’ ‘Or good or ill betide,

Through the wide air to Kent this morn I glide!’

Exclaimed the Emperor. ‘When I return,

Ask what you will – I’ll give you my new bride!

530

And take some more wine, Hum – O Heavens! I burn

To be upon the wing! Now, now, that minx I spurn!’

LX

‘Leave her to me,’ rejoined the magian,

‘But how shall I account, illustrious fay!

For thine imperial absence? Pho! I can

Say you are very sick, and bar the way

To your so loving courtiers for one day;

If either of their two Archbishops’ graces

Should talk of extreme unction, I shall say

You do not like cold pig with Latin phrases,

540

Which never should be used but in alarming cases.’

LXI

‘Open the window, Hum; I’m ready now!’

‘Zooks!’ exclaimed Hum, as up the sash he drew,

‘Behold, your Majesty, upon the brow

Of yonder hill, what crowds of people!’ ‘Whew!

The monster’s always after something new,’

Returned his Highness, ‘they are piping hot

To see my pigsney Bellanaine. Hum! do

Tighten my belt a little – so, so – not

Too tight. The book! – my wand! – so, nothing is forgot.’

LXII

550

‘Wounds! how they shout!’ said Hum, ‘and there, – see, see!

The Ambassador’s returned from Pigmio!

The morning’s very fine – uncommonly!

See, past the skirts of yon white cloud they go,

Tinging it with soft crimsons! Now below

The sable-pointed heads of firs and pines

They dip, move on, and with them moves a glow

Along the forest side! Now amber lines

Reach the hill top, and now throughout the valley shines.’

LXIII

‘Why, Hum, you’re getting quite poetical!

560

Those nows you managed in a special style.’

‘If ever you have leisure, Sire, you shall

See scraps of mine will make it worth your while,

Tit-bits for Phoebus! – yes, you well may smile.

Hark! Hark! the bells!’ ‘A little further yet,

Good Hum, and let me view this mighty coil.’

Then the great Emperor full graceful set

His elbow for a prop, and snuffed his mignonette.

LXIV

The morn is full of holiday: loud bells

With rival clamours ring from every spire;

570

Cunningly-stationed music dies and swells

In echoing places; when the winds respire,

Light flags stream out like gauzy tongues of fire;

A metropolitan murmur, lifeful, warm,

Comes from the northern suburbs; rich attire

Freckles with red and gold the moving swarm;

While here and there clear trumpets blow a keen alarm.

LXV

And now the faery escort was seen clear,

Like the old pageant of Aurora’s train,

Above a pearl-built minster, hovering near:

580

First wily Crafticant, the chamberlain,

Balanced upon his grey-grown pinions twain,

His slender wand officially revealed;

Then black gnomes scattering sixpences like rain;

Then pages three and three; and next, slave-held,

The Imaian ’scutcheon bright – one mouse in argent field.

LXVI

Gentlemen pensioners next; and after them,

A troop of wingèd Janizaries flew;

Then slaves, as presents bearing many a gem;

Then twelve physicians fluttering two and two;

590

And next a chaplain in a cassock new;

Then Lords in waiting; then (what head not reels

For pleasure?) the fair Princess in full view,

Borne upon wings – and very pleased she feels

To have such splendour dance attendance at her heels.

LXVII

For there was more magnificence behind.

She waved her handkerchief. ‘Ah, very grand!’

Cried Elfinan, and closed the window-blind.

‘And, Hum, we must not shilly-shally stand –

Adieu! adieu! I’m off for Angle-land!

600

I say, old Hocus, have you such a thing

About you – feel your pockets, I command –

I want, this instant, an invisible ring –

Thank you, old mummy! Now securely I take wing.’

LXVIII

Then Elfinan swift vaulted from the floor,

And lighted graceful on the window-sill;

Under one arm the magic book he bore,

The other he could wave about at will;

Pale was his face, he still looked very ill.

He bowed at Bellanaine, and said, ‘Poor Bell!

610

Farewell! farewell! and if for ever! still

For ever fare thee well!’ – and then he fell

A-laughing! – snapped his fingers! – shame it is to tell!

LXIX

‘By’r Lady! he is gone!’ cries Hum, ‘and I

(I own it) have made too free with his wine;

Old Crafticant will smoke me by the bye!

This room is full of jewels as a mine –

Dear valuable creatures, how ye shine!

Sometime today I must contrive a minute,

If Mercury propitiously incline,

620

To examine his scrutoire, and see what’s in it,

For of superfluous diamonds I as well may thin it.

LXX

‘The Emperor’s horrid bad – yes, that’s my cue!’

Some histories say that this was Hum’s last speech;

That, being fuddled, he went reeling through

The corridor, and scarce upright could reach

The stair-head; that being glutted as a leech,

And used, as we ourselves have just now said,

To manage stairs reversely, like a peach

Too ripe, he fell, being puzzled in his head

630

With liquor and the staircase: verdict – found stone dead.

LXXI

This as a falsehood Crafticanto treats;

And as his style is of strange elegance,

Gentle and tender, full of soft conceits

(Much like our Boswell’s) we will take a glance

At his sweet prose, and, if we can, make dance

His woven periods into careless rhyme.

O, little faery Pegasus! rear – prance –

Trot round the quarto – ordinary time!

March, little Pegasus, with pawing hoof sublime!

LXXII

640

Well, let us see – tenth book and chapter nine –

Thus Crafticant pursues his diary:

‘’Twas twelve o’clock at night, the weather fine,

Latitude thirty-six; our scouts descry

A flight of starlings making rapidly

Toward Tibet. Mem. – birds fly in the night;

From twelve to half-past – wings not fit to fly

For a thick fog – the Princess sulky quite

Called for an extra shawl, and gave her nurse a bite.

LXXIII

‘Five minutes before one – brought down a moth

650

With my new double-barrel – stewed the thighs

And made a very tolerable broth –

Princess turned dainty; to our great surprise,

Altered her mind, and thought it very nice.

Seeing her pleasant, tried her with a pun,

She frowned. A monstrous owl across us flies

About this time – a sad old figure of fun;

Bad omen – this new match can’t be a happy one.

LXXIV

‘From two to half-past, dusky way we made,

Above the plains of Gobi – desert, bleak;

660

Beheld afar off, in the hooded shade

Of darkness, a great mountain (strange to speak)

Spitting, from forth its sulphur-baken peak,

A fan-shaped burst of blood-red, arrowy fire,

Turbaned with smoke, which still away did reek,

Solid and black from that eternal pyre,

Upon the laden winds that scantly could respire.

LXXV

‘Just upon three o’clock a falling star

Created an alarm among our troop,

Killed a man-cook, a page, and broke a jar,

670

A tureen, and three dishes, at one swoop,

Then passing by the Princess, singed her hoop.

Could not conceive what Coralline was at –

She clapped her hands three times and cried out “Whoop!”

Some strange Imaian custom. A large bat

Came sudden ’fore my face, and brushed against my hat.

LXXVI

‘Five minutes thirteen seconds after three,

Far in the west a mighty fire broke out.

Conjectured, on the instant, it might be

The city of Balk – ’twas Balk beyond all doubt.

680

A griffin, wheeling here and there about,

Kept reconnoitring us – doubled our guard –

Lighted our torches, and kept up a shout,

Till he sheered off – the Princess very scared –

And many on their marrowbones for death prepared.

LXXVII

‘At half-past three arose the cheerful moon –

Bivouacked for four minutes on a cloud –

Where from the earth we heard a lively tune

Of tambourines and pipes, serene and loud,

While on a flowery lawn a brilliant crowd

690

Cinque-parted danced, some half-asleep reposed

Beneath the green-faned cedars, some did shroud

In silken tents, and ’mid light fragrance dozed,

Or on the open turf their soothèd eyelids closed.

LXXVIII

‘Dropped my gold watch, and killed a kettledrum –

It went for apoplexy – foolish folks! –

Left it to pay the piper – a good sum

(I’ve got a conscience, maugre people’s jokes).

To scrape a little favour ’gan to coax

Her Highness’ pug-dog – got a sharp rebuff.

700

She wished a game at whist – made three revokes –

Turned from myself, her partner, in a huff.

His Majesty will know her temper time enough.

LXXIX

‘She cried for chess – I played a game with her.

Castled her king with such a vixen look,

It bodes ill to his Majesty (refer

To the second chapter of my fortieth book,

And see what hoity-toity airs she took).

At half-past four the morn essayed to beam –

Saluted, as we passed, an early rook –

710

The Princess fell asleep, and, in her dream,

Talked of one Master Hubert, deep in her esteem.

LXXX

‘About this time, making delightful way,

Shed a quill-feather from my larboard wing –

Wished, trusted, hoped ’twas no sign of decay –

Thank heaven, I’m hearty yet! – ’twas no such thing.

At five the golden light began to spring,

With fiery shudder through the bloomèd east.

At six we heard Panthea’s churches ring –

The city all her unhived swarms had cast,

720

To watch our grand approach, and hail us as we passed.

LXXXI

‘As flowers turn their faces to the sun,

So on our flight with hungry eyes they gaze,

And, as we shaped our course, this, that way run,

With mad-cap pleasure, or hand-clasped amaze.

Sweet in the air a mild-toned music plays,

And progresses through its own labyrinth.

Buds gathered from the green spring’s middle-days,

They scattered – daisy, primrose, hyacinth –

Or round white columns wreathed from capital to plinth.

LXXXII

730

‘Onward we floated o’er the panting streets,

That seemed throughout with upheld faces paved.

Look where we will, our bird’s-eye vision meets

Legions of holiday; bright standards waved,

And fluttering ensigns emulously craved

Our minute’s glance; a busy thunderous roar,

From square to square, among the buildings raved,

As when the sea, at flow, gluts up once more

The craggy hollowness of a wild reefèd shore.

LXXXIII

‘And “Bellanaine for ever!” shouted they,

740

While that fair Princess, from her wingèd chair,

Bowed low with high demeanour, and, to pay

Their new-blown loyalty with guerdon fair,

Still emptied, at meet distance, here and there,

A plenty horn of jewels. And here I

(Who wish to give the devil her due) declare

Against that ugly piece of calumny,

Which calls them Highland pebble-stones not worth a fly.

LXXXIV

‘Still “Bellanaine!” they shouted, while we glide

‘Slant to a light Ionic portico,

750

The city’s delicacy, and the pride

Of our Imperial Basilic. A row

Of lords and ladies, on each hand, make show

Submissive of knee-bent obeisance,

All down the steps; and, as we entered, lo!

The strangest sight – the most unlooked-for chance –

All things turned topsy-turvy in a devil’s dance.

LXXXV

‘’Stead of his anxious Majesty and court

At the open doors, with wide saluting eyes,

Congées and scapegraces of every sort,

760

And all the smooth routine of gallantries,

Was seen, to our immoderate surprise,

A motley crowd thick gathered in the hall,

Lords, scullions, deputy-scullions, with wild cries

Stunning the vestibule from wall to wall,

Where the Chief Justice on his knees and hands doth crawl.

LXXXVI

‘Counts of the palace, and the state purveyor

Of moth’s-down, to make soft the royal beds,

The Common Council and my fool Lord Mayor

Marching a-row, each other slipshod treads;

770

Powdered bag-wigs and ruffy-tuffy heads

Of cinder wenches meet and soil each other;

Toe crushed with heel ill-natured fighting breeds,

Frill-rumpling elbows brew up many a bother,

And fists in the short ribs keep up the yell and pother.

LXXXVII

‘A Poet, mounted on the Court-Clown’s back,

Rode to the Princess swift with spurring heels,

And close into her face, with rhyming clack,

Began a Prothalamion – she reels,

She falls, she faints! while laughter peals

780

Over her woman’s weakness. “Where!” cried I,

“Where is his Majesty?” No person feels

Inclined to answer; wherefore instantly

I plunged into the crowd to find him or to die.

LXXXVIII

‘Jostling my way I gained the stairs, and ran

To the first landing, where, incredible!

I met, far gone in liquor, that old man,

That vile impostor Hum – ’

So far so well,

For we have proved the Mago never fell

Down stairs on Crafticanto’s evidence;

790

And therefore duly shall proceed to tell,

Plain in our own original mood and tense,

The sequel of this day, though labour ’tis immense!

LXXXIX

Now Hum, new fledged with high authority,

Came forth to quell the hubbub in the hall….

I

Physician Nature! let my spirit blood!

O ease my heart of verse and let me rest;

Throw me upon thy tripod till the flood

Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full breast.

A theme! a theme! Great Nature! give a theme;

Let me begin my dream.

I come – I see thee, as thou standest there,

Beckon me out into the wintry air.

II

Ah! dearest love, sweet home of all my fears,

10

And hopes, and joys, and panting miseries,

Tonight, if I may guess, thy beauty wears

A smile of such delight,

As brilliant and as bright,

As when with ravished, aching, vassal eyes,

Lost in a soft amaze,

I gaze, I gaze!

III

Who now, with greedy looks, eats up my feast?

What stare outfaces now my silver moon!

Ah! keep that hand unravished at the least;

20

Let, let, the amorous burn –

But, prithee, do not turn

The current of your heart from me so soon.

O save, in charity,

The quickest pulse for me!

IV

Save it for me, sweet love! though music breathe

Voluptuous visions into the warm air,

Though swimming through the dance’s dangerous wreath,

Be like an April day,

Smiling and cold and gay,

30

A temperate lily, temperate as fair;

Then, Heaven! there will be

A warmer June for me.

V

Why, this – you’ll say, my Fanny! – is not true:

Put your soft hand upon your snowy side,

Where the heart beats; confess – ’tis nothing new –

Must not a woman be

A feather on the sea,

Swayed to and fro by every wind and tide?

Of as uncertain speed

40

As blow-ball from the mead?

VI

I know it – and to know it is despair

To one who loves you as I love, sweet Fanny!

Whose heart goes fluttering for you everywhere,

Nor, when away you roam,

Dare keep its wretched home.

Love, Love alone, has pains severe and many:

Then, loveliest! keep me free

From torturing jealousy.

VII

Ah! if you prize my subdued soul above

50

The poor, the fading, brief, pride of an hour,

Let none profane my Holy See of Love,

Or with a rude hand break

The sacramental cake;

Let none else touch the just new-budded flower;

If not – may my eyes close,

Love! on their last repose.

In after-time, a sage of mickle lore

Y-cleped Typographus, the Giant took,

And did refit his limbs as heretofore,

And made him read in many a learned book,

And into many a lively legend look;

Thereby in goodly themes so training him,

That all his brutishness he quite forsook,

When, meeting Artegall and Talus grim,

The one he struck stone-blind, the other’s eyes wox dim.

I

I am as brisk

As a bottle of whisk –

Ey and as nimble

As a milliner’s thimble.

II

O grant that like to Peter I

May like to Peter B,

And tell me, lovely Jesus, Y

This Peter went to C.

O grant that like to Peter I

May like to Peter B,

And tell me, lovely Jesus, Y

Old Jonah went to C.

III

They weren fully glad of their gude hap

And tasten all the pleasaunces of joy.

See, the ship in the bay is riding,

Dearest Ellen, I go from thee –

Boldly go, in thy love confiding,

Over the deep and trackless sea:

When thy dear form no longer is near me,

This soothing thought shall at midnight cheer me:

‘My love is breathing a prayer for me’.

When the thunder of war is roaring,

When the bullets around me fly,

10

When the rage of the tempest pouring,

Blends the billowy sea and sky,

Yet shall my heart, to fear a stranger,

Cherish its fondest hopes for thee –

This dear reflection disarming danger,

‘My love is breathing a prayer for me’.

At morn, at noon, at eve, and middle night,

He passes forth into the charmèd air,

With talisman to call up spirits rare

From plant, cave, rock, and fountain. To his sight

The husk of natural objects opens quite

To the core, and every secret essence there

Reveals the elements of good and fair,

Making him see, where Learning hath no light.

Sometimes above the gross and palpable things

10

Of this diurnal sphere, his spirit flies

On awful wing; and with its destined skies

Holds premature and mystic communings;

Till such unearthly intercourses shed

A visible halo round his mortal head.

GRIPUS And gold and silver are but filthy dross.

Then seek not gold and silver which are dross,

But rather lay thy treasure up in heaven! –

SLIM Hem!

GRIPUS And thou has meat and drink and lodging too

And clothing too, what more can man require?

And thou art single –

But I must lay up money for my children,

My children’s children and my great-grandchildren;

For, Slim! thy master will be shortly married –

SLIM Married!

10

GRIPUS Yea! married. Wherefore dost thou stare,

As though my words had spoke of aught impossible?

SLIM My lord, I stare not but my ears played false.

Methought you had said married.

GRIPUS Married, fool!

Is’t aught unlikely? I’m not very old,

And my intended has a noble fortune.

SLIM My lord ’tis likely.

GRIPUS Haste, then, to the butchers,

And ere thou go, tell Bridget she is wanted –

[Exit]

SLIM I go – Gods! what a subject for an ode.

With Hymen, Cupids, Venus, Loves and Graces!

20

GRIPUS [solus] This matrimony is no light affair;

’Tis downright venture and mere speculation.

Less risk there is in what the merchant trusts

To winds and waves and the uncertain elements –

For he can have assurance for his goods

And put himself beyond the reach of losses –

But who can e’er ensure to me a wife

Industrious and managing and frugal,

Who will not spend far more than she has brought,

But be almost a saving to her husband? –

30

But none can tell – the broker cannot tell

He is not cheated in the wares he buys,

And to judge well of women or the seas

Would oft surpass the wisest merchant’s prudence;

For both are deep alike – capricious too –

And the worst things that money can be sunk in.

But Bridget comes –

BRIDGET Your pleasure, Sir, with me?

GRIPUS Bridget, I wish to have a little converse

Upon a matter that concerns us both

Of like importance both to thee and me.

40

BRIDGET Of like importance and concerning both!

What can your Honour have to say to me?

[aside] O lord! I would give all that I am worth

To know what ’tis –

GRIPUS Then prithee rein thy tongue

That ever battles with thine own impatience.

But to the point. Thou knowst, for twenty years

Together we have lived as man and wife,

But never hath the sanction of the Church

Stamped its legality upon our union.

BRIDGET Well, what of that?

GRIPUS Why, when in wiser years

50

Men look upon the follies of their youth,

They oft repent, and wish to make amends,

And seek for happier in more virtuous days.

In such a case, and such is mine I own,

’Tis marriage offers us the readiest way

To make atonement for our former deeds.

And thus have I determined in my heart

To make amends – in other words to marry.

BRIDGET O Lord! how overjoyed I am to hear it!

I vow that I have often thought myself,

60

What wickedness it was to live as we did!

But do you joke?

GRIPUS Not so upon my oath.

I am resolved to marry and beget

A little heir to leave my little wealth to.

I am not old, my hair is hardly grey,

My health is good – what hast thou to object?

BRIDGET O dear! how close your honour puts the question!

I’ve said as much already as was fit

And incompatible with female modesty –

But would your honour please to name a day?

70

GRIPUS To name a day! But hark! I hear a knock –

’Tis perhaps young Prodigal, I did expect him.

BRIDGET But Sir – a day?

GRIPUS Zounds! dost thou hear the bell?

Wilt thou not run? He was to bring me money!

[Exit BRIDGET and returns]

BRIDGET ’Tis he, I’ve shown him to the little study.

GRIPUS Then stay thee here, and when I’ve settled him

I will return and hold more converse with thee.

[Exit]

BRIDGET [sola] My head runs round! O, what a happy change!

Now I shall be another woman quite.

Dame Bridget, then, adieu! and don’t forget

80

Your Lady Gripus now that is to be;

Great Lady Gripus – O Lord! –

The Lady of the old and rich Sir Gripus!

O how will people whisper, as I pass,

‘There goes my Lady’ – ‘What a handsome gownd,

All scarlet silk embroidered with gold!’

Or green and gold will perhaps become me better –

How vastly fine, how handsome I shall be

In green and gold! Besides, a lady too!

I’ll have a footman too, to walk behind me.

90

Slim is too slender to set off a livery,

I must have one more lustier than him,

A proper man to walk behind his lady.

O how genteel! methinks I see myself

In green and gold and carrying my fan –

Or perhaps I’d have a redicule about me!

The lusty footman all so spruce behind me

Walking on tip-toes in a bran new livery;

And he shall have a favour in his hat

As sure as ever I am Lady Gripus!

[Enter SLIM]

100

SLIM Why how now, Bridget, you’re turned actress sure!

BRIDGET An actor, fellow, no! To something better,

To something grander and more ladylike,

Know I am turned!

SLIM A lunatic, ’tis plain.

But, lovee, leave this jesting for a while,

And hear thy servant, who thus pleads for favour.

BRIDGET For favour Sirrah! But I must be kind,

I will forget your insolence this once,

And condescend to keep you in my service.

But no! I want a much more lustier man,

110

You are too slender to become my livery

I must excard you, you must suit yourself!

SLIM Why, how now, Bridget –

BRIDGET You forget me, sure!

Ah! no,

I love you so

No language can impart!

Alas! ’tis love that makes me thin,

I have a fiery flame within,

120

That burns and shrivels up my skin –

’Tis Cupid’s little dart,

And by this kiss I swear –

[Attempts to kiss her]

SLIM Forget thee, Bridget? Never from my heart

Shall thy dear image part.

BRIDGET Ruffin, begone, or I will tell my lord.

Do you not care for difference of rank,

Nor make distinction between dirt and dignity?

SLIM Why, Bridget, once you did not treat me thus.

BRIDGET No, times are altered, Fortunes wheel is turned,

You still are Slim, but, though I once was Bridget,

I’m Lady Gripus now that is to be.

130

Did not his Honour tell you he should marry?

SLIM Yea, to a lady of an ample fortune.

BRIDGET Why, that, you fool, he said in allegolly.

A virtuous woman, is she not a crown,

A crown of gold and glory to her husband?

SLIM Heavens is it possible? I pray forgive me

That I could doubt a moment of that fortune

Which is but due to your assembled merits.

BRIDGET Well, Slim, I do not wish to harbour malice,

But while you show a proper due respect

140

You may be certain of my condescension.

But hark! I hear his lordship on the stairs,

And we must have some privacy together. [Exit SLIM]

O lord, how overjoyed I am your honour –

GRIPUS Bridget, I thank thee for thy friendly zeal,

That seems to glory in thy master’s bliss;

And much it grieves me that I can’t requite it

Except by mere reciprocal good-wishes.

For as a change in my domestic government

Will make thy place in future but a sinecure,

150

It grieves me much that I must warn you thus

To seek and get a situation elsewhere.

[Faints]

BRIDGET O dear! O lord! O what a shock! O lord!

GRIPUS Ho! Slim – the devil’s in the fool, to faint.

Halloo! – What shall I do? Halloo! Halloo!

Ho! Slim, I say – run, Sirrah, for the brandy!

SLIM The brandy, Sir? there is none in the house!

[Lets BRIDGET fall and collars SLIM]

GRIPUS No brandy! None! What, none at all, thou knave?

What, none at all? Then rascal thou hast drunk it.

Why Bridget, Bridget – what, no brandy, knave?

160

Zounds! what a fit! Where is my brandy, wretch!

Thou toping villain, say, or I will slay thee!

SLIM O lord! Forgive me, Bridget had the wind,

And drank the brandy up to warm her stomach.

[BRIDGET jumps up]

GRIPUS A tipsy Bacchanal! Then let her lie!

I’ll not be drunken out of house and home.

Zounds! brandy for the wind – a cure indeed!

A little water had done just as well.

This is the way, then, when I want a drop;

I always find my cellar is stark naked.

170

But both shall go, yes, I discard ye. Thieves!

Begone, ye thieves!

BRIDGET No, not without my wages!

I’ll have a month’s full wages or my warning!

I’ll not be left at nonplush for a place.

GRIPUS A month’s full warning! What, another month,

To sack, to ransack, and to strip the house,

And then depart in triumph with your booty!

Begone, I say!

BRIDGET No, not without my wages!

And I’ll have damages, you cruel man!

I will convict you of a breach of marriage!

180

GRIPUS Begone, I say! Deceitful thing! begone –

Who ever dared to promise such a match

But thy own fancy, and thy lying tongue?

What, marry one as poor as a church mouse,

And equally devoid of rank and beauty!

Reason would sleep and prudence would be blind,

And Gripus then would be no longer Gripus,

But only fitting for more sober men

To lodge in Bedlam and to call a lunatic.