John. What is it now? James. A quarter to. John. Whose house is that I see? No, not the County Member's with the vane: Up higher with the yewtree by it, and half A score of gables. James. That? Sir Edward Head's: But he's abroad: the place is to be sold. John. Oh, his. He was not broken. Vex'd with a morbid devil in his blood No, sir, he, That veil'd the world with jaundice, hid his face From all men, and commercing with himself, He lost the sense that handles daily life— That keeps us all in order more or less And sick of home went overseas for change. John. And whither? James. Nay, who knows? he's here and there. But let him go; his devil goes with him, As well as with his tenant, Jocky Dawes. James. You saw the man-on Monday, was it?— There by the humpback'd willow; half stands up And bristles; half has fall'n and made a bridge; And there he caught the younker tickling troutCaught in flagrante-what's the Latin word ?— Delicto: but his house, for so they say, Was haunted with a jolly ghost, that shook Sets out, and meets a friend who hails him, "What! ghost (For they had pack'd the thing among the beds,) "On well," says he, "you flitting with us tooJack, turn the horses' heads and home again." John. He left his wife behind; for so I heard. James. He left her, yes. I met my lady once: A woman like a butt, and harsh as crabs. John. Oh yet but I remember, ten years back-'Tis now at least ten years-and then she wasYou could not light upon a sweeter thing: A body slight and round, and like a pear In growing, modest eyes, a hand, a foot Lessening in perfect cadence, and a skin As clean and white as privet when it flowers. James. Ay, ay, the blossom fades, and they that loved At first like dove and dove were cat and dog. She was the daughter of a cottager, Out of her sphere. What betwixt shame and price, New things and old, himself and her, she sour'd To what she is: a nature never kind! Like men, like manners: like breeds like, they say Kind nature is the best: those manners next That fit us like a nature second-hand; Which are indeed the manners of the great. John. But I had heard it was this bill that past, And fear of change at home, that drove him hence. James. That was the last drop in the cup of gall. I once was near him, when his bailiff brought A Chartist pike. You should have seen him wince Should break his sleep by night, and his nice eyes f those that want, and those that have: and still The same old sore breaks out from age to age Destructive, when I had not what I would. Lay great with pig, wallowing in sun and mud. As one by one we took them-but for this- |