To see) that I should go to gaol.
Yet is the time but two days hence
When Famcram comes; on some pretence
He'll surely send us both to pris'n,
And make our valuables hisn.
Dear Godmother! Pray leave thy wave
Thy loving god-daughter to save,
Or tell me how, by thy kind aid,
The tyrant's power I may evade!"
Whilst Ophelia was speaking, the old woman kept tapping her umbrella upon the ground in visible wrath, and a frown appearing upon her face, which was otherwise not particularly beautiful, did not greatly improve her personal appearance. As soon as the maiden ceased, she lost not a moment in making her reply:—