Laggards! laggards!

(Bishop Hardbrooke and a fellow-townsman, each with a man who is evidently a stranger, come slowly forward)

Bishop Hardbrooke.

Isn't there aspiration in all this,

(Indicating the house)

A reaching out toward God, and a love, too,
Of all that God hath made?

Fellow-Townsman.

The river there.

Ralph Ardsley.

The walls will be here when the wine is gone.