“From the barge
A strange, invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs.”
“Jem, just run him alongside, and break his head with your oar.”
“I thinks as how I will, if he don’t mend his manners.”
“I saw her once
Hop forty paces through the public streets.”
“You lie, you liver-faced rascal. I never walked the streets in my life. I’m a lawful married woman. Jem, do you call yourself a man, and stand this here?”
“Well, now, Sal, but he’s a nice young man. Now an’t he?” observed one of the other women.
“Away,
Away, you trifler. Love! I know thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world
To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips;
We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns.”
“I’ve a notion you will, too, my hearty,” interrupted one of the colliers. “That ’ere long tongue of yours will bring you into disgrace. Bill, give her a jerk towards the wherry, and we’ll duck him.”
“My friend,” said the actor, addressing me:—
“Let not his unwholesome corpse come between the wind
And my nobility.