[A whiff of smoke puffs from the scarecrow’s pipe.] Sic! Sic! Jacobus! [Another whiff.] Bravo! [The whiffs grow more rapid and the thing trembles.]
GOODY RICKBY Puff! puff, manny, for thy life!
DICKON Fiat, fœtus!—Huzza! Noch einmal! Go it!
[Clouds of smoke issue from the pipe, half fill the shop, and envelop the creature, who staggers.][A]
GOODY RICKBY See! See his eyes!
DICKON [Beckoning with one finger.] Veni, fili! Veni! Take ’ee first step, bambino!— Toddle!
[The Scarecrow makes a stiff lurch forward and falls sidewise against the anvil, propped half-reclining against which he leans rigid, emitting fainter puffs of smoke in gasps.]
GOODY RICKBY [Screams.] Have a care! He’s fallen.
DICKON Well done, Punkin Jack! Thou shalt be knighted for that! [Striking him on the shoulder with the hazel rod.] Rise, Lord Ravensbane! [The Scarecrow totters to his feet, and makes a forlorn rectilinear salutation.]
GOODY RICKBY Look! He bows.—He flaps his flails at thee. He smiles like a tik-doo-loo-roo!