As many have, and so, and so [prepares to hang himself, tries the sensation, but disapproves of the result] won't I!
No, I'll go mad! 'gainst all I'll vent my rage,
And with this wicked wanton world a woeful war I'll wage!
[Hangs his boots to the arm of a tree, and taking a scrap of paper, with a pencil writes the following couplet, which he attaches to them, repeating the words:—
"Who dares this pair of boots displace,
Must meet Bombastes face to face."
Thus do I challenge all the human race.
[Draws his sword, and retires up the stage, and off.
Enter the King.
King. Scorning my proffer'd hand, he frowning fled,