NORTH.
Words known to all the world, yet coming on the ear of each individual listener with force unweaken'd by familiarity, power increased by repetition, as it will be over all Scottish breasts in secula seculorum.
TALBOYS.
By Heavens! he smiles! There is a sarcastic smile on that incomprehensible face of yours, sir—of which no man in this Tent, I am sure, may divine the reason.
NORTH.
I was not aware of it. Now, my dear Talboys, let us here endeavour to ascertain Shakspeare's Time. Here we have long time with a vengeance—and here we have short time; for this is the Picture of the State of Poor Scotland before the Murder of Macduff's Wife and Children.
BULLER.
What?
SEWARD.
Eh?