Host. Mercy, noble sir!
Lamp. We crave your mercy!
Balth. On your knees? 'tis well!
Pray! for your time is short.
Host. Nay, do not kill us.
Balth. You have been tried, condemned, and only wait
For execution. Which shall I begin with?
Lamp. The lady, by all means, sir.
Balth. Come, prepare. (To the hostess.)
Host. Have pity by the weakness of my sex!
Balth. Tell me, thou quaking mountain of gross flesh,
Tell me, and in a breath, how many poisons—
If you attempt it—(To LAMPEDO, who is making off)
you have cooked up for me?
Host. None, as I hope for mercy!
Balth. Is not thy wine a poison?
Host. No indeed, sir;
'T is not, I own, of the first quality;
But—
Balth. What?
Host. I always give short measure, sir,
And ease my conscience that way.
Balth. Ease your conscience!
I'll ease your conscience for you.
Host. Mercy, sir!
Balth. Rise, if thou canst, and hear me.
Host. Your commands, sir?
Balth. If, in five minutes, all things are prepared
For my departure, you may yet survive.
Host. It shall be done in less.
Balth. Away, thou lumpfish. (Exit hostess.)
Lamp. So! now comes my turn! 't is all over with me!
There's dagger, rope, and ratsbane in his looks!
Baith. And now, thou sketch and outline of a man!
Thou thing that hast no shadow in the sun!
Thou eel in a consumption, eldest born
Of Death and Famine! thou anatomy
Of a starved pilchard!
Lamp. I do confess my leanness. I am spare,
And, therefore, spare me.
Balth. Why wouldst thou have made me
A thoroughfare, for thy whole shop to pass through?
Lamp. Man, you know, must live.
Balth. Yes: he must die, too.
Lamp. For my patients' sake!
Balth. I'll send you to the major part of them—
The window, sir, is open;-come, prepare.
Lamp. Pray consider!
I may hurt some one in the street.
[Illustration: Lampedo and Hostess kneeling, with hands folded, pleading with Balthazar, who is standing over them, holding a sword. Several small glass bottles are on the table by the wall and scattered on the floor.]
Balth. Why, then,
I'll rattle thee to pieces in a dicebox,
Or grind thee in a coffee mill to powder,
For thou must sup with Pluto:—so, make ready!
Whilst I, with this good smallsword for a lancet,
Let thy starved spirit out (for blood thou hast none),
And nail thee to the wall, where thou shalt look
Like a dried beetle with a pin stuck through him.
Lamp. Consider my poor wife.
Balth. Thy wife!
Lamp. My wife, sir.
Balth. Hast thou dared think of matrimony, too?
Thou shadow of a man, and base as lean!
Lamp. O spare me for her sake!
I have a wife, and three angelic babes,
Who, by those looks, are well nigh fatherless.
Balth. Well, well! your wife and children shall plead for you.
Come, come; the pills! where are the pills? Produce them.
Lamp. Here is the box.
Balth. Were it Pandora's, and each single pill
Had ten diseases in it, you should take them.
Lamp. What, all?
Balth. Ay, all; and quickly, too. Come, sir, begin—
(LAMPEDO takes one.) That's well!—Another.
Lamp. One's a dose.
Balth. Proceed, sir.
Lamp. What will become of me?
Let me go home, and set my shop to rights,
And, like immortal Caesar, die with decency.
Balth. Away! and thank thy lucky star I have not
Brayed thee in thine own mortar, or exposed thee
For a large specimen of the lizard genus.
Lamp. Would I were one!—for they can feed on air.
Balth. Home, sir! and be more honest.
Lump. If I am not,
I'll be more wise, at least.
NOTEs.—Pluto, in ancient mythology, the god of the lower world.
Pandora is described in the Greek legends as the first created woman. She was sent by Jupiter to Epimetheus as a punishment, because the latter's brother, Prometheus, had stolen fire from heaven. When she arrived among men, she opened a box in which were all the evils of mankind, and everything escaped except Hope.
LXIII. RIP VAN WINKLE. (242)
The appearance of Rip, with his long, grizzled beard, his rusty fowling piece, his uncouth dress, and an army of women and children at his heels, soon attracted the attention of the tavern politicians. They crowded around him, eying him from head to foot with great curiosity. The orator bustled up to him, and, drawing him partly aside, inquired on which side he voted. Rip stared in vacant stupidity. Another short but busy little fellow pulled him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, inquired in his ear "whether he was Federal or Democrat."
Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend the question; when a knowing, self-important old gentleman, in a sharp cocked hat, made his way through the crowd, putting them to the right and left with his elbows as he passed, and planting himself before Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the other resting on his cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat, penetrating, as it were, into his very soul, demanded, in an austere tone, what brought him to the election with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels, and whether he meant to breed a riot in the village.
"Alas! gentlemen," cried Rip, somewhat dismayed, "I am a poor, quiet man, a native of the place, and a loyal subject of the king, God bless him!" Here a general shout burst from the bystanders.—"A tory! a tory! a spy! a refugee! hustle him! away with him!" It was with great difficulty that the self-important man in the cocked hat restored order; and, having a tenfold austerity of brow, demanded again of the unknown culprit, what he came there for, and whom he was seeking. The poor man humbly assured him that he meant no harm, but merely came there in search of some of his neighbors, who used to keep about the tavern. "Well, who are they? name them."
Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's Nicholas Vedder?" There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in a thin, piping voice, "Nicholas Vedder! why he is dead and gone these eighteen years! There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone too." "Where's Brom Dutcher?" "Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war. Some say he was killed at the storming of Stony Point; others say he was drowned in a squall at the foot of Anthony's Nose. I don't know; he never came back again."