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Calmstorm, the reformer

A Dramatic Comment

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SCENE VIII.

—A street. First Beggar. Second Beggar, &c.
First Beg.
What, that man
That wants to shut the poor-house—

Second Beg.
And who says
We shall not run the streets; 'gad we'll go
If it's half a mile! I'll clatter my basket
Before his door, worse than a dozen coopers.

Third Beg.
Yes, lads, he's the man who says he wants to serve us—
He serve us!—a starveling from a back street
Himself. If he had been a grave, round,
Red-cheeked citizen who offered alms
It would be well! But he, a sick white man,
Whose door's unsilvered with his name,

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Who rides not nor walks in pomp—oh, folly,
He's no better than we!

Sec. Beg.
We'll clatter him deaf,
With every basket in the town.

Enter, another Beggar.
Fourth Beg.
News, Tom, news—Lifeless is dead!
I heard as I came out at break of day,
A poor dead man was floating in the river:
And true enough when I got there, who should
I see, with his old gaunt look sharpened a little,
In his old dress, and dull, slow, fishy eyes—
But Lifeless.

Third Beg.
Thrown himself in?

Fourth Beg.
Partly he might—
A banker's coach backed for the rich man's ease—
From restiveness of his o'erpampered horses,
Pushed him from the wharf's end, as though
By merest chance—I guess he meant they should,
And this way saved the hanging of himself.

Sec. Beg.
No doubt now if the truth was known my Jack,
This Calmstorm had a hand in it. Let's off, boys.

[Exeunt, hastily.