The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in six volumes |
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The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | ||
Scene II.
—A street. On one side, Nicholas Upsall's house; on the other, Walter Merry's, with a flock of pigeons on the roof. Upsall seated in the porch of his house.UPSALL.
O day of rest! How beautiful, how fair,
How welcome to the weary and the old!
Day of the Lord! and truce to earthly cares!
Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!
Ah, why will man by his austerities
Shut out the blessed sunshine and the light,
And make of thee a dungeon of despair!
WALTER MERRY
(entering and looking round him).
All silent as a graveyard! No one stirring;
No footfall in the street, no sound of voices!
By righteous punishment and perseverance,
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At last I've brought this contumacious town
To strict observance of the Sabbath day.
Those wanton gospellers, the pigeons yonder,
Are now the only Sabbath-breakers left.
I cannot put them down. As if to taunt me,
They gather every Sabbath afternoon
In noisy congregation on my roof,
Billing and cooing. Whir! take that, ye Quakers.
Throws a stone at the pigeons. Sees Upsall.
Ah! Master Nicholas!
UPSALL.
Good afternoon,
Dear neighbor Walter.
MERRY.
Master Nicholas,
You have to-day withdrawn yourself from meeting.
UPSALL.
Yea, I have chosen rather to worship God
Sitting in silence here at my own door.
MERRY.
Worship the Devil! You this day have broken
Three of our strictest laws. First, by abstaining
From public worship. Secondly, by walking
Profanely on the Sabbath.
UPSALL.
Not one step.
I have been sitting still here, seeing the pigeons
Feed in the street and fly about the roofs.
MERRY.
You have been in the street with other intent
Than going to and from the Meeting-house.
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I am amazed!
UPSALL.
Men sometimes, it is said,
Entertain angels unawares.
MERRY.
Nice angels!
Angels in broad-brimmed hats and russet cloaks,
The color of the Devil's nutting-bag! They came
Into the Meeting-house this afternoon
More in the shape of devils than of angels.
The women screamed and fainted; and the boys
Made such an uproar in the gallery
I could not keep them quiet.
UPSALL.
Neighbor Walter,
Your persecution is of no avail.
MERRY.
'T is prosecution, as the Governor says,
Not persecution.
UPSALL.
Well, your prosecution;
Your hangings do no good.
MERRY.
The reason is,
We do not hang enough. But, mark my words,
We'll scour them; yea, I warrant ye, we'll scour them!
And now go in and entertain your angels,
And don't be seen here in the street again
Till after sundown!—There they are again!
Exit Upsall. Merry throws another stone at the pigeons, and then goes into his house.
The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | ||