University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A deep Dell.
Knight sitting disconsolate.
Knight.
Sure there's some power unseen, unmeet for man
To cope with, watches o'er that witching thing.
First by a stripling I was stunn'd, and laid
Flat without motion; next to slough decoy'd,
Bay'd by a madman—by a blood-hound torn.
If I escape infection from the fangs
Of that outraged monster, I shall never
Strive for possession of that maiden more,
Though my heart burn within me.

Enter Spirit, who speaks and sings aside.
Spirit.
Then my sport will all be done;
Knight, before the rising sun,
Wet and weary, rack'd with pain,
You shall seek that maid again.
Sings.

Knight.
Holloa! who goes there?

Spirit.
(Aside, imitating.)

Holloa! who goes there?
(To him.)
A true man, sir, or one that may soon be
so—an honest blithe youth, and a lover to boot;—
fa lal de ral all, &c.

(Sings and skips about.)
Knight.

You a man? You a lover? An elfin brat,
by the soul of King Cowl! But if thou art a devil,
thou art a merry one. Pray, master lover, what

man, or youth, or boy, would thus run frisking and
capering about in the woods, and singing by the
light of the moon?

Spirit
sings.
By the wan light o' the moon,
By the wan light o' the moon,
He staw into his love's window
By a blink o' the dowy moon.
But wae be to the fause grey cock,
For he craw'd an hour owre soon;
The lassie thought it day when she sent her love away,
But it was but a blink o' the moon.

[Spirit.]

I am going a wooing, sweet sir, but, like the grey
cock, I'm an hour o'er soon. O that the time were
come, for my heart is like to flutter out of its little
tenement!

Knight.

You going a wooing?

Spirit.

Ay, sir, I; and I'll come speed too.—I
know my time—O that it were come!—Pray, sir,
did you ever see this flower of all the world that has
made its appearance at that white cottage in the
glen?

Knight.

Ay, forsooth!

Spirit.

It is there I go—O my heart is all on
flame when I think of her, and the joys that await
me there! I have heard her sentiments of love and
lovers, and I shall not use her as the silly Knight of
Auchingaur has done. Goodbye, sir; farewell.

Knight.

Holloa!—Stop, sweet youth—Come near
me, if you please, and let me look at you—Who the
devil are you?

Spirit.

It is not material—fal lal, &c.—O, sweet
adorable Lady Lula! What a mean-spirited lifeless
driveller he must be, your Knight of Auchingaur!
Were I but loved and desired as he has been, I
would not lose such blest opportunities, nor shall

you ever complain of me, as you do to all the world
of him!

Knight.

Do you know that knight, sir?

Spirit.

No, but it matters not; he must be a man
of wood—a piece of cold clay soil baked up, without
the leaven of life or animation. If he had heard
what I have heard from her own lips! or seen what
I have seen!—O were I but that knight!—But as
it is, I'll have her myself—Goodbye, sweet sir.
Pray, why do you sit watching and writhing here?
—But it is all one—I care not.

Sings.

(Exit singing.)
Knight.

A plague go with thee, atom of impertinence!
What skip-jack is this? Well, go thy ways,
jews-ear: if thou art not worried like a rabbit ere
thou gainest the door, I bode wrong.—But what a
piece of intelligence! I was sure the girl affected
me—she could not hide that; but I never weened
that I had baulk'd her expectations so much.—I
now know my cue, and she shall not again complain
of me.—But let me consider—Can I go home tonight,
and another gone avowedly to steal on her
rest, while she is perhaps dreaming of me? No; wet,
weary, and torn as I am, I must go back the way I

came; and should the mastiff worry yon ape, which
I joyfully predict, then shall I take his place; but
if I find him where his betters should be, I'll mince
him! I will!—Oh me!

(He halts away.)