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And again he reviles both parties for their grumblings in the times that followed: Nay, if one must lay blame where blame is due, Wer't not for me, the people ne'er had set Their eyes upon these blessings e'en in dreams: While greater men, the men of wealthier life, Should praise me and should court me as their friend. For had any other man, he says, received this exalted post,
Love in full life and length, not love ideal, No, nor ideal beauty, that fine name, But something better still, so very real, That the sweet Model must have been the same; A thing that you would purchase, beg, or steal, Wer't not impossible, besides a shame; The face recalls some face, as 'twere with pain. You once have seen, but ne'er will see again;
Hum hum very noble, i'faith, we'll e'en confess our loves too, Isabella. Isa. S'life, he'll spoil all, hold pray let your Betters be serv'd before you. Guil. How! Is the Honour of my Love despised? wer't not i'th presence of the Great Turk, for whom I have a reverence because he's a man of quality by Jove, I'd draw upon you. Isa. Because you were my Lover once, when I'm Queen I'll pardon you.
In Nithsdale the elf-child displays a superhuman power of work. The mother left it on one occasion in the charge of a servant-girl, who sat bemoaning herself. "Wer't nae for thy girning face I would knock the big, winnow the corn, and grun the meal!" "Lowse the cradle band," cried the child, "and tent the neighbours, an' I'll work yere wark."
I doe not like This kind of service: could I, by this tricke, Of a voice counterfeited & confessing The murther of my father, trusse up this yonker And so make my selfe heire & a yonger brother Of him, 'twere a good dayes worke. Wer't not fine angling? Hold line and hook: Ile puzzle him. Enter Manuell & Buzzano. Man. Morrow, brother. Hen. Oh, good morrow: you have slept soundly. Man.
'What is the meaning of all this, Gwenny? I asked, as I slipped about on the floor, for I could not stand there firmly with my great snow-shoes on. 'Maning enough, and bad maning too, the Cornish girl made answer. Us be shut in here, and starving, and durstn't let anybody in upon us. I wish thou wer't good to ate, young man: I could manage most of thee.
"We knew well enough that thou mightest be trusted when thou wer't sober, Bill," his wife said gently; "but as about four nights a week at that time thou wast drunk, and might ha' blabbed it out, and had known nowt in the morning o' what thou'dst said, Jack and I were of a mind that less said soonest mended."
Look how he tempteth thee with is decoy, That he may rob thee of thy life, thy joy. Come, pr'ythee bird, I pr'ythee come away, Why should this net thee take, when 'scape thou may? Hadst thou not wings, or were thy feathers pull'd, Or wast thou blind, or fast asleep wer't lull'd, The case would somewhat alter, but for thee, Thy eyes are ope, and thou hast wings to flee.
I asked, as I slipped about on the floor, for I could not stand there firmly with my great snow-shoes on. "Maning enough, and bad maning too," the Cornish girl made answer. "Us be shut in here, and starving, and durstn't let anybody in upon us. I wish thou wer't good to ate, young man: I could manage most of thee."
"O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove, Wer't not that thy sour leisure gives sweet leave To entertain the time with thoughts of love." Shakespeare. "And so you think of going back to Ottawa so soon?
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