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Updated: May 16, 2025
Truly after Khipil's punishment there were few in the dominions of Shahpesh who sought to win the honours bestowed by him on gabblers and idlers: as again the poet: When to loquacious fools with patience rare I listen, I have thoughts of Khipil's chair: His bath, his nosegay, and his fount I see, Himself stretch'd out as a pomegranate-tree.
His art is nowhere better seen than in his endings. Is it Lycidas? After the thunder of approaching vengeance on the hireling shepherds of the Church, comes sunset and quiet: "And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills, And now was dropt into the western bay; At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue: To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new." Is it Paradise Lost?
With which she turn'd, dealt the old man a cuff that stretch'd him senseless, and gathering up the turves, piled them afresh on the hearth. This done, she took the keg and gave me a drink of it. The stuff scalded me, but I thanked her. And then, when she had shifted my bed a bit, to ease the pain of lying, she righted a chair, drew it up and sat beside me.
But what more took our attention was to see a row of men stretch'd on the starboard side, like corpses, their heads in the scuppers, their legs pointed inboard, and very orderly arranged. They were a dozen and two in all, and over them bent Captain Billy with a mop in his hand, and a bucket by his side: who beckon'd that we should approach.
And when, at length, stretch'd on his bed of death, And powerless, friendless, o'er his clammy brow The dark'ning shades descend, strong to the last His avarice lives; and while he feebly plucks His wretched coverlet, he gasps for breath, And thinks he gathers gold!
Stand to thy linstock, gunner; let thy cannon Play such a peal, as if a paynim foe Came stretch'd in turban'd ranks to storm the ramparts. We will have pageants too but that craves wit, And I'm a rough-hewn soldier.
My hand was stretch'd out to catch it up, when I heard across the hall a door open'd, and the sound of men's voices. They were coming toward the office. There was scarce time to slip back, and hide behind the screen, before the door latch was lifted, and two men enter'd, laughing yet. "Sure," the other answer'd, "I thought we had settled it. You are to lend me a thousand out of your garrison "
I woke with a start, and tried to sit up. Within the kitchen all was quiet. The old savage was still stretch'd on the floor: the cat curled upon the hearth. The girl had not stirr'd: but looking toward the window hole, I saw night out side, and a frosty star sparkling far down in the west. "Joan, what's the hour?" "Sun's been down these four hours." She turned her face to look at me.
The sweat started in great globules seemingly from every pore in his face; his skinny lips contracted, and show'd his teeth; and when he at length stretch'd forth his arm, and with the end of one of his fingers touch'd the child's cheek, each limb quiver'd like the tongue of a snake; and his strength seemed as though it would momentarily fail him. The boy was dead.
Had it been brought to maturity we should have had further traits of autobiography, the room already described was probably his own squalid quarters in Green Arbor Court; and in a subsequent morsel of the poem we have the poet himself, under the euphonious name of Scroggin: "Where the Red Lion peering o'er the way, Invites each passing stranger that can pay; Where Calvert's butt and Parson's black champagne Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury Lane: There, in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug, The muse found Scroggin stretch'd beneath a rug; A nightcap deck'd his brows instead of bay, A cap by night, a stocking all the day!"
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