KENILWORTH - Penn State University

Sir Walter Scottbeen enough to keep my lads and me in some heart!”“Pshaw, man!” replied Lambourne, on whom his lastdraught, joined to repeated visitations of the pitcher uponformer occasions, began to make some innovation, “thouspeakest thou knowest not what about spirits. No one knowsjustly what to say about them; and, in short, least said may inthat matter be soonest amended. Some men believe in onething, some in another —it is all matter of fancy. I have knownthem of all sorts, my dear Lawrence Lock-the-door, and sensiblemen too. There’s a great lord—we’ll pass his name,Lawrence—he believes in the stars and the moon, the planetsand their courses, and so forth, and that they twinkle exclusivelyfor his benefit, when in sober, or rather in drunkentruth, Lawrence, they are only shining to keep honest fellowslike me out of the kennel. Well, sir, let his humour pass; he isgreat enough to indulge it. Then, look ye, there is another—a very learned man, I promise you, and can vent Greek andHebrew as fast as I can Thieves’ Latin he has an humour ofsympathies and antipathies—of changing lead into gold, andthe like; why, via, let that pass too, and let him pay those intransmigrated coin who are fools enough to let it be currentwith them. Then here comest thou thyself, another great man,though neither learned nor noble, yet full six feet high, andthou, like a purblind mole, must needs believe in ghosts andgoblins, and such like. Now, there is, besides, a great man—that is, a great little man, or a little great man, my dearLawrence—and his name begins with V, and what believeshe? Why, nothing, honest Lawrence—nothing in earth,heaven, or hell; and for my part, if I believe there is a devil, itis only because I think there must be some one to catch ouraforesaid friend by the back ‘when soul and body sever,’ asthe ballad says; for your antecedent will have a consequent—raro antecedentem, as Doctor Bircham was wont to say. Butthis is Greek to you now, honest Lawrence, and in sooth learningis dry work. Hand me the pitcher once more.”“In faith, if you drink more, Michael,” said the warder, “youwill be in sorry case either to play Arion or to wait on yourmaster on such a solemn night; and I expect each moment tohear the great bell toll for the muster at Mortimer’s Tower, toreceive the Queen.”While Staples remonstrated, Lambourne drank; and thensetting down the pitcher, which was nearly emptied, with a333