Quoth he, "O whither, wicked Bruin,
Art thou fled to my"--Echo, Ruin?
"I thought th' hadst scorn'd to budge a step
For fear." Quoth Echo, Marry guep.
"Am I not here to take thy part?"
Then what has quell'd thy stubborn heart?
Have these bones rattled, and this head
So often in thy quarrel bled?
Nor did I ever winch or grudge it,
For thy dear sake." Quoth she, Mum budget.
Think'st thou 'twill not be laid i' th' dish,
Thou turn'dst thy back?" Quoth Echo, Pish.
To run from those th' hadst overcome
Thus cowardly?" Quoth Echo, Mum.
"But what a-vengeance makes thee fly
From me too as thine enemy?
Or if thou hadst no thought of me,
Nor what I have endured for thee,
Yet shame and honour might prevail
To keep thee thus from turning tail:
For who would grudge to spend his blood in
His honour's cause?" Quoth she, A pudding.
Part I., Cant. 3, 183.
NEXT ESSAY
Hoc est quod palles? Cur quis non prandeat, hoc est?
PERS., Sat. iii. 85.
Is it for this you gain those meagre looks,
And sacrifice your dinner to your books?
Several kinds of false wit that vanished in the refined ages of the
world, discovered themselves again in the times of monkish
ignorance.
As the monks were the masters of all that little learning which was
then extant, and had their whole lives entirely disengaged from
business, it is no wonder that several of them, who wanted genius
for higher performances, employed many hours in the composition of
such tricks in writing as required much time and little capacity.
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