The Knife-grinder. This poor old hat and breeches, as you see, were "Constables came up for to take me into Custody; they took me before the justice; Justice Oldmixon put me in the parish Stocks for a vagrant. "I should be glad to drink your Honour's health in A pot of beer, if you will give me sixpence ; But for my part, I never love to meddle With politics, sir." FRIEND OF HUMANITY. "I give thee sixpence! I will see thee damn'd firstWretch whom no sense of wrongs can rouse to vengeance Sordid, unfeeling, reprobate, degraded, Spiritless outcast!” [Kicks the Knife-grinder, overturns his whee!, and exit in a transport of Republican enthusiasm and universal philanthropy.] HENE'ER with haggard eyes I view Who studied with me at the U -niversity of Gottingen, -niversity of Gottingen. [Weeps, and pulls out a blue kerchief, with which he wipes his eyes; gazing tenderly at it, he proceeds Sweet kerchief, check'd with heavenly blue, Which once my love sat knotting in! Alas! Matilda then was true! Al least I thought so at the U -niversity of Gottingen -niversity of Gottingen. [At the repetition of this line ROGERO clanks his chains in cudence. The University of Gottingen. Barbs! Barbs! alas! how swift you flew Forlorn I languish'd at the U— This faded form! this pallid hue! -niversity of Gottingen There first for thee my passion grew, Sweet! sweet Matilda Pottingen! Thou wast the daughter of my tu-tor, law professor at the U- -niversity of Gottingen--niversity of Gottingen. Sun, moon, and thou vain world, adieu, --niversity of Gottingen- -niversity of Gottingen. [During the last stanza ROGERO dashes his head repeatedly against the walls of his prison; and, finally, so hard as to produce a visible contusion; he then throws himself on the floor in an agony. The curtain drops; the music still continuing to play till it is wholly fallen. B EN BLOCK was a vet'ran of naval renown, And renown was his only reward; For The Board still neglected his merits to crown, Yet brave as old Benbow was sturdy Old Ben, And he'd laugh at the cannon's loud roar: When the death-dealing broadside made worm's meat of men, And the scuppers were streaming with gore. |