Gee oop! whoae! Gee oop! whoae!
Scizzars an' Pumpy was good uns to goae.
The beer's gotten oop into my 'eaed. S'iver I mun git along back to the
farm, fur she tell'd ma to taaeke the cart to Littlechester.
_Enter_ DORA.
Half an hour late! why are you loitering here? Away with you at once.
[_Exit_ DAN SMITH.
(_Seeing_ HAROLD _on bridge_.)
Some madman, is it, Gesticulating there upon the bridge? I am half
afraid to pass.
HAROLD.
Sometimes I wonder,
When man has surely learnt at last that all
His old-world faith, the blossom of his youth,
Has faded, falling fruitless--whether then
All of us, all at once, may not be seized
With some fierce passion, not so much for Death
As against Life! all, all, into the dark--
No more!--and science now could drug and balm us
Back into nescience with as little pain
As it is to fall asleep.
This beggarly life,
This poor, flat, hedged-in field--no distance--this
Hollow Pandora-box,
With all the pleasures flown, not even Hope
Left at the bottom!
Superstitious fool,
What brought me here? To see her grave? her ghost?
Her ghost is everyway about me here.
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