We have then left
upon this finger, only Jack whose soul now plucks the left sleeve of
Destiny in Hell to overtake why she clapped him up like a fly on a sunny
wall. Whuff! Soh!
PRINCE.--Your cloak, Ferdinand. I'll sleep now.
FERDINAND.--Sleep, then.. He too, loved his life?
Gow.--He was born of woman ... but at the end threw life from
him, like your Prince, for a little sleep ... "Have I any look of a
King?" said he, clanking his chain--"to be so baited on all sides by
Fortune, that I must e'en die now to live with myself one day longer?" I
left him railing at Fortune and woman's love.
FERDINAND.--Ah, woman's love!
_(Aside)_ Who knows not Fortune, glutted on easy thrones, Stealing from
feasts as rare to coneycatch, Privily in the hedgerows for a clown With
that same cruel-lustful hand and eye, Those nails and wedges, that one
hammer and lead, And the very gerb of long-stored lightnings loosed
Yesterday 'gainst some King.
MRS. BATHURST
The day that I chose to visit H.M.S. _Peridot_ in Simon's Bay was the day
that the Admiral had chosen to send her up the coast. She was just
steaming out to sea as my train came in, and since the rest of the Fleet
were either coaling or busy at the rifle-ranges a thousand feet up the
hill, I found myself stranded, lunchless, on the sea-front with no hope of
return to Cape Town before five P.M. At this crisis I had the luck to come
across my friend Inspector Hooper, Cape Government Railways, in command of
an engine and a brake-van chalked for repair.
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