While shooting in the park, the holy man,
Dear Obededom, saw I near the gate,
And talking with the soldiers of the guard
On the pretext of edifying them
By preaching to them. Then he gave them drink,
Then money, and at last he said to them:
"Until to-night! The countersign will be
"'Cologne and Whitehall.'"
Giraff [clapping his hands joyfully.
'Tis some emissary
Of Charles!
Elespuru.Of Cromwell, rather, my good friend,
If by the imprecations I may judge
Which in his savage wrath our master's son,
Richard, imprisoned on the traitor's word,
Did vomit forth against him.
Giraff [laughing.] True it is!
Richard, who'll be condemned to death ere long,
Would fain have killed his father! On my soul,
'Tis most diverting.
Trick. I have something here
That is more laughable than that.
Gramadoch. In truth?
Giraff.Nay, Master Trick, that may not be!
Elespuru.What is it, pray?
Trick. Into my hand it fell
From out the pocket of our sapient priest.
Gramadoch.Bah! His some sermon, dismal and horrific,
With hell beginning, ending with the devil.
Let us forthwith instruct ourselves. 'Tis meet
That every fool should study carefully
The jargon of the Puritans.
