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Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875

"Hereward, the Last of the English"

Mare was mare, and
colt was colt, Mr. Prince, if I have eyes to see."
"And what are eyes against enchantments? The moment you opened the door,
the spell was cast over them again. You ought to thank your stars that no
worse has happened yet; that the enchanter, in fleeing, has not wrung your
neck as he went out, or cast a spell on you, which will fire your barns,
lame your geese, give your fowls the pip, your horses the glanders, your
cattle the murrain, your children the St. Vitus' dance, your wife the
creeping palsy, and yourself the chalk-stones in all your fingers."
"The Lord have mercy on me! If the half of this be true, I will turn
Christian. I will send for a priest, and be baptized to-morrow!"
"O my sister, my sister! Dost thou not know me? Dost thou answer my
caresses with kicks? Or is thy heart, as well as thy body, so enchained by
that cruel necromancer, that thou preferest to be his, and scornest thine
own salvation, leaving me to eat grass till I die?"
"I say, Prince,--I say,--What would you have a man to do? I bought the
mare honestly, and I have kept her well. She can't say aught against me on
that score. And whether she be princess or not, I'm loath to part with
her."
"Keep her then, and keep with her the curse of all the saints and angels.
Look down, ye holy saints" (and the thing poured out a long string of
saints' names), "and avenge this catholic princess, kept in bestial
durance by an unbaptized heathen! May his--"
"Don't! don't!" roared Dirk.


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