er course of life, we are not told, but we remember once hearing a
fast man suggest that they were evidently "nobs who had overdrawn the
badger by driving fast cattle, and going it high"--the exact
signification of which words we did not understand, but supposed them to
refer to scions of nobility who had squandered their patrimonies in
riotous living. That these men are lost beyond the hope of redemption,
is clear from the fact that they express their determination to employ
themselves in no more useful or moral way; and how long they would
persist in this pernicious amusement is rendered uncertain, by the
entrance of their leader or chieftain--who, it is needless to say, is
the tenor. From, the first moment that the spectator casts his eye on
this obviously unfortunate individual, he is at once interested in his
case, observing to himself, that if the fellow is somewhat addicted to
low company, still he's a very gentlemanly character, and to all
appearance
"The mildest manner'd man
That ever sculled ship or cut a throat."
His looks are sad and melancholy, and would indicate that he is either
suffering from a cold in the head, or that his outlaws had been a little
more successful at "all fours" than himself. The "dejected haviour of
his visage" seems to touch the audience, for they immediately give him
several rounds of applause, no doubt with the intention of raising his
spirits. This kind manifestation of their feelings is responded to by
one or two low bows, and then he turns towards his outlaws to obtain a
becoming reception from them.
He is greeted by his followers with the greatest enthusiasm; though, to
their inquiries after his health, he makes no reply, but walks languidly
down to the foot-lights, and relates to both audience and outlaws, how
deplorable will be his condition unless he receive the assistance of
the latter in carrying out his designs. He goes on to state that the
"voice of a certain damsel of Arragon has slid into his heart like dew
upon a parched flower"--a simile which the reader will observe to be
equally felicitous as novel. He adds, however, that a great old villain
and tyrant (who of course must be the basso,) has carried off the
Spanish maiden, and is about to compel her to marry him. The bandits
become at once highly indignant, and with one accord seize their arms
and declare that they will follow their chief to the castle of the old
phylogynist, and _boulverse_ all his des
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