Shaw no mercy,
God o' Heaven, but pile agony 'pon agony mountains high for en; an' let
mine be the hand to send his cussed sawl to hell, for Christ's sake, Amen!"
"Oh, my Guy Faux! theer's cussin'! An' yet 'tedn' gwaine to do a happard
[Footnote: _Happard_--Halfpennyworth.] o' good; an' you wouldn' be no
happier for knawin' sich a prayer was granted," said Thomasin; but Gray
Michael applauded the outburst, and his words ended that strange spectacle
of two men, for the time both mad.
"Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Braave prayin'! Braave savor for the Lard's
nose--sweeter than the blood o' beasts. You'm a shinin' light, cap'n--a
trumpet in the battle, like the sound o' the sea-wind when it begins to
sting afore heavy weather, an' the waters roll to the top o' the bulwarks
an' awver. 'The snorting of his horses was heard from Dan'--sea-horses us
calls 'em nowadays. Mount an' ride, mount an' ride! 'Cursed be the man that
trusteth in man,' saith the Lard; but the beasts be truer, thanks to the
wickedness o' God, who's spared 'em the curse o' brain paarts, but stricken
man wi' a mighty intelligence. 'Twas a fine an' cruel act, for the more
mind the more misery. 'Twas a damned act sure 'nough! Doan't 'e let on
'bout it, mate, but theer'll be clever surprises at Judgment, an' the fust
to be damned'll be the God o' the Hebrews Hisself for givin' o' brains to
weak heads. Then the thrawn o' heaven'll stand empty--empty--the plaace
'tween the cherubims empty; an' they'll call 'pon me to fill it so like's
not.
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