Page:Ruddigore.djvu/72



For she is such a smart little craft Such a neat little, sweet little craft—
 * Such a bright little—
 * Tight little—
 * Slight little—
 * Light little—

Trim little, slim little craft!

For she is such a smart little craft, etc.

For a week I have fulfilled my accursed doom! I have duly committed a crime a day! Not a great crime, I trust, but still, in the eyes of one as strictly regulated as I used to be, a crime. But will my ghostly ancestors be satisfied with what I have done, or will they regard it as an unworthy subterfuge? [Addressing Pictures.] Oh, my forefathers, wallowers in blood, there came at last a day when, sick of crime, you, each and every, vowed to sin no more, and so, in agony, called welcome Death to free you from your cloying guiltiness. Let the sweet psalm of that repentant hour soften your long-dead hearts, and tune your souls to mercy on your poor posterity!

Painted emblems of a race
 * All accurst in days of yore,

Each from his accustomed place
 * Steps into the world once more.

Baronet of Ruddigore,
 * Last of our accursed line,

Down upon the oaken floor—
 * Down upon those knees of thine.