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She has been dead and I so short a time! . . . 1 lor little hands are hardly cold as yet; Bit* ihtty can show such cruel indecency As to !«t trumpets play!
They guess not, sir,
That you can hear them, or their chords would cease. Their boisterous music fetches back to me That, of our errands to your Majesty, One was congratulation most sincere Upon this glorious victory you have won. The news is just in port; the band booms out To celebrate it, and to honour you.
KING A victory ? ! ? Pray where ?
Indeed so, sir :
Hard by Albuera~far in harried Spain— Yes, sir; you have achieved a victory Of dash unmatched and feats unparalleled!
H^says I have won a battle? But I thought I was a poor afflicted captive here, In darkness lingering out my lonely days, Beset with terror of these myrmidons That suck my blood like vampires! Ay, ay, ay!— No aims left to me but to quicken death To quicklier please my son!—And yet he says That I have won a battle! O God, curse, damn! When will the speech of the world accord with truth, And men's tongues roll sincerely!