MORCAR. Earl first, and after that
Who knows I may not dream myself their king!
SCENE I.—SEASHORE. PONTHIEU. NIGHT.
HAROLD and his MEN, wrecked.
HAROLD. Friends, in that last inhospitable plunge
Our boat hath burst her ribs; but ours are whole;
I have but bark’d my hands.
ATTENDANT. I dug mine into
My old fast friend the shore, and clinging thus
Felt the remorseless outdraught of the deep
Haul like a great strong fellow at my legs,
And then I rose and ran. The blast that came
So suddenly hath fallen as suddenly—
Put thou the comet and this blast together—
HAROLD. Put thou thyself and mother-wit together.
Be not a fool!
Enter FISHERMEN with
torches, HAROLD going
up to one of them, ROLF.
Wicked sea-will-o’-the-wisp!
Wolf of the shore! dog, with thy lying lights
Thou hast betray’d us on these rocks of thine!
ROLF. Ay, but thou liest as loud as the black
herring-pond behind thee. We be fishermen; I
came to see after my nets.
HAROLD. To drag us into them. Fishermen?
devils!
Who, while ye fish for men with your false fires,
Let the great Devil fish for your own souls.
ROLF. Nay then, we be liker the blessed Apostles;
they were fishers of men, Father Jean says.
HAROLD. I had liefer that the fish had swallowed
me,
Like Jonah, than have known there were such devils.
What’s to be done?
[To
his MEN—goes apart with them.
FISHERMAN. Rolf, what fish did swallow Jonah?
ROLF. A whale!
FISHERMAN. Then a whale to a whelk we have swallowed
the King of England. I saw him over there.
Look thee, Rolf, when I was down in the fever, she
was down with the hunger, and thou didst stand by her
and give her thy crabs, and set her up again, till
now, by the patient Saints, she’s as crabb’d
as ever.
ROLF. And I’ll give her my crabs again,
when thou art down again.
FISHERMAN. I thank thee, Rolf. Run thou
to Count Guy; he is hard at hand. Tell him what
hath crept into our creel, and he will fee thee as
freely as he will wrench this outlander’s ransom
out of him—and why not? for what right
had he to get himself wrecked on another man’s
land?
ROLF. Thou art the human-heartedest, Christian-charitiest
of all
crab-catchers. Share and share alike!
[Exit.
HAROLD (to FISHERMAN).
Fellow, dost thou catch crabs?
FISHERMAN. As few as I may in a wind, and less
than I would in a calm.
Ay!
HAROLD. I have a mind that thou shalt catch no
more.
FISHERMAN. How?
HAROLD. I have a mind to brain thee with mine
axe.
