Morrice

“ For if you remember, Morrice, it was Culverton you robbed of Phœbe."
"Phœbe?" simpered Lord Culverton. "I remember no Phœbe. But in truth the pretty creatures pester one so impertinently that burn me if I don't jumble up their names. What was she like, Mr. Buckler?"
"She was piebald," said I gravely, "and needed cudgelling before she would walk."
"And Morrice killed her," added Elmscott, with a laugh. ”

“ And through Gil Morrice's fair bodie
He garred cauld iron gae.—Gil Morrice.
[25]
And first he kissed her cherry cheek,
And syne he kissed her chin;
And syne he kissed her rosy lips—
There was nae breath within.—Lass o' Lochryan.
To kiss cheek and chin in succession is very peculiar; and it is by such peculiar ideas that identity of authorship is indicated.
[26] That is, so exactly measured.
[27] In Childe Maurice, in Percy's folio manuscript, the hero says:
'... ”

“ I replied. "It is Buckler--Morrice Buckler. Sir Julian's servant came to me in Holland."
"Buckler!" the man repeated, as though he heard it for the first time. "Morrice Buckler! Yes, sir, that may be your name. I have nothing against it beyond that it is unfamiliar in these parts. But a strange name is a poor thing to persuade a man to forego his trust."
I looked at the man. Though elderly and somewhat bent, he was of a large frame, and the sinews stood out in knots upon his bared arms. ”

“ Between Marston and myself there already existed, then, a certain faint accidental connection. I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the cord which was to draw us together.
Elmscott's voice broke in upon my imaginings.
"So, Morrice, I have sure knowledge to back my words. No good can come of your journey, though harm may, and it will fall on you. 'Twere best to stay quietly in London. You may think your hair grey, but you will never save Julian Harnwood from the gallows." ”

“ We have given Gil Morrice as it stands in the Reliques, (iii. 132,) degrading to the margin those stanzas which are undoubtedly spurious, and we have added an ancient traditionary version, obtained by Motherwell, which, if it appear short and crude, is at least comparatively incorrupt. Chield Morice, taken down from recitation, and printed in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, (p. 269,) nearly resembles Gil Morrice, as here exhibited. We have also inserted in the Appendix Childe Maurice, "the very old imperfect copy," mentioned in the Reliques, and first published from the Percy MS. by Jamieson. ”

“ I understood what that first outburst meant when the gaoler had bidden me enter, and my gorge rose against this woman who could make such foul sport of her lover's trust. He read my thought in my face, and though he might upbraid his mistress himself, he would not suffer me to do the same.
"You must not blame her," he said earnestly, laying a hand upon my knee. "Blame me! Blame us who wantoned the days away at Whitehall, and cloyed the very air with our flatteries. You chose the right part, Morrice, a man's part--work. ”

“ At the time I had merely laughed at the menace, and slipped it from my thoughts. Afterwards, however, the remembrance of his visit came back to me, and with it a feeling of shame that I had lain thus sluggishly at Leyden while this monstrous web of rebellion was a-weaving about me in the neighbouring towns of Holland.
"'Art more of a woman than a man, Morrice, I fear me," said Jack. ”

“ Swasfield's horse was standing quietly in the road, tethered by the bridle to a tree.
"'Canst do it, Morrice, if the wind holds fair," replied Jack. "Heaven send a wind!" and he rose from the table and joined me. Together we stretched out to catch the least hint of a breeze. But not a breath came to us; not a tree shimmered, not a shadow stirred. The world slumbered in a hot stupor. It seemed you might have felt the air vibrate with the passage of a single bird.
Of a sudden Larke cried out:
"Art sure 'tis the fourteenth to-day?" ”

“ I almost began to dread that I should wake up in a moment to find myself in the dark, crouched up upon my bed in Cumberland. So powerfully did this fear possess me that I was on the point of crying aloud, "Speak! speak!" when Elmscott took me by the arm.
"Madame," said he, "I have taken the liberty of bringing hither my cousin, Mr. Morrice Buckler, who is anxious--as who is not?--for the honour of your acquaintance."
"It is no liberty," she replied graciously, in a voice that was exquisitely sweet, and she let her eyes fall upon my face with a quick and watchful scrutiny. ”

“ From our debate, from our dissension."
—Shakespeare
I
Fairies, come back! We have not seen
Your dusky foot-prints on the green
This many a year. No frolic now
Shakes the dew from the hawthorn-bough.
Never a man and never a maid
Spies you in the blue-bell shade;
Yet, where the nine men's morrice stood,
Our spades are clearing out the mud.
Chorus.—Come, little irised heralds, fling
Earth's Eden-gates apart, and sing
The bright eyes and the cordial hand
Of brotherhood thro' all our land.
II
Fairies, come back! ”

“ I remained where he left me, gazing blindly out of the window; for the shadow of a great trouble had fallen across my spirit. His words and the concise certainty of his tone had been the perfect voicing of my own forebodings. I did indeed believe that Fortune would some day pit us in a fresh antagonism; that somewhere in the future she had already set up the lists, and that clasp of the hands I felt to be our bond and surety that we would keep faith with her and answer to our names.
"Morrice," said Elmscott at my elbow, and I started like one waked from his sleep, "we'll go saddle your horse." ”

“ MONTH'S MIND, violent desire. MOORISH, like a moor or waste. MORGLAY, sword of Bevis of Southampton. MORRICE-DANCE, dance on May Day, etc., in which certain personages were represented. MORTALITY, death. ”

“ He proposed this his Design to his Brothers in Iniquity, who approving it, he, having the Watch at one o’ Clock in the Morning, on the 27th Day of May, went up to one Morrice Cundon, then at the Helm, accompanied by Alexander Mitchel, Henry Hill, Samuel Cole, Thomas Winthrop, and other Conspirators, and swore damn him, if he spoke one Word, or stirr’d either Hand or Foot, he would blow his Brains out; and, tucking up his Shirt above his Elbow, with a Cutlass in his Hand, he, with Mitchel, went into the Captain’s Cabbin, and told him, he must turn out. ”

“ I was resting upon a couch, which stood before the spinet; the lamps were lighted, and the curtains drawn across the window, so that my swoon must have lasted some while.
As I let my eyes rest upon the Countess, she slipped an arm under my head and raised it, taking at the same time a cup of cordial, which Clemence Durette held ready. 'Twas of a very potent description, and filled me with a great sense of comfort. Ilga moved her arm as though to withdraw it. "No," I murmured to her, and she smiled and let it remain.
"Come, Morrice," said Elmscott. "You have but to walk downstairs. ”

“ Host, I have thee, brave spirit, tha'rt of the true seede of Troy, lets be merrie and wise, merrie hearts live long; mine Host, my brave Host, with his neighbor Cornutus shall bee two of the Maskers, and the Morrice shall be daunc'd.
Cor. Not so, mine Host. I dare not doe so, t'will distemper my wife, my house will be unquiet; mum, mum, I know the world, well enough.
Host. Thou shall goe, saies mine Host, merrie hearts live long; welcome, bullie! mine Host shall make one, so shall my Cornutus, for if I say the word the mouse shall be dun.
Enter Bos with Porters. ”

“ He took it to London and submitted it to Garrick for representation at Drury Lane, but it was rejected as unsuitable for the stage. The tragedy of Douglas was suggested to him by hearing a lady sing the ballad of Gil Morrice or Child Maurice (F. J. Child, Popular Ballads, ii. 263) . The ballad supplied him with the outline of a simple and striking plot. After five years’ labour he completed his play, which he took to London for Garrick’s opinion. It also was rejected, but on his return to Edinburgh his friends resolved that it should be brought out in that city. ”

“ And crack wi your leman.'
'I would have you stay at home, Lord Barnard,
I would have you stay at home;
Never wyte a man for violence douce
That never thought you wrong.'
And when he to the green-wood went,
No body saw he there
But Chield Morice, on a milk-white steed,
Combing down his yellow hair.
Chield Morice sat in the gay green-wood,
He whistled and he sang:
'O what means a' thir folks coming?
My mother tarries lang.'
mother tarries lang.'
'No wonder, no wonder, Chield Morice,' he said,
'My lady loved thee weel;
For the whitest bit of my body
Is blacker than thy heel. ”

“ GOUVERNEUR MORRIS should have the benefit of her criticism, since my own is distinctly less favourable. Mr. MORRIS showed signs at one time of being able to write a first-class novel of adventure, but he abandoned this field for a more lucrative appeal to the Great American Bosom, whose taste, if I may say so without endangering the League of Nations, is more in harmony with my landlady's than with mine. His latest hero is one of those magnificent fellows whom no woman can resist—or so they tell him. ”

“ They wait."
"Wait?"
"For their seigneur's commands."
"And he?"
"Is in England, probably unconscious of his inheritance."
"You mean that Morry——?"
"Is also Monsieur le Marquis de Varenac."
"Ah! And his people await him?"
"As men watch for the dawn. He is to decide."
"Decide?"
"Whether Varenac plants the tree of liberty in her streets and starts on the path of murder, bloodshed, and terrorism, or whether she welcomes the coming of de Rouerie and his avengers."
For a few moments there was silence in the darkening room. Then Gabrielle spoke.
"And Morry must decide!" ”

“ To which the Frank replied, 'In order to judge of my patient's case I must not only feel the pulse, but see the tongue also.'
'Looking at the tongue is totally new in Persia,' said I; 'and I am sure you could never be indulged with such a sight in the seraglio, without a special order from the king himself; a eunuch would rather cut out his own tongue first.'
'Well, then,' said the doctor, 'recollect, that if I deliver my medicine to you, I do so without taking any responsibility upon myself for its effects ”

“ I entered the tap-room, whilst Morrik talked to the landlord outside, and sat quietly in the dusk for a while with closed eyes endeavouring to recover my calmness.
The room had a projecting bay window which formed a sort of recess, where sat, as a hasty glance when I entered had shown me, a young peasant, and a girl with their dinner and wine before them. They seemed to notice me as little as I did them. Morrik then came in, and sat down at a table beside me. He appeared more cheerful than usual, but also looked paler, as if the air had fatigued him. We talked about indifferent subjects. ”

“ Any one who had quitted Marseilles a few years previously, well acquainted with the interior of Morrel's warehouse, and had returned at this date, would have found a great change. Instead of that air of life, of comfort, and of happiness that permeates a flourishing and prosperous business establishment — instead of merry faces at the windows, busy clerks hurrying to and fro in the long corridors — instead of the court filled with bales of goods, re-echoing with the cries and the jokes of porters, one would have immediately perceived all aspect of sadness and gloom. ”

“ Mystiffio had Morry's eyes sticking out inside of thirty seconds. I hadn't told Morry about Horatio. I figured I'd let that angle ride for a while.
But Morry was really impressed.
"The guy is good," he said. "The things he does don't seem humanly possible."
Of course he didn't know that most of the effects were being created by the invisible Horatio but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And he didn't miss Alice, either. When she came on stage in her cute, abbreviated little costume, he straightened up and opened his eyes.
"The kid is nice," he murmured. ”

“ La Morisque and Morisco of France; the Moresca of Corsica, danced by armed men to represent a conflict between Moors and Christians—is in all reasonable probability Moorish in origin: never mind if in our own country it is become as English as fisticuffs, as the dance called "How d'ye do" will show—wherein our own folk, after their own manner, have suggested strife, as in the Corsican variety. Holland, as is told by Engel, was infected too; industrious research, in fact, will probably show that the Morris in some shape or other was known throughout Europe, and beyond. ”

“ We rode home early, as the sun so soon sets behind the mountains. Morrik was very merry, and talked to his mule, jestingly giving it credit for a sense of the beautiful; he stopped at the farms, and spoke to the children and their mothers, and as we rode past a white bearded old man whom we met panting up the hill, he stuck a paper florin in the old peasant's hat, and was delighted with the thought of what he would say when a passing acquaintance told him of the strange ornament. ”

“ Framed against the black opening Moira stood, pale, dark eyed, her black hair streaming over her flimsy dressing-gown, and then came forward noiselessly.
"Moira, child——!" he cried, rising, with an air of surprise.
"You must show me the proof——," she stammered, "what you said—to-morrow."
"Yes. If ye insist——"
"I do. It's a test—of the truth—between you and—and him——"
"I'll provide it. Ye'll leave with me on the twelve o'clock train for Marseilles?"
"Yes—anything."
"Very well," he muttered. "I'll arrange for it. I've some business in Nice. It's just as well if you come along." ”