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Poe, Edgar Allen

"Criticism"

But be quick, for I am in a hurry,
and every one stretches his legs according to the length of his
coverlet. What have we here?
BALTASAR. [setting a light on the table]. Stewed rabbit.
CHISPA. [eating]. Conscience of Portalegre! stewed kitten you mean!
BALTASAR. And a pitcher of Pedro Ximenes, with a roasted pear in it.
CHISPA [drinking]. Ancient Baltasar, amigo! You know how to cry wine
and sell vinegar. I tell you this is nothing but Vino Tinto of La
Mancha, with a tang of the swine-skin.
BALTASAR. I swear to you by Saint Simon and Judas, it is all as I
say.
CHISPA. And I swear to you by Saint Peter and Saint Paul that it
is no such thing. Moreover, your supper is like the hidalgo's
dinner- very little meat and a great deal of tablecloth.
BALTASAR. Ha! ha! ha!
CHISPA. And more noise than nuts.
BALTASAR. Ha! ha! ha! You must have your joke, Master Chispa. But
shall I not ask Don Victorian in to take a draught of the Pedro
Ximenes?
CHISPA. No; you might as well say, "Don't you want some?" to a
dead man.
BALTASAR. Why does he go so often to Madrid?
CHISPA. For the same reason that he eats no supper. He is in love.
Were you ever in love, Baltasar?
BALTASAR. I was never out of it, good Chispa. It has been the
torment of my life.
CHISPA. What! are you on fire, too, old hay-stack? Why, we shall
never be able to put you out.


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