The people in the Pit had a favourite call on the night of "Buck, Buck, rise up" and "Buck, Buck, how many horns do I hold up." Kotzebue the German Dramatist and traitor to his country was murdered lately by a young student whose name I forget--he stabbed himself immediately after crying out Germany! Germany! I was unfortunate to miss Richards the only time I have been for many months to see him. Shall I treat you with a little extempore?-- When they were come into the Faery's Court They rang--no one at home--all gone to sport And dance and kiss and love as faerys do For Faries be as humans lovers true. Amid the woods they were so lone and wild, Where even the Robin feels himself exil'd, And where the very brooks, as if afraid, Hurry along to some less magic shade. 'No one at home!' the fretful princess cry'd; 'And all for nothing such a dreary ride, And all for nothing my new diamond cross; No one to see my Persian feathers toss, No one to see my Ape, my Dwarf, my Fool, Or how I pace my Otaheitan mule. Ape, Dwarf, and Fool, why stand you gaping there, Burst the door open, quick--or I declare I'll switch you soundly and in pieces tear.' The Dwarf began to tremble, and the Ape Star'd at the Fool, the Fool was all agape, The Princess grasp'd her switch, but just in time The dwarf with piteous face began to rhyme. 'O mighty Princess, did you ne'er hear tell What your poor servants know but too too well? Know you the three great crimes in faery land? The first, alas! poor Dwarf, I understand, I made a whipstock of a faery's wand; The next is snoring in their company; The next, the last, the direst of the three, Is making free when they are not at home. I was a Prince--a baby prince--my doom, You see, I made a whipstock of a wand, My top has henceforth slept in faery land. He was a Prince, the Fool, a grown-up Prince, But he has never been a King's son since He fell a snoring at a faery Ball. Your poor Ape was a Prince, and he poor thing Picklock'd a faery's boudoir--now no king But ape--so pray your highness stay awhile, 'Tis sooth indeed, we know it to our sorrow-- Persist and _you_ may be an ape to-morrow.' While the Dwarf spake the Princess, all for spite, Peel'd the brown hazel twig to lilly white, Clench'd her small teeth, and held her lips apart, Try'd to look unconcern'd with beating heart. They saw her highness had made up her mind, A-quavering like the reeds before the wind-- And they had had it, but O happy chance The Ape for very fear began to dance And grinn'd as all his ugliness did ache-- She staid her vixen fingers for his sake, He was so very ugly: then she took Her pocket-mirror and began to look First at herself and then at him, and then She smil'd at her own beauteous face again. Yet for all this--for all her pretty face-- She took it in her head to see the place. Women gain little from experience