"It will do you no harm, William," he said, "to rough it for a night or two, and you will prove yourself thereby of a different stamp from Timon's friends." And here the doctor, who loved to quote poetry, especially Shakspeare's, better than to administer medicine, indulged again in his favorite habit: "'As we do turn our backs From our companion thrown into his grave, So his familiars, to his buried fortunes, Slink all away; leave their false vows with him, Like empty purses picked, and his poor self A dedicated beggar to the air.' But, Mr. Holden, lend me thy ears a moment, and thy tongue, too, if you please, for you must tell me how this happened. I do not care to disturb Pownal with the inquiry." So saying, he walked out of the chamber, followed by the Recluse. "Tell me first," said Holden, as they stood in the open air, "what thou thinkest of the wound." "Ha!" cried the doctor, "'tis not so deep as a well nor so wide as a church door; but 'tis enough--'twill serve." "What!" exclaimed the Recluse, "hast thou been deceiving the boy! But no, thou art incapable of that; and, besides, I have seen too many wounds to apprehend danger from this." "I see, friend, you have read Shakspeare to some purpose," cried the doctor; "but know that I spoke not in the sense in which Mercutio speaks of the wound that Tybalt gave him. My mirth is not so grave as poor Mercutio's. Look you, now, I told you but the simple truth, and what your own eyes have seen. The wound _is not_ so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door. If it were--admitting the physical possibility--Pownal would be a monster to look at, and no dressings of mine would be of any use. And it is enough, too. You would not have it more. Besides, 'twill serve; that is, to keep him a day or two in your cabin. And herein consists one of the innumerable excellences of Shakspeare. Every sentence is as full of matter as my saddle-bags of medicine. Why, I will engage to pick out as many meanings in each as there are plums in a pudding. But, friend, I am sure you must have a copy. Let me see it." "I know little of these vanities," replied Holden. "In my giddy youth, I drank such follies, even as the ass sucketh up the east wind. But it pleased the Lord to open mine eyes. In thoughts from the visions of the night," he continued--and his eyes shone brighter, and his stature seemed to increase--"when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a vision passed before me, and the hair of my flesh stood up. It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes--there was silence, and then I heard a voice saying, 'Behold, I come quickly; watch and pray, for thou knowest not the day nor the hour!' I was not disobedient to the heavenly warning, and thenceforth the pomps and vanities of the world have been as the dust beneath my feet."