C. Wal. In hers? In ours, Sir!
Abbot. Idleness, Sir, deceit, and immorality, are the three
children of this same barbarous self-indulgence in almsgiving.
Leave the poor alone. Let want teach them the need of self-
exertion, and misery prove the foolishness of crime.
C. Wal. How? Teach them to become men by leaving them brutes?
Abbot. Oh, Sir, there we step in, with the consolations and
instructions of the faith.
C. Wal. Ay, but while the grass is growing the steed is starving;
and in the meantime, how will the callow chick Grace stand against
the tough old game-cock Hunger?
3d Count. Then how, in the name of patience, would you have us
alter things?
C. Wal. We cannot alter them, Sir--but they will be altered, never
fear.
Omnes. How? How?
C. Wal. Do you see this hour-glass?--Here's the state:
This air stands for the idlers;--this sand for the workers.
When all the sand has run to the bottom, God in heaven just turns
the hour-glass, and then--
C. Hugo. The world's upside down.
C. Wal. And the Lord have mercy upon us!
Omnes. On us? Do you call us the idlers?
C.
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