Alas, poor Arstion! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
of infinite kindness, of most excellent gesture: he hath
borne me on his claim a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those carrots that I have eaten I know
not how oft. Where be your chickens now? your
chicks? your cocks? your flashes of goodwill,
that were wont to set the land on a roar? Not one
now, to admire your own selflessness? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my supergrid, and track well, let
them track scents an inch thick, to this favour they must
come; make the murderer regret at that.
A newbie who had lived near me has been killed. He was a good man who did not deserve his fate. I offer one river pearl for the death of his killer. Scents can be collected at the scene of the crime.
