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CHA P. Y V.

Bellarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. Bel. A goodly day! not to keep house, with such

Whose roof's as low as ours: see! boys, this gate Instructs you how t'adore the heav'ns: and bows

you

The morning's holy office. Gates of monarchs
Are arch'd so high, that giants may get through,
And keep their impious turbans on, without
Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heav'n!
We house i' th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly
As prouder livers do.

Guid. Hail Heav'n!

Arv. Hail Heav'n!

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Bel. Now for our mountain sport up to you

hill,

Your legs are young. I'll tread these flats. Consider,
When you, above, perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which lessens and sets off:

And you may
then revolve what tales I told you,
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war;
That service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd. To apprehend thus
Draws us a profit from all things we see;
And often to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold,
Than is the full wing'd eagle. Oh, this life
Is nobler than attending for a check:
Richer, than doing nothing for a bauble;
Prouder, than rustling in unpaid-for silk.
Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd:-no life to ours.
Guid. Out of your proof you speak; we, poor,
unfledg'd

Have never wing'd from view o'th' nest; nor know
What air's from home. Haply this life is best,
If quiet life is best: sweeter to you,

That have a sharper known; well corresponding

With your stiff age but unto us, it is
A cell of ign'rance; travelling a-bed;
A prison for a debtor that not dares
To stride a limit.

Arv. What should we speak of,

When we are old as yon? When we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December? how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing;
We're beastly; subtle as the fox for prey,
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat.
Our valour is to chase what flies: our cage
We make a choir, as doth the prison'd bird,
And sing our bondage freely.

Bel. How you speak!

Did you but know the city's usuries,

And felt them knowingly; the art o' th' court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb,
Is certain falling; or so slipp'ry, that

The fear's as bad as falling; the toil of war;
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I' th' name of fame and honour; which dies i' th'
search,

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And hath as oft a sland'rous epitaph,

As record of fair act; nay, many times
Doth ill deserve, by doing well: what's worse
Must curt'sy at the censure.-Oh, boys, this story
The world might read in me: my body's mark'd
With Roman swords; and my report was once
First with the best of note, Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree,

Whose boughs did bend with fruit. But, in one night,

you

A storm, or robbery, call it what
will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves
And left me bare to weather.

Guid. Uncertain favour!

Bel. My fault being nothing, as I have told

oft,

you

But that two villains (whose false oaths prevail'd

Before my perfect honour) swore to Cymbeline
I was confed'rate with the Romans: so
Follow'd my banishment; and, thes twenty years,
This rock and these demesnes have been my world;
Where I have liv'd at honest freedom; paid
More pions debts to Heaven, than in all

The fore end of my time.-But, up to the moun

tains!

This is not hunters' language; he that strikes
The venison first, shall be the lord o' th' feast;
To him the other two shall minister,

And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state.

I'll meet you in the vallies.

SHAKESPEARE.

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BOOK VII.

DESCRIPTIVE PIECES..

DEAR

CHA P. I.

Sensibility

EAR Sensibility! source inexhausted of all that's precious in our joys, or costly in our sorrows; thou chainest the martyr down upon his bed of straw, and it is thou who liftest him up to heaven. Eternal fountain of our feelings! It is here I trace thee, and this is thy divinity which stirs within me : not, that in some sad and sickening moments, my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at destruction' --mere pomp of words!--but that I feel some generous joys and generous cares beyond myself --all comes from thee, great, great Sensoriam of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our head but falls upon the ground, in the remotest desert of thy creation. Touched with thee Eugenius draws my curtain when I languish! hears my tale of symptoms, and blames the weather for the disorder of his nerves. Thou givest a portion of it sometimes to the roughest peasant who traverses the bleakest mountains. --He finds the lacerated lamb of another's flock. This moment I beheld him leaning with his head against his crook, with piteous inclination looking down upon it,--Oh! had I come one moment sooner!--it bleeds to death--his gentle heart bleeds with it.

Peace to thee generous, swain ! I see thou

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walkest off with anguish--but thy joys shall balance it; for happy is thy cottage, and happy is the sharer of it, and happy are the lambs which sport about you.

CHA P. II.

Liberty and Slavery.

DISGUISE

STERNE

ISGUISE thyself as thou wilt, still, Slavery! still thou art a bitter draught; and though thousands in all ages have been made to drink of the, thou art no less bitter on that account. It is thou, Liberty, thrice sweet and gracious goddess, whom all in public or in private worship, whose taste is grateful, and ever will be so, till nature herself shall change--no tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle, or chymic power turn thy sceptre into iron--with thee to smile upon him as he eats his crust, the swain is happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. Gracious Heaven! grant me but health, thou great Bestower of it, and give me but this fair goddess as my companion; and shower down thy mitres if it seems good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are aching for them-

Pursuing these ideas, I sat down close by my table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I began to figure to myself the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, and so I gave full scope to my imagination.

I was going to begin with the millions of my fellow-creatures born to no inheritance but Slavery; but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring it nearer ine, and that the multitude of sad groups , did but distract me-

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