BEL. Now for our mountain sport, up to yond hill, Your legs are young. When you, above, perceive me like a crow, That it is place which leffens and sets off: And you may then revolve what tales I told you, Than is the full-wing'd eagle. Oh, this life Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine, GUID. Out of your proof you fpeak; we, poor, unfledg'd, Have never wing'd from view o' th' neft; nor know That have a sharper known; well corresponding ARV. What should we speak of, When we are old as you? When we shall hear M 3 Like Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat. BEL. How you speak! Did you but know the city's ufuries, And felt them knowingly; the art o' th' court, The fear's as bad as falling; the toil of war; I' th' name of fame and honour; which dies i' th' fearch, As record of fair act; nay, many time, Doth ill deferve, by doing well: what's worfe Whofe bows did bend with fruit. But, in one night, A ftorm, or robbery, call it what you will, Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves; GUID. Uncertain favour! BEL. My fault being nothing, as I have told you off, But that two villains (whofe falfe oaths prevail'd Before my perfect honour) fwore to Cymbeline, I was confed'rate with the Romans: fo Follow'd my banishment; and, these twenty years, This rock and thefe demefnes have been my world; Where Where I have liv'd at honest freedom; paid More pious debts to Heaven, than in all The fore-end of my time.-But, up to th' mountains! And we will fear no poifon, which attends I'll meet you in the valleys. M 4 SHAKSPEARE. BOOK BOOK VII DESCRIPTIVE PIECES. CHA P. I. SENSIBILITY. DEAR Senfibility! fource inexhaufted of all that's precious in our joys, or coftly in our forrows! thou chainest thy martyr down upon his bed of ftraw, and it is thou who lifteft him up to Heaven. Eternal Fountain of our feelings! It is here I trace thee, and this is thy divinity which firs within me: not, that in fome fad and fickening moments, my foul fhrinks back upon herself, and startles at deftruction'-mere pomp of words!—but that I feel fome generous joys and generous cares beyond myfelf-all comes from thee, great, great Senforium of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our head but falls upon the ground, in the remoteft defert of thy creation. Touched with thee, Eugenius draws my curtain when I languish; hears my tale of fymptoms, and blames the weather for the diforder of his nerves. Thou giveft a portion of it fome times to the roughest peafant who traverfes the bleakest mountains. He finds the lacerated lamb of another's flock. This moment I behold him leaning with his head against his crook, with piteous inclination looking down upon it.-Oh!, had I come one moment fooner!-it bleeds to death-his gentle heart bleeds with it. PEACE to thee, generous fwain! I fee thou walkeft 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 fport about you. STERNE. CHA P. II. LIBERTY AND SLAVERY. DISGUISE thyfelf as thou wilt, ftill SLAVERY! ftill thou art a bitter draught; and though thoufands in all ages have been made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account. It is thou, LIBERTY, thrice fweet and gracious goddess, whom all in public or in private worfhip, whofe tafte is grateful, and ever will be fo, till nature herself shall change-no tint of words can spot thy fnowy mantle, or chymic power turn thy fceptre into ironwith thee to fmile upon him as he eats his cruft, the swain is happier than his monarch, from whofe court thou art exiled. Gracious Heaven! grant me but health, thou great Beftower of it, and give me but this fair goddess as my coinpanion; and shower down thy mitres, if it seems good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are aching. for them.. PURSUING thefe ideas, I fat down close by my table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I began to figure to myself |