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Liamil, full of Joy, as having already been instructed, made no less Haste thither. But how was she surprised and mortified, when Zeokinizul, having ask'd her what she wanted, view'd her for some Time without speaking a Word more. Tho' she was prepared to act her Part, she could not forbear blushing, tho' more out of Spite than Bashfulness.
"You may be what you claim to be," insinuates the devil, "but are rustic." "Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent At home, scarce view'd the Galilean towns, And once a year Jerusalem." Experience and alliances are plausibly urged as indispensable for success.
'Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low; So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, View'd his own feather on the fatal dart, And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart; Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel He nursed the pinion which impell'd the steel, While the same plumage that had warm'd his nest, Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast,
"But on the British heart were lost The terrors of the charging host; For not an eye the storm that view'd Changed its proud glance of fortitude, Nor was one forward footstep staid, As dropp'd the dying and the dead.
Rustem, considerate, view'd him o'er and o'er, So wondrous graceful was the form he bore, And frankly said: "Experience flows with age, And many a foe has felt my conquering rage; Much have I seen, superior strength and art Have borne my spear thro' many a demon's heart; Only behold me on the battle plain, Wait till thou see'st this hand the war sustain, And if on thee should changeful fortune smile, Thou needst not fear the monster of the Nile!
Midst the Túránians, then, the Champion sped, And like a tiger heaped the fields with dead. But when the Monarch's danger struck his thought, Returning swift, the stripling youth he sought; Grieved to the soul, the mighty Champion view'd His hands and mail with Persian blood imbrued; And thus exclaimed with lion-voice "O say, Why with the Persians dost thou war to-day?
The Banks on the River being high, therefore we call'd it High-Land-Point. Having view'd that, we proceeded down the River, going on Shoar in several Places on both Sides, it being generally large Marshes, and many of them dry, that they may more fitly be call'd Meadows.
Mean time here we are however in Arno's Vale; the full moon shining over Fiesole, which I see from my windows. Milton's verses every moment in one's mouth, and Galileo's house twenty yards from one's door, Whence her bright orb the Tuscan artist view'd, At evening from the top of Fesole; Or in Val d'Arno to descry new lands, Rivers or mountains on her spotty globe.
In our Return, we view'd the Land on both Sides the River, and found as good Tracts of dry, well-wooded, pleasant, and delightful Ground, as we have seen any where in the World, with abundance of long thick Grass on it, the Land being very level, with steep Banks on both Sides the River, and in some Places very high, the Woods stor'd every where, with great Numbers of Deer and Turkies, we never going on Shoar, but we saw of each Sort; as also great Store of Partridges, Cranes, and Conies, in several Places; we likewise heard several Wolves howling in the Woods, and saw where they had torn a Deer in Pieces.
How they view'd and review'd us as we passed over the rivulet at the bottom of that little valley! and when we climbed over that hill, and were just getting out of sight good God! what a braying did they all set up together! Prithee, shepherd! who keeps all those Jack Asses?.... Heaven be their comforter What! are they never curried? Are they never taken in in winter? Bray bray bray.
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