It is with emotion and good wishes that I witness the kiss of two fair
friends, or the embracing of two virtuous lovers; and from the fire of
their altar sparks fly over to me; but what is this to our sympathetic
exaltation when we see two mortals, bending under the same burden,
bound to the same duties, animated to the same care for the same little
darlings, fall on one another's overflowing hearts, in some fair hour?
And if these, moreover, are two mortals who already wear the mourning
weeds of life, I mean old age, whose hair and cheeks are now grown
colorless, and eyes grown dim, and whose faces a thousand thorns have
marred into images of Sorrow;--when these two clasp each other with
such wearied, aged arms, and so near to the precipice of the grave, and
when they say or think: "All in us is dead, but not our love--O we have
lived and suffered long together, and now we will hold out our hands to
Death together also, and let him carry us away together,"--does not all
within us cry: O Love, thy spark is superior to Time; it burns neither
in joy nor in the cheek of roses; it dies not, neither under a
thousand tears nor under the snow of old age, nor under the ashes of
thy--beloved. It never dies; and Thou, All-good! if there were no
eternal love, there were no love at all....
To the Parson it was easier than it is to me to pave for himself a
transition from the heart to the digestive faculty. He now submitted to
Thiennette (whose voice at once grew cheerful, while her eyes time
after time began to sparkle) his purpose to take advantage of the
frosty weather and have the winter meat slaughtered and salted. "The
pig can scarcely rise," said he; and forthwith he fixed the
determination of the women, further the butcher, and the day, and all
_et ceteras_; appointing everything with a degree of punctuality,
such as the war-college (when it applies the cupping-glass, the
battle-sword, to the overfull system of mankind) exhibits on the
previous day, in its arrangements, before it drives a province into the
baiting-ring and slaughter-house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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