Book VIII. the faid, if it was their fate to meet hereafter, he would thank him again and again; he told him, he was within a few hours of giving his enemies the flip for ever.-I hope not, anfwered Eugenius, with tears trickling down his cheeks, and with the tendereft tone that ever man fpoke, I hope not, Yorick, faid he.--Yorick replied, with a lock up, and gentle fqueeze of Eugenius's hand-and that was all, but it cut Eugenius to the heart.-Come, come, Yorick, quoth Eugenius, wiping his eyes, and fummoning up the man within him,-my dear lad, be comforted, let not all thy fpirits and fortitude forfake thee at this crisis, when thou most wanteft them ;--who knows what refources are in ftore, and what the power of God may yet do for thee?--Yorick laid his hand upon his heart, and gently fhook his head;-For my part, continued Eugenius, crying bitterly as he uttered the words,I declare I know not, Yorick, how to part with thee, and would gladly flater my hopes, added Eugenius, cheering up his voice, that there is till enough left of thee to make a bishop,→ and that I may live to fee it.-I beseech thee, Eugenius, quoth Yorick, taking off his night-cap as well as he could with his left hand his right being fill grafped close in that of Eugeniu, I beseech thee to take a view of my head.-I-fee nothing that ails it, replied Eugenius. Then, alas! my friend, faid Yorick, let me tell you, that it is fo bruifed and misshapened with the blows which have been fo unhandfemely given me in the dark, that I might fay with Sancho Pancha, that should I recover, and "mitres thereupon be fuffered to rain down from Heaven as thick as hail, not one of them would fit it." Yorick's laft breath was hanging upon his trembling lips ready to depart as he uttered this;- yet ftill ́it was uttered with fome. thing of a Cervantic tone; -and as he spoke it, Eugenius could perceive a ftream of lambent fire lighted up for a moment in his eyes;-faint picture of thofe flashes of his fpirit, fpirit, which (as Shakspeare faid of his anceftor) were wont to fet the table in a roar!* EUGENIUS was convinced from this, that the heart of his friend was broken; he fqueezed his hand, and then walked foftly out of the room, weeping as he waike!. Yorick followed Eugenius with his eyes to the door-he then clofed them, and never opened them more. HE lies buried in a corner of his churchyard, under a · plain marble flab, which his friend Eugenius, by leave of his executors, laid upon his grave, with no more than these three words of infcription; ferving both for his epitaph. and elegy: A'as! poor YORICK! Ten times a day has Yorick's ghoft the confolation to hear his monumental infcription read over with fuch a variety of plaintive tones, as denote a general pity and efteem for him: a foot-way croffing the churchyard clofe by his grave,-not a paffenger goes by without ftopping to casft å look on it,—and fighing, as he walks on, Alas! poor YORICK! CHAP. III. THE BEGGAR'S PETITION. PITY the forrows of a poor old man, STERNE. Whofe trembling limbs have borne him to your door, 'These tatter'd clothes my poverty bespeak, Has been the channel to a flood of tears. Yon house, erected on the rifing ground, O! take me to your hofpitable dome ; Should I reveal the fources of my grief, Heav'n fends misfortunes; why should we repine? Alittle farm was my paternal lct, Then like the lark I fprightly hail'd the morn; My daughter, once the comfort of my age, My tender wife, fweet foother of my Pity the forrows of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, CHAP. IV. ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF AN UNFORTU. NATE LADY. WHAT beck'ning ghost, along the moonlight shade And fep'rate from their kindred dregs below; So flew the foul to its congenial place, Nor left one virtue to redeem her race. But thou, falfe guardian of a charge too good, Thus fhall your wives, and thus your children fall: The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day! What can atone (O, ever-injur'd shade!) To midnight dances, and the public show: What |