«A Predicament. The scythe of time» in inglese

What chance, good lady, hath bereft you thus? — COMUS.

It was a quiet and still afternoon when I strolled forth in the goodlycity of Edina. The confusion and bustle in the streets were terrible. Menwere talking. Women were screaming. Children were choking. Pigs werewhistling. Carts they rattled. Bulls they bellowed. Cows they lowed.Horses they neighed. Cats they caterwauled. Dogs they danced. Danced!Could it then be possible? Danced! Alas, thought I, my dancing days areover! Thus it is ever. What a host of gloomy recollections will ever andanon be awakened in the mind of genius and imaginative contemplation,especially of a genius doomed to the everlasting, and eternal, andcontinual, and, as one might say, the — continued — yes, thecontinued and continuous, bitter, harassing, disturbing, and, if I may beallowed the expression, the very disturbing influence of the serene, andgodlike, and heavenly, and exalted, and elevated, and purifying effect ofwhat may be rightly termed the most enviable, the most truly enviable — nay!the most benignly beautiful, the most deliciously ethereal, and, as itwere, the most pretty (if I may use so bold an expression) thing (pardonme, gentle reader!) in the world — but I am always led away by myfeelings. In such a mind, I repeat, what a host of recollections arestirred up by a trifle! The dogs danced! I — I could not! They frisked — Iwept. They capered — I sobbed aloud. Touching circumstances! whichcannot fail to bring to the recollection of the classical reader thatexquisite passage in relation to the fitness of things, which is to befound in the commencement of the third volume of that admirable andvenerable Chinese novel the Jo-Go-Slow.

In my solitary walk through, the city I had two humble but faithfulcompanions. Diana, my poodle! sweetest of creatures! She had a quantity ofhair over her one eye, and a blue ribbon tied fashionably around herneck. Diana was not more than five inches in height, but her head wassomewhat bigger than her body, and her tail being cut off exceedinglyclose, gave an air of injured innocence to the interesting animal whichrendered her a favorite with all.

And Pompey, my negro! — sweet Pompey! how shall I ever forget thee? Ihad taken Pompey's arm. He was three feet in height (I like to beparticular) and about seventy, or perhaps eighty, years of age. He hadbow-legs and was corpulent. His mouth should not be called small, nor hisears short. His teeth, however, were like pearl, and his large full eyeswere deliciously white. Nature had endowed him with no neck, and hadplaced his ankles (as usual with that race) in the middle of the upperportion of the feet. He was clad with a striking simplicity. His solegarments were a stock of nine inches in height, and a nearly-newdrab overcoat which had formerly been in the service of the tall, stately,and illustrious Dr. Moneypenny. It was a good overcoat. It was well cut.It was well made. The coat was nearly new. Pompey held it up out of thedirt with both hands.