not he want to make it out that I was a descendant from the grand visir Ibrahim? Kaled. A sad misfortune truly! What harm could that do you? Is'nt it just as well to descend from Ibrahim as from any body else? Nebi. I know that well enough; but the priceKaled. Well, the price! Did I sell him you dear? Probably I gave a great deal for him. This happened long ago. I did not know my trade then as well as I do now. How could I imagine that those who cost me the most money, were the most good for nothing? Nebi. A fine reason, truly! Is that likely? Is it possible there can be a country where people are such fools? A rogue's excuse! a rogue's excuse! I don't wonder that some folks make fortunes! Kaled. A rogue's excuse! Make fortunes! Would not one suppose that it is all profit? What say you to the bad bargains that ruin me? Have they not a hundred trades that are quite incomprehensible? What do you think of my buying that German baron, whom I have never been able to get rid of, and who is still at home devouring my victuals! That rich Englishman, too, who was travelling to drive away the spleen, for whom I refused five hundred sequins, and who killed himself before my face, and tricked me out of my money! Is not this enough to make one's heart bleed? And the doctor, as he is called, do you imagine that I get any thing by him? At the last Tunis fair, was not I so stupid as to buy a lawyer and three parsons, whom I have never ventured to show in the market, and who are still in my house along with the German baron? Nebi. You cursed unbeliever, you wish to silence me by your clamour; but the cadi will do me justice. Kaled. I am not afraid of you; the cadi is a just and discerning man, who encourages commerce, and who knows very well that the slave trade is going to ruin, because these folks become worth less every day. Nebi. Once for all, will you take back your doctor? Kaled. No, by my faith, will I not. Nebi. Well, we will see that very soon. TO BE RESUMED. *A.* POEMS, BY THE REV. GEORGE CRABBE. A 131 TALES OF THE HALL, VOL. II. "AND now in quiet way they came to live And think what friends would make a morning call; went. Full well we know that many a favourite air, No. 41. CC OBJURGATORY STANZAS.'^* TO H. P. "And forsaking all others cleave only unto her.” GO, and visit the couch where a fond partner lies Than shall ever be wrung from thy soul again! In thy sternness of mood thou hast nurtured dislike, And wished-God forgive thee!-thy glances could be As the lightning which blasteth whate'er it may strike. Thy conscience will coil round thy heart like a snake, And above thy dark spirit thoughts fearfully rise, More burning and black than the billows that break On that horrible shore where "the worm never dies." As she grasps thy cold hand there will waken a pulse Which with audible throbbings thy sins will reprove: And when wild ghastly smiles, thy proud lip shall convulse, Her's will melt with affection, and tremble with love. For woman still smiles like an angel of light, O'er humanity's wide, weltering ocean of woes; And her truth and her tenderness dawn on the sight, Like green sunny islands of balm and repose. TO PHAON. CHARLES FEIST. IUPBRAID thee? Phaon, never! To this sad and broken heart. You first taught this heart to love thee of |