_
--OLD BALLAD.
By and by less anxious talk soothed him. Indeed it was he who
suggested one last bright draught of air beneath his trees before
retiring. Down we went again with some unnecessary clatter. And here
were stars between the fruited boughs, silvery Capella and the Twins,
and low on the sky's moonlit border Venus excellently bright.
He asked me whither I proposed going, if I needs must go; besought
there and then in the ambrosial night-air the history of my
wanderings--a mere nine days' wonder; and told me how he himself much
feared and hated the sea.
He questioned me also with not a little subtilty (and double-dealing
too, I fancied,) regarding my own country, and of things present, and
things real. In fact nothing, I think, so much flattered his
vanity--unless it was my wonder at Dame Partlett's clucking on his
viol-strings--as to learn himself was famous even so far as to ages
yet unborn. He gazed on the simple moon with limpid, amiable eyes, and
caught my fingers in his.
How, then, could I even so much as hint to enquire which century
indeed was his, who had no need of any? How could I abash that kindly
vanity of his by adding also that, however famous, he must needs be to
all eternity--nameless?
We conversed long and earnestly in the coolness.
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