But do the Gods smile upon his hated purpose? Does
he not rather act in opposition to their decrees, and in defiance of
their authority?"
The magician paused. "Alas," replied the shepherdess, "what is it you
mean? Whither would you lead me? I understand you not. These indeed were
motives for fortitude and exertion, but what consolation can they impart
to the desponding heart?" "I will tell you," replied her seducer,
folding her slender waist with one of his arms as he spoke. "Since the
Gods are on our side, since heaven and earth approve our honest
attachment, let us sit here and laugh at the tyrant. While he doubles
his guards, and employs all his vigilance, let us mock his impotent
efforts."
"Ah," replied the shepherdess, her eye moistened with despair, and
beaming with unapprehensiveness, "how strange and impracticable an
advice do you suggest! Full of terror, full of despair, you bid me laugh
at fear. Threatened by a tyrant whose power is irresistible, and whose
arts you yourself assure me are not to be evaded, you would have me mock
at those arts, and this dreaded power. Is not his power triumphant? Is
not all his vigilance crowned with a fatal success? Are we not his
miserable, trembling, death-expecting victims? Can we leave this
apartment, can we almost move our hand, or utter our voice, for
solicitude and terror? Oh Edwin, in what mould must that heart have been
cast, what must be its hard and unsusceptible texture, that can laugh at
sorrow, and be full of the sensations of joy, though surrounded with all
the engines of wretchedness?"
"Imogen, your fears are too great, your anxieties exaggerate the
indigence of our condition.
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