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Dickens, Charles

"The Pickwick Papers"

Your health, sir. God save the king!"
'The prince remained to hear no more. He fled from the spot,
and plunged into the thickest recesses of a neighbouring wood.
On, on, he wandered, night and day; beneath the blazing sun, and
the cold pale moon; through the dry heat of noon, and the damp
cold of night; in the gray light of morn, and the red glare
of eve. So heedless was he of time or object, that being
bound for Athens, he wandered as far out of his way as Bath.
'There was no city where Bath stands, then. There was no
vestige of human habitation, or sign of man's resort, to bear the
name; but there was the same noble country, the same broad
expanse of hill and dale, the same beautiful channel stealing on,
far away, the same lofty mountains which, like the troubles of
life, viewed at a distance, and partially obscured by the bright
mist of its morning, lose their ruggedness and asperity, and seem
all ease and softness. Moved by the gentle beauty of the scene,
the prince sank upon the green turf, and bathed his swollen feet
in his tears.
'"Oh!" said the unhappy Bladud, clasping his hands, and
mournfully raising his eyes towards the sky, "would that my
wanderings might end here! Would that these grateful tears with
which I now mourn hope misplaced, and love despised, might
flow in peace for ever!"
'The wish was heard.


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