L'Jpe Italiana.^No. XXII. 



518 



would not »Q far intrencii upon etiquette 

 iis to admit the surgeon to the cousull- 

 atiou. lie therefore drew back a yard 

 or more out of the line of the faculty, 

 while they inspected tlie nature of ti)e 

 bite. The bitten piiysician had no more 

 right to give his own opinion of it than 

 a child, and he must only state the de- 

 gree of pain, and the peculiar sensa- 

 tions that he felt. Now came w^ turn, 

 and they approached me sorae\\hat 

 cautiously. 



After the usual diplomatic theories 

 had been canvassed, tliey concluded 

 upon reducing some portion of them 

 to practice ; but what arguments, wliat 

 an array of precedents and cases, what 

 reflections upon their rivals and one 

 another, before they could agree as to 

 the mode in which it should be done. 

 At length the question was put — (hey 

 must decide upon something. But was 

 it spontaneous hydrophobia? — yes — was 

 it only common madness? — yes. — "/^/(, 

 indeed — look, so— it ?*," — tliey all ex- 

 claimed together— a fine case — an un- 

 common case — and one tliat I have 

 long wished to see. In this, however, 

 my first physician did not join — he pro- 

 posed bleeding to diminish the excess 

 and avert the danger of inflammation. 

 Bleeding ! — exclaimed another ; surely 

 not to diminish, it will increase the 

 ciroilation, and of course carry a 

 greater portion of tlie virus into the 

 blood. — Come tlien, let us try opium, 

 it will calm and stupifyhim at least. — 

 No, no, it will excite, volatilize, and 

 rouse him, depend upon it. Ah ! then 

 blister and dose him with cathartics. 

 IMr. Apothecary, we leave this to your 

 care. 



This was an nnlucky prescription 

 for me. In two days I became more 

 patient and resigned tii:in .Job. Devils, 

 Idue, white, and grey, faded from my 

 imagination, the literary woi-ld seemed 

 receding liefore my eyes, and I became 

 fully aware that I Avas fast approaching 



" That bourne from whence no traveller 

 returns ;" 

 in other words " the end of the world." 

 was come for me. I was at last about 

 to be undeceived ; yet though I had 

 suRered so much wretchedness and dis- 

 appointment, and often secretly wished, 

 and openly prayed for death, I began 

 to feel an nuaceouutable reluctance 

 about going — it was too late Ijowever, 

 and I composed myself as Mell as I 

 CDuld. I endeiivouied to he serious, 

 l>ut could not help reflecting on the 

 partiality shewn by nature, in granting 



[July 1, 



such long life-leases tu geese and ra- 

 vens, and such short ones to the Ivords 

 of the creation, and prepared myself in 

 rather a sulky humour, but as fast as 

 my weakness permitted, to make my 

 will. 



Imprimis — 1 will and bequeath to our 

 gentle public my pen aud iuk. — Item — The 

 proceeds of my last satirical work. 



Item. My other inedited as well as pub- 

 lished works to be presented to one out of 

 the 900 public libraries in favour of which it 

 shall so be decided by lot. 



Item. My sketches of works and un- 

 finished pieces, annotations, collated edi- 

 tions, &c. &c. to such of my literary friends 

 as shall appear most disposed to finish 

 them. 



Item. I leave the sum of to any 



sculptor or engraver, who shall be fo\uid 

 to have executed my bust or portrait dur- 

 ing my life — and moreover leave the same 

 sum for an inscription to be placed upon my 

 tomb. Surmounting the inscription must 

 appear an emblem of future glory — an eagle 

 rising from a funeral pyre, and at its feet 

 a serpent with a sprig of hellebore in its 

 mouth, the signification of which maybe 

 left to thejudgment of future heraldists and 

 antiquai'ians. 



The inscription to run as follows : — 



llli uni 



Undique ex orbe 



Admiratione conlata 



Dedicavei'unt 



Summi rci litterarise 



Optimates 



Quorum Nomina 



Hie inscripla Sunt. 



With which I recommend there should 

 be inserted individually the names of my 

 collateral relations, friends and brethren 

 iu literature. 



Thus every thing will be decently con- 

 cluded — for as soon as I have once departed 

 this life, I shall consider the whole world 

 as fairly at an end. 



In tliese specimens of the lighter 

 ,style of Borsa, we can give but a faint 

 idea of the character and powers of the 

 \vriter. We consider him a much bet- 

 ter critic aud philosopher than a poet. 

 The sixth and last volume of his works 

 contains two tragedies, entitled " Aga- 

 memnon and Clitemnestra,'" "Aufia, 

 Daughter of Aiistodemo," Sic. &c. The 

 first bears strong traces of juvenile 

 composition ; and the somewhat arbi- 

 trary mode in which the events and in- 

 cidents are developed, with the intricacy 

 of the plot, fails to interest the feelings, 

 and give proper life and action to the 



Eiece. The second is far superior, 

 oth in point of skill and a sustained 

 ))ower of language well adapted to 

 tragedy; 



