THE GUTRNAED G-EOUP. 161 



the most piteous imaginaUe, whether it find utterance 

 through the wicker bars of a starling's cage, or remain 

 pent up, to goad in voiceless woe the heart of the prince 



of falcons. The Marchese A 's caverned eagles 



formed no exception to this rule, but were, in fact, most 

 striking and touching examples of it ; immured in per- 

 petual gloom, remote from every endearing tie, and shut 

 up with birds of very different tastes and habits from 

 their own, they were sad and crestfallen, beyond their 

 wont. One, in particular, attracted our attention, as he 

 sat, the impersonation of melancholy, looking with a re- 

 proachful expression from uncongenial associates to an 

 impassive keeper, as if he would have asked, in the words 

 of Martial, ^Aquilas similes facere noctuis quseris?' ' Do 

 you hope to turn me into an owl by forcing me into the 

 society of owls ?' But as the question was not put, no 

 reply ensued, and the old man continued catering for the 

 assembly, whilst his drooping state-prisoner, glancing 

 despondiagly at his tethered talons, showed plainly that 

 the iron had entered into his soul. This forlorn high- 

 perched bird reproduced to our memory another scene of 

 kindred sadness : the arch of Septimius Severus rose un- 

 bidden to view, and there, all negligent of attire, drug- 

 ged in woe, and bending beneath a hopeless destiny, the 

 familiar forms of those melancholy, manacled kings, which 

 we had so often stolen out into the moonlit Forum to visit, 

 stood forth each in his high-perched nich; unscathed 

 wrecks of human grandeur, they exhibit to the most 

 thoughtless striking illustrations of the different deal- 

 ings of time ; displaying, after the lapse of many cen- 

 turies, the same clouded brow; and making the same 

 mute appeal to pity now, as when they were first put up, 

 amidst shouting pseans, the roar of the rabble, and pro- 

 cessions of insulting victors long since returned to dust : 



Tho' Scorn has ceased her taunt, and Joy long ceased to feel, 

 Grief yet survives to tell of woes that never heal. 



