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Scott, Walter, Sir, 1771-1832

"Waverley: or, 'Tis sixty years since"


The Baron, too--I would not have cared about his estate, and so the
name would have been no stumbling-block, The devil might have taken the
barren moors, and drawn off the royal CALIGAE, for anything I would have
minded. But, framed as she is for domestic affection and tenderness, for
giving and receiving all those kind and quiet attentions which sweeten
life to those who pass it together, she is sought by Fergus Mac-Ivor. He
will not use her ill, to be sure--of that he is incapable--but he will
neglect her after the first month; he will be too intent on subduing
some rival chieftain, or circumventing some favourite at court, on
gaining some heathy hill and lake, or adding to his bands some new troop
of caterans, to inquire what she does, or how she amuses herself.
And then will canker sorrow eat her bud,
And chase the native beauty from her cheek;
And she will look as hollow as a ghost,
And dim and meagre as an ague fit,
And so she'll die.
And such a catastrophe of the most gentle creature on earth might have
been prevented, if Mr. Edward Waverley had had his eyes! Upon my word,
I cannot understand how I thought Flora so much--that is, so very
much--handsomer than Rose.


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