this feeling
in the character of Macbeth, that Shakspeare has excited a momentary
interest even for a murderer and usurper, who perceives "his life fallen
into the sere and yellow leaf," and pauses for a moment in melancholy
reflection as he rushes to "die with harness on his back."

"Out, out, brief, candle," &c.

Having spent an hour among the sunny basking places which abound in the
rocks of this place, we hired a fishing-boat to convey us to the island
of St. Marguerite. It was impossible to help being diverted by the
uncouth appearance of our new conductors, which was two or three
degrees wilder than that of poor Murat's amphibious subjects: one fellow
in particular, was

"A man,
Cast in the roughest mould Dame Nature boasts,
With back much broader than a dripping pan,
And legs as thick about the calves as posts,"[53]

or indeed thicker, and tanned a bright copper colour by sun and salt
water; his broad face grinning with good humour, from beneath a mane as
shaggy as a lion's. It may be supposed that two or three such rowers,
proud of the new honour of officiating in a pleasure-boat, got us on
more quickly than the less athletic boatmen of show lakes, and we soon
landed at the small fort which was the object of our pursuit, and which
the commandant politely allowed us to explore. At its eastern extremity
is situated a guard-house, a chamber of which on the ground floor served
as the prison of the mysterious captive; it is airy and commodious
enough, in comparison with places of the sort in general; but the height
of its only window, strengthened by treble bars from the sea, and the
perpendicular cliff which it overhangs, with the dangerous breach under
it, are sufficient protections against any escape. For the last five
years no persons have been confined in this fort, which was formerly
used exclusively as a state prison, but in the Revolution its benefits
were extended to persons of all ranks. Restraint, indeed, is not at
present the order of the day within its precincts, to judge from
appearances. The soldiers seemed to have little or nothing to do, but to
flirt with two or three gaudily-dressed negresses, who showed their
white teeth and their black muzzles from the doors of the casernes, and
to laugh at the chaplain of the garrison, for such I conclude was the
grade of the old priest, who met us, toddling about in a state of
drunken fatuity, very much resembling the condition of Obad