haste! or thou wilt be undone forever. Shimei girdeth up his loins
and speedeth after him. Behold the hand which governs everything
takes the wheel from his chariot, so that he who driveth, driveth on
heavily. Shimei doubles his speed; but 'tis the contrary way: he flies
like the wind over a sandy desert.... Stay, Shimei! 'tis your patron,
your friend, your benefactor, the man who has saved you from the
dunghill. 'Tis all one to Shimei. Shimei is the barometer of every
man's fortune; marks the rise and fall of it, with all the variations
from scorching hot to freezing cold upon his countenance that the
simile will admit of.[1] Is a cloud upon thy affairs? See, it hangs
over Shimei's brow! Hast thou been spoken for to the king or the
captain of the host without success? Look not into the Court Calendar,
the vacancy is filled in Shimei's face. Art thou in debt, though
not to Shimei? No matter. The worst officer of the law shall not
be more insolent. What, then, Shimei, is the fault of poverty so
black? is it of so general concern that thou and all thy family must
rise up as one man to reproach it? When it lost everything, did it
lose the right to pity too? Or did he who maketh poor as well as
maketh rich strip it of its natural powers to mollify the heart and
supple the temper of your race? Trust me you have much to answer
for. It is this treatment which it has ever met with from spirits
like yours which has gradually taught the world to look upon it
as the greatest of evils, and shun it as the worst disgrace. And what
is it, I beseech you--what is it that men will not do to keep clear of
so sore an imputation and punishment? Is it not to fly from this
that he rises early, late takes rest, and eats the bread of carefulness?
that he plots, contrives, swears, lies, shuffles, puts on all shapes,
tries all garments, wears them with this or that side outward, just as
it may favour his escape?"