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The camels pass along under the palm trees; they are richly
laden with indigo and other treasures of value, sent by the ruler of the land to
him whose songs are the delight of the people, the fame of the country. He whom
envy and falsehood have driven into exile has been found, and the caravan
approaches the little town in which he has taken refuge. A poor corpse is
carried out of the town gate, and the funeral procession causes the caravan to
halt. The dead man is he whom they have been sent to seek- Firdusi- who has
wandered the Thorny road of honor even to the end.
The African, with
blunt features, thick lips, and woolly hair, sits on the marble steps of the
palace in the capital of Portugal, and begs. He is the submissive slave of
Camoens, and but for him, and for the copper coins thrown to him by the
passers-by, his master, the poet of the "Lusiad," would die of hunger. Now, a
costly monument marks the grave of Camoens. There is a new picture. Behind the
iron grating a man appears, pale as death, with long unkempt beard. "I have made
a discovery," he says, "the greatest that has been made for centuries; and they
have kept me locked up here for more than twenty years!" Who is the man? "A
madman," replies the keeper of the madhouse.
Behind the iron grating a
man appears, pale as death, with long unkempt beard. "I have made a discovery,"
he says, "the greatest that has been made for centuries; and they have kept me
locked up here for more than twenty years!" Who is the man? "A madman," replies
the keeper of the madhouse. "What whimsical ideas these lunatics have! He
imagines that one can propel things by means of steam." It is Solomon de Cares,
the discoverer of the power of steam, whose theory, expressed in dark words, is
not understood by Richelieu; and he dies in the madhouse.
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