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they do; and even if we do not, what harm will it do them? The people
object, indeed! Why? Plautus himself would never have attained the
comicality of such an idea. A philosopher would be jesting if he advised
the poor devil of the masses to cry out against the size and weight of
the lords. Just as well might the gnat dispute with the foot of an
elephant. One day I saw a hippopotamus tread upon a molehill; he crushed
it utterly. He was innocent. The great soft-headed fool of a mastodon
did not even know of the existence of moles. My son, the moles that are
trodden on are the human race. To crush is a law. And do you think that
the mole himself crushes nothing? Why, it is the mastodon of the
fleshworm, who is the mastodon of the globeworm. But let us cease
arguing. My boy, there are coaches in the world; my lord is inside, the
people under the wheels; the philosopher gets out of the way. Stand
aside, and let them pass. As to myself, I love lords, and shun them. I
lived with one; the beauty of my recollections suffices me. I remember
his country house, like a glory in a cloud. My dreams are all
retrospective. Nothing could be more admirable than Marmaduke Lodge in
grandeur, beautiful symmetry, rich avenues, and the ornaments and
surroundings of the edifice. The houses, country seats, and palaces of
the lords present a selection of all that is greatest and most
magnificent in this flourishing kingdom. I love our lords. I thank them
for being opulent, powerful, and prosperous. I myself am clothed in
shadow, and I look with interest upon the shred of heavenly blue which
is called a lord. You enter Marmaduke Lodge by an exceedingly spacious
courtyard, which forms an oblong square, divided into eight spaces, each
surrounded by a balustrade; on each side is a wide approach, and a
superb hexagonal fountain plays in the midst; this fountain is formed of
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