all I know of the learning of the Haiks is their
translation of the Bible.'
'You have never read Z---?'
'No,' said I, 'I have never read Z---.'
'I have a plan,' said the Armenian; 'I think I can employ you agreeably
and profitably; I should like to see Z--- in an English dress; you shall
translate Z---. If you can read the Scriptures in Armenian, you can
translate Z---. He is our Esop, the most acute and clever of all our
moral writers--his philosophy--'
'I will have nothing to do with him,' said I.
'Wherefore?' said the Armenian.
'There is an old proverb,' said I, '"that a burnt child avoids the fire."
I have burnt my hands sufficiently with attempting to translate
philosophy, to make me cautious of venturing upon it again'; and then I
told the Armenian how I had been persuaded by the publisher to translate
his philosophy into German, and what sorry thanks I had received; 'And
who knows,' said I, 'but the attempt to translate Armenian philosophy
into English might be attended with yet more disagreeable consequences?'
The Armenian smiled. 'You will find me very different from the
publisher.'
'In many points I have no doubt I should,' I replied; 'but at the present
moment I feel like a bird which has escaped from a cage, and, though
hungry, feels no disposition to return. Of what nation is the dark man
below stairs, whom I saw writing at the desk?'
'He is a Moldave,' said the Armenian; 'the dog (and here his eyes
sparkled) deserves to be crucified, he is continually making mistakes.'
The Armenian again renewed his proposition about Z---, which I again
refused, as I felt but little inclination to place myself beneath the
jurisdiction of a person who was in the habit of cuffing those whom he
employed, when they made mistakes. I presently took my departure; not,
however, before I had received from the Armenian a pressing invitation to
call upon him whenever I should feel disposed.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
WHAT TO DO--STRONG ENOUGH--FAME AND PROFIT--ALLITERATIVE EUPHONY--A
PLAN--BAGNIGGE WELLS
Anxious thoughts frequently disturbed me at this time with respect to
what I was to do, and how support myself in the Great City. My future
prospects were gloomy enough, and I looked forward and feared; sometimes
I felt half disposed to accept the offer of the Armenian, and to commence
forthwith, under his superintendence, the translation of the Haik Esop;
but the remembrance of the cuffs which I h
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