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 thing of these things ; but ray wife shall have a picture. Item. A large hat would serve to shadow your eyes ; and there should be no light till we come down to the point of your nose, which would be the only sharp in the picture. No- thing but brownness and darkness every where else. Pray you, sit down here, and try on this great hat. Trader. Nay, by your leave, I will look at these pictures on the wall first. What is this? Rem. It is a Turk whom I have seen in the streets of Amsterdam. I like to paint a good beard ; and you see how angrily this man's beard is twisted. Trader. A stout Pagan, and a good fighter, I warrant you. I feel as if I could fetch him a cut over the crown ; for my ship was once near being run down by an Algerine. Rem. Look at the next. "Tis the inside of a farmer's kitchen. Trader. Nay, I could have told you that myself; for these pails of milk might be drunk ; and there is an old grandam twirling her spindle. When next I go to live at my brother Lucas's farm, I shall persuade him to buy this picture. It shews the fat and plen- teous life which he lives, when I am sailing the salt seas. Rem. Here is a sea-piece. Trader. Why, that is good also ; but this sail should have been lashed to the binnacle; for, d'ye see, when a vessel is spooning against a swell, she pitches, and it is necessary to Rem. You are right ; I must have it altered. How does this landscape please you ? Trader. Why, it is a good flat country ; but exhibits none of those great rocks which I have seen in fo- reign parts. I have seen burning mountains, which would have made the brush drop from your hand. I have sailed round the world, and seen the waves rising to the height of Haer- lem steeple, and nothing but canni- bals on shore to make signals to. Rem. Well and which of the pic- tures will you have ? you shall have your choice of them for forty ducats. Trader. Nay, now you are joking. Who will give you forty ducats? When at dinner with the burgo-mas- ter lately, I heard a collector putting prices on your works. He said, if we would wait, your market would cer- tainly fall, for you had too many on hand. Rem. My market shall not fall. I will see this collector at the bottom of the ocean first. But come now, let us be reasonable together. I will paint your portrait for thirty. Take your seat. Trader. Not so fast. My wife must be conferred with, and, if she approves, perhaps I may come back. Mean- while, good morning. (Exit.) Rem. A curse on these picture- dealing babblers. How shall I be re- venged on them ? My pictures ,are as good as the oldest extant, and, if I were dead, every piece would sell for as much gold as would cover it. But I see what must be done. Come hither, wife, and receive a commission. Go straight to the joiners, and order him to prepare for my funeral. Rembrandt's Wife. What is the meaning of this ? Are your wits turn- ed? Rem. My wits are turned towards money-making. I must counterfeit myself dead, to raise the price of my works, which will be valued as jewels, when there is no expectation of any more. Wife. Now I perceive your drift. Was there ever such a contrivance ! You mean to conceal yourself, and have a mock funeral ? * Rem. Yes ; and when my walls are unloaded I shall appear again. So that after the picture dealers have been brought to canonize me for a dead painter, and when they have fairly ventured out their praise and their money, they shall see me come and lay my hands upon both. Wife. How will it be possible for me to cry sufficiently, when there is no real death ? Rem. Make good use of the present occasion to perfect yourself in your part, for you may one day have to re- peat it.

ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE. " A voice of weeping heard, and loud la- ment." MILTON. . MARKED ye theminglingof the City'sthrong, Each mien, each glance, with expectation bright ?
 * This was a fact. See Rembrandt's Life.