Page images

Should he attend you, with his skill profound, But where such friends in every care unite
You must be safe, and shortly would be sound.' All for his good, obedience is delight.

When men in health against physicians rail, Now Gwyn a sultan bade affairs adieu,
They should consider that their nerves may fail : Led and assisted by the faithful two;
Who calls a lawyer rogue, may find, too late, The favourite fair, Rebecca, near him sat,
On one of these depends his whole estate : And whisper'd whom to love, assist, or hate ;
Nay, when the world can nothing more produce, While the chief vizier eased his lord of cares,
The priest, th' insulied priest, may have his use ; And bore himself the burden of affairs :
Ease, health, and comfort lift a man so high, No dangers could from such alliance flow,
These powers are dwarfs that he can scarcely spy; But from that law that changes all below.
Pain, sickness, languor keep a man so low,

When wintry winds with leaves bestrew'd the That these neglected dwarfs to giants grow.

ground, Happy is he who through the medium sees And men were coughing all the village round; Of clear good sense--but Gwyn was not of these. When public papers of invasion told,

He heard, and he rejoiced : “Ah! let him come, Diseases, famines, perils new and old ; And till he fires, make my house his home.” When philosophic writers fail'd to clear Home came the doctor-he was much admired ; The mind of gloom, and lighter works to cheer : He told the patient what his case required; Then came fresh terrors on our hero's mind, His hours for sleep, his time to eat and drink; Fears unforeseen, and feelings undefined. When he should ride, read, rest, compose, or think. In outward ills," he cried, “I rest assured Thus join'd peculiar skill and art profound, Of my friend's aid ; they will in time be cured : To make the fancy-sick no more than fancy-sound. But can his art subdue, resist, control

With such attention who could long be ill ? These inward griefs and troubles of the soul ? Returning health proclaim'd the doctor's skill. 0! my Rebecca! my disordered mind, Presents and praises from a grateful heart No help in study, none in thought can find ; Were freely offered on the patient's part;

What must I do, Rebecca ?” She proposed In high repute the doctor seem'd to stand, The parish-guide ; but what could be disclosed Bat still had got no footing in the land ;

To a proud priest ?—“No! him have I defied,
And, as he saw the seat was rich and fair, Insulted, slighted, -shall he be my guide ?
He felt disposed to fix his station there :

But one there is, and if report be just,
To gain his purpose he perform'd the part A wise good man, whom I may safely trust :
Of a good actor, and prepared to start :

Who goes from house to house, from ear to ear, Not like a traveller in a day serene,

To make his truths, his gospel truths, appear; When the sun shone and when the roads were clean; True if indeed they be, 'tis time that I should hear: Not like the pilgrim, when the morning gray, Send for that man, and if report be just, The ruddy eve succeeding, sends his way; I, like Cornelius, will the teacher trust; But in a season when the sharp east wind But if deceiver, I the vile deceit Had all its influence on a nervous mind; Shall soon discover, and discharge the cheat.” When past the parlour's front it fiercely blew, To doctor Mollet was the grief confess'd, And Gwyn sat pitying every bird that flew, While Gwyn the freedom of his mind express'd; This strange physician said—“ Adieu ! adieu! Yet own'd it was to ills and errors prone, Farewell !--Heaven bless you !-if you should— And he for guilt and frailty must atone. but no,

My books, perhaps," the wavering mortal cried, Yoa need not fear-farewell! 'tis time to go." “ Like men deceive; I would be satisfied ;

The doctor spoke, and, as the patient heard, And to my soul the pious man may bring His old disorders (dreadful train !) appear'd; Comfort and light-do let me try the thing." ** He felt the lingling tremor, and the stress The cousins met, what pass'd with Gwyn was told: l'pon his nerves that he could not express ; “ Alas!" the doctor said, “ how hard to hold Should his good friend forsake him, he perhaps These easy minds, where all impressions made Might meet his death, and surely a relapse." At first sink deeply, and then quickly fade ; So, as the doctor seem'd intent to part,

For while so strong these new-born fancies reign, He cried in terror, “0! be where thou art : We must divert them, to oppose is vain : Come, thou art young, and unengaged; 0! come, You see him valiant now, he scorns to heed Make me thy friend, give comfort to mine home ; The bigot's threatenings, or the zealot's creed ; I have now symptoms that require thine aid, Shook by a dream, he next for truth receives Da, doctor, stay;"— th' obliging doctor stay’d. What frenzy teaches, and what fear believes ;

Thus Gwyn was happy; he had now a friend, And this will place him in the power of one And a meek spouse on whom he could depend : Whom we must seek, because we cannot shun." Bat now possess'd of male and female guide, Wisp had been ostler at a busy inn, Divided power he thus must subdivide :

Where he beheld and grew in dread of sin ; In earlier days he rode, or sat at ease

Then to a Baptists' meeting found his way, Reclined, and having but himself to please : Became a convert, and was taught to pray ; Now if he would a favourite nag bestride, Then preach'd; and being earnest and sincere, He sought permission : “ Doctor, may I ride ?” Brought other sinners to religious fear; (Rebecca's eye her sovereign pleasure told,) Together grew his influence and his fame, ** I think you may, but guarded from the cold, Till our dejected hero heard his name: Ride forty minutes.”—Free and happy soul ! His liule failings were, a grain of pride, He scorn'd submission, and a man's control; Raised by the numbers he presumed to guide ;

A love of presents, and of lofty praise

Thus sees a peasant with discernment nice, For his meek spirit and his humble ways ;

A love of power, conceit, and avarice. But though this spirit would on flattery feed, Lo! now the change complete: the convert No praise could blind him and no arts mislead :

Gwyn To him the doctor made the wishes known Has sold his books, and has renounced his sin; Of his good patron, but conceal’d his own; Mollet his body orders, Wisp his soul, He of all teachers had distrust and doubt,

And o'er his purse the lady takes control;
And was reserved in what he came about; No friends beside he needs, and none attend-
Though on a plain and simple message sent, Soul, body, and estate, has each a friend ;
He had a secret and a bold intent:

And fair Rebecca leads a virtuous life-
Their minds, at first were deeply veil'd ; disguise She rules a mistress, and she reigns a wise.
Form'd the slow speech, and oped the eager eyes ;
Till by degrees sufficient light was thrown
On every view, and all the business shown.
Wisp, as a skilful guide who led the blind,

Had powers to rule and awe the vapourish mind ;
But not the changeful will, the wavering fear to
bind :

And should his conscience give him leave to dwell

Heaven witness With Gwyn, and every rival power expel,

I have been to you ever true and humble. (A dubious point,) yet he, with every care,

Henry VIII. act iv. sc. 4. Might soon the lot of the rejected share ;

Gentle lady, And other Wisps he found like him to reign, When first I did impart my love to you, And then be thrown upon the world again.

I freely told you all the wealth I had. He thought it prudent then, and felt it just,

Merchant of Venice, act iii. sc. 2. The present guides of his new friend to trust;

The fatal time True, he conceived, to touch the harder heart Cuts off all ceremonies and vows of love, Of the cool doctor, was beyond his art;

And ainple interchange of sweet discourse,

Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon. But mild Rebecca he could surely sway,

Richard III, act v. sc. 3. While Gwyn would follow where she led the

I know thee not, old man; fall to thy prayers. way :

Henry IV. Part 2, act v. sc. 5. So to do good, (and why a duty shun,

Farewell Because rewarded for the good when done ?)

Thou pure impicty, thou impious purity, He with his friends would join in all they plann'd, For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love. Save when his faith or feelings should withstand;

Much Ado about Nothing, act iv. sc. 2 There he must rest, sole judge of his affairs, While they might rule exclusively in theirs. Love will expire, the gay, the happy dream

When Gwyn his message to the teacher sent, Will turn to scorn, indifference, or esteem: He fear'd his friends would show their discontent; Some favour'd pairs, in this exchange are bless'd And prudent seem'd it to th' attendant pair, Nor sigh for raptures in a state of rest; Not all at once to show an aspect fair :

Others, ill match’d, with minds unpair'd repent On Wisp they seem'd to look with jealous eye, At once the deed and know no more content; And fair Rebecca was demure and shy ;

From joy to anguish they, in haste, decline, But by degrees the teacher's worth they knew, And with their fondness, their esteem resign : And were so kind, they seem'd converted too. More luckless still their fate, who are the prey

Wisp took occasion to the nymph to say, Of long protracted hope and dull delay; “ You must be married : will you name the day?" 'Mid plans of bliss the heavy hours pass on, She smiled, —" "Tis well ; but should he not com- Till love is wither’d, and till joy is gone. ply,

This gentle flame two youthful hearts possess'd, Is it quite safe th' experiment to try ?”—

The sweet disturber of unenvied rest : My child," the teacher said, " who feels remorse, The prudent Dinah was the maid beloved, (And feels not he ?) must wish relief of course; And the kind Rupert was the swain approved : And can he find it, while he fears the crime ? A wealthy aunt her gentle niece sustain'd, You must be married ; will you name the time!" He, with a father, at his desk remain'd; Glad was the patron as a man could be,

The youthful couple, to their vows sincere, Yet marvellid too, to find his guides agree; Thus loved expectant; year succeding year, " But what the cause ?” he cried ; " 'tis genuine With pleasant views and hopes, but not a prospect

love for me."
Each found his part, and let one act describe Rupert some comfort in his station saw,
The powers and honours of th' accordant tribe : But the poor virgin lived in dread and awe;
A man for favour to the mansion speeds,

Upon her anxious looks the widow smiled,
And cons his threefold task as he proceeds ; And bade her wait, " for she was yet a child."
To teacher Wisp he bows with humble air, She for her neighbour had a due respect,
And begs his interest for a barn's repair:

Nor would his son encourage or reject; Then for the doctor he inquires, who loves And thus the pair, with expectations vain, To hear applause for what his skill improves, Beheld the seasons change, and change again : And gives for praise, assent,—and to the fair Meantime the nymph her lender tales perused, He brings of pullets a delicious pair;

Where cruel aunts impatient girls refused;


While hers, though teasing, boasted to be kind, Now the grave niece partook the widow's cares, And she, resenting, 10 be all resign'd.

Look'd to the great and ruled the small affairs ; The dame was sick, and when the youth applied Saw clean'd the plate, arranged the china show, For her consent, she groan'd, and cough'd and And felt her passion for a shilling grow: cried :

Th' indulgent aunt increased the maid's deligiit, Talk'd of departing, and again her breath By placing tokens of her wealth in sight; Drew hard, and cough d, and talk'd again of death : She loved the value of her bonds to tell, “ Here you may live, my Dinah! here the boy And spake of stocks, and how they rose and fell. And you together my estate enjoy ;"

This passion grew, and gain'd at length such Thus to the lovers was her mind expressid,

sway, Till they forebore to urge the fond request. That other passions shrank to make its way ;

Servant, and nurse, and comforter, and friend, Romantic notions now the heart forsook, Dinah had still some duty to attend ;

She read but seldom, and she changed her book ; But yet their walk, when Rupert's evening call And for the verses she was wont to send, Obtain d an hour, made sweet amends for all ; Short was her prose, and she was Rupert's friend. So long they now each other's thoughts had known, Seldom she wrote, and then the widow's cough, That nothing seem'd exclusively their own; And constant call, excused her breaking off; But with the common wish, the mutual fear, Who, now oppress'd, no longer took the air, They now had travell’d to their thirtieth year. But sate and dozed upon an easy chair.

At length a prospect opend ; but, alas ! The cautious doctor saw the case was clear, Long time must yet, before the union, pass ; But judged it best to have companions near; Rupert was call'd in other clime, t'increase They came, they reason'd, they prescribed-at last, Another's wealth, and toil for future peace ; Like honest men, they said their hopes were past; Loath were the lovers; but the aunt declared Then came a priest—'tis comfort to reflect, Twas fortune's call, and they must be prepared ; When all is over, there was no neglect; * You now are young, and for this brief delay, And all was over-by her husband's bones, And Dinah's care, what I bequeath will pay ;

The widow rests beneath the sculptured stones, All will be yours; nay, love, suppress that sigh ; That yet record their fondness and their fame, The kind must suffer, and the best must die :" While all they left the virgin's care became ; Then came the cough, and strong the signs it gave Stocks, bonds, and buildings ;-it disturbid her resh, Of holding long contention with the grave.

To think what load of troubles she possess'd : The lovers parted with a gloomy view,

Yet, is a trouble, she resolved to take And liule comfort but that both were true; Th' important duty, for the donor's sake ; He for uncertain duties doom'd to steer,

She too was heiress to the widow's taste, While hers remain’d too certain and severe. Her love of hoarding and her dread of waste. Letters arrived, and Rupert fairly told

Sometimes the past would on her mind intrude, “ His cares were many, and his hopes were cold; And then a conflict full of care ensued ; The view more clouded, that was never fair, The thoughts of Rupert on her mind would press, And love alone preserved him from despair :" His worth she knew, but doubted his success ; In other letters, brighter hopes he drew,

Of old she saw him heedless; what the boy " His friends were kind, and he believed them Forebore to save, the man would not enjoy ; true,"

Oft had he lost the chance that care would seize, When the sage widow Dinah's grief descried, Willing to live, but more to live at ease : She wonder'd much, why one so happy sigh'd : Yet could she not a broken vow defend, Then bade her see how her poor aunt sustain'd And Heaven, perhaps, might yet enrich her friend. The ills of life nor murmur'd nor complain'd. Month after month was pass'd, and all were To vary pleasures, from the lady's chest

spent Were drawn the pearly string and tabby vest; In quiet comfort and in rich content: Beads, jewels, laces, all their value shown, Miseries there were, and woes the world around, With the kind notice,-—" They will be your own." But these had not her pleasant dwelling found:

This hope, these comforts, cherish'd day by day, She knew that mothers grieved, and widows wept, To Dinah's bosom made a gradual way;

And she was sorry, said her prayers, and slept : Till love of treasure had as large a part,

Thus pass'd the seasons, and to Dinah's board As love of Rupert, in the virgin's heart.

Gave what the seasons to the rich afford; Whether it be that tender passions fail,

For she indulged, nor was her heart so small, From their own nature, while the strong prevail ; That one strong passion should engross it all. Or whether avarice, like the poison tree,*

A love of splendour now with avarice strove, Kills all beside it, and alone will be ;

And oft appeared to be the stronger love: Whatever cause prevail'd, the pleasure grew A secret pleasure fill'd the widow's breast, In Dinah's soul, she loved the hoards to view; When she reflected on the hoards possess'd ; With lively joy those comforts she survey'd, But livelier joy inspired th' ambitious maid, And love grew languid in the careful maid. When she the purchase of those hoards display'd :

In small but splendid room she loved to see

That all was placed in view and harmony; Allusion is here made, not to the well known species

There, as with eager glance she look'd around, of rumach, called the poison-oak, or to ricodendron, but she much delight in every object found; to the upas, or poison tree of Java : whether it be real While books devout were near her to destroy, or imaginary, this is no proper place for inquiry. Should it arise, an overflow of joy.

Within that sair apartment, guests might see We parted bless'd with health, and I am now The comforts cull'd for wealth by vanity :

Age-struck and feeble, so I find art thou ; Around the room an Indian paper blazed,

Thine eye is sunken, furrow'd is thy face, With lively tint and figures boldly raised : And downward look'st thon—so we run our race: Silky and soft upon the floor below,

And happier they, whose race is nearly run, Th' elastic carpet rose with crimson glow, Their troubles over, and their duties done." All things around implied both cost and care, • True, lady, true, we are not girl and buy ; What met the eye was elegant or rare :

But time has left us something to enjoy.”. Some curious trifles round the room were laid, “ What! thou hast learn'd my fortune ?-yes, I By hope presented to the wealthy maid ;

live Within a costly case of varnish'd wood,

To feel how poor the comforts wealth can give; In level rows her polish'd volumes stood ;

Thou too, perhaps, art wealthy; but our fate Shown as a favour to a chosen few,

Still mocks our wishes, wealth is come too late." To prove what beauty for a book could do :

"To me nor late nor early; I am come A silver urn with curious work was fraught; Poor as I left thee to my native home : A silver lamp from Grecian pattern wrought: Nor yet,” said Rupert, “ will I grieve; 'tis mine Above her head, all gorgeous to behold,

To share thy comforts, and the glory thine ; A time-piece stood on feet of burnish'd gold ; For thou wilt gladly take that generous part A stag's head crest adorn'd the pictured case, That both exalts and gratifies the heart; Through the pure crystal shone th' enamell’d face: While mine rejoices."_" Heavens !" return'd the And while on brilliants moved the hands of steel,

It click'd from prayer to prayer, from meal to meal. “ This talk to one so wither'd and decay'd ?
Here as the lady sate, a friendly pair

No! all my care is now to fit my mind
Stept in t' admire the view, and took their chair: For other spousal, and to die resignd:
They then related how the young and gay As friend and neighbour, I shall hope to see
Were thoughtless wandering in the broad highway; These noble views, this pious love in thee;
How tender damsels sail'd in tilted boats,

That we together may the change await,
And laugh'd with wicked men in scarlet coats ; Guides and spectators in each other's faie;
And how we live in such degenerate times, When fellow pilgrims, we shall daily crave
That men conceal their wants and show their The mutual prayer that arms us for the grave.”
crimes ;

Half angry, half in doubt, the lover gazed While vicious deeds are screen’d by fashion's name, On the meek maiden, by her speech amazed : And what was once our pride is now our shame. Dinah,” said he, “ dost thou respect thy vows?

Dinah was musing, as her friends discoursed, What spousal mean'st thou?—thou art Rupert's When these last words a sudden entrance forced

spouse ; Upon her mind, and what was once her pride The chance is mine to take, and thine to give; And now her shame, some painful views supplied ; But, trifling this, if we together live: Thoughts of the past within her bosom press'd, Can I believe, that, after all the past, And there a change was felt, and was confessid : Our vows, our loves, thou wilt be false at last? While thus the virgin strove with secret pain, Something thou hast-I know not whal-in view Her mind was wandering o'er the troubled main; I find thee pious—let me find thee true." Still she was silent, nothing seem'd to see,

"Ah! cruel this; but do, my friend, depart, But sate and sigh'd in pensive revery.

And to its feelings leave my wounded heart." The friends prepared new subjects to begin, “ Nay, speak at once; and, Dinah, let me know, When tall Susannah, maiden arch, stalk'd in; Mean'st thou to take me, now I'm wreck'd, in Not in her ancient mode, sedate and slow,

tow? As when she came, the mind she knew, to know; Be fair; nor longer keep me in the dark ; Nor as, when listening half an hour before, Am I forsaken for a trimmer spark? She twice or thrice tapp'd gently at the door; Heaven's spouse thou art not ; nor can I believe But, all derorum cast in wrath aside,

That God accepts her who will man deceive: “I think the devil's in the man!" she cried ; True I am shatter'd, I have service seen, “A huge tall sailor, with his tawny cheek, And service done, and have in trouble been ; And pitted face, will with my lady speak; My cheek (it shames me not) has lost its red, He grinn'd an ugly smile, and said he knew, And the brown buff is o'er my features spread; Please you, my lady, 'twould be joy to you; Perchance my speech is rude; for I among What must I answer?"_Trembling and distress'd | Th' untamed have been, in temper and in tongue ; Sank the pale Dinah, by her fears oppress'd ; IIave been trepann'd, have lived in toil and care, When thus alarm'd, and brooking no delay, And wrought for wealth I was not doom'd to share ; Swift to her room the stranger made his way. It touch'd me deeply, for I felt a pride " Revive, my love!" said he, "I've done thee In gaining riches for my destined bride : harm,

Speak then my fate ; for these my sorrows past, Give me thy pardon," and he look'd alarm : Time lost, youth fled, hope wearied, and at last Meantime the prudent Dinah had contrived This doubt of thee-a childish thing to tell, Her soul to question, and she then revived. Bui certain truth-my very throat they swell; " See! my good friend,” and then she raised her They stop the breath, and but for shame could I head,

Give way to weakness, and with passion cry ; “ The bloom of life, the strength of youth is fled; These are unmanly struggles, but I feel Living we die; to us the world is dead;

This hour must end them, and perhaps will heal."

Here Dinah sigh'd as if afraid to speak-
And then repeated—“ They were frail and weak;

His soul she loved, and hoped he had the grace

To fix his thoughts upon a better place."
She ceased ;-with steady glance, as if to see

It were all one,
The very root of this hypocrisy,–

That I should love a bright peculiar star,
He her small fingers moulded in his hard

And think to wed it; she is so much above me:
And bronzed broad hand ; then told her his regard, In her bright radiance and collateral heat
His best respect were gone, but love had still Must I be comforted, not in her sphere.
Hold in his heart, and govern'd yet the will-

All's Well that Ends Well, act i. sc. I. Or he would curse her:-saying this, he threw

Poor wretches, that depend The hand in scorn away, and bade adieu

On greatness' favours, dream as I bave done,To every lingering hope, with every care in view.

Wake and find nothing.

Cymbeline, act v. sc. 4. Proud and indignant, suffering, sick, and poor, He grieved unseen; and spoke of love no more

And since Till all he felt in indignation died,

Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which

I fear a inadness held me. As hers had sunk in avarice and pride.

Tempest, áct v. In health declining, as in mind distress'd, To some in power his troubles he confess'd, A BOROUGH BAILIFF, who to law was train'd, And shares a parish-gist;-at prayers he sees A wife and sons in decent state maintain'd ; The pious Dinah dropp'd upon her knees; He had his way in life's rough ocean steer'd, Thence as she walks the street with stately air, And many a rock and coast of danger clear'd; As chance directs, oft meet the parted pair: He saw where others fail'd, and care had he When he, with thickset coat of badge-man's blue, Others in him should not such failings see; Mores near her shaded silk of changeful hue ; His sons in various busy states were placed, When his thin locks of gray approach her braid, And all began the sweets of gain to taste, A costly purchase made in beauty's aid;

Save John, the younger ; who, of sprightly parts, When his frank air, and his unstudied pace, Felt not a love for money-making aris : Are seen with her soft manner, air, and grace, In childhood feeble, he, for country air, And his plain artless look with her sharp meaning Had long resided with a rustic pair ; face;

All round whose room were doleful ballads, songs, It might some wonder in a stranger move, Of lovers' sufferings and of ladies' wrongs, How these together could have talk'd of love. of peevish ghosts who came at dark midnight, Behold them now !see there a tradesman stands, For breach of promise, guilty men to fright; And humbly hearkens to some fresh commands; Love, marriage, murder, were the themes, with He moves to speak, she interrupts him—“Stay,”

these, Her air expresses—“ Hark! to what I say :" All that on idle, ardent spirits seize ; Ten paces off, poor Rupert on a seat

Robbers at land and pirates on the main, Has taken refuge from the noonday heat,

Enchanters foil'd, spells broken, giants slain ; His eyes on her intent, as if to find

Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers, What were the movements of that subtle mind: Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice flowers, How sull! how earnest is he !--it appears And all the hungry mind without a choice devours. His thoughts are wandering through his earlier From village children kept apart by pride, years ;

With such enjoyments, and without a guide, Through years of fruitless labour, to the day Inspired by feelings all such works infused, When all his earthly prospects died away : John snatch'd a pen, and wrote as he perused : "Had I," he thinks, “ been wealthier of the two, With the like fancy he could make his knight Would she have found me so unkind, untrue ? Slay half a host and put the rest to flight; Or knows not man when poor, what man when With the like knowledge, he could make him ride rich will do?

From isle to isle at Parthenissa's side;
Yes, yes! I feel that I had faithful proved, And with a heart yet free, no busy brain
And should have soothed and raised her, bless' Forn'd wilder notions of delight and pain,
and loved."

The raptures smiles create, the anguish of disdain
But Dinah moves—she had observed before Such were the fruits of John's poetic toil,
The pensive Rupert at an humble door :

Weeds, but still proofs of vigour in the soil : Some thoughts of pity raised by his distress, He nothing purposed but with vast delight, Some feeling touch of ancient tenderness; Let Fancy loose, and wonder'd at her flight: Religion, duty urged the maid to speak

His notions of poetic worth were high, In terms of kindness to a man so weak:

And of his own still hoarded poetry ;But pride forbad, and to return would prove These to his father's house he bore with pride, She felt the shame of his neglected love ; A miser's treasure, in his room to hide ; Nor rapt in silence could she pass, afraid

Till spurr'd by glory, to a reading friend Each eye should see her, and each heart up He kindly show'd the sonnets he had penn'd: braid;

With erring judgment, though with heart sincere, One way remain'd—the way the Levite took, That friend exclaim'd, “ These beauties must apWho without mercy could on misery look:

pear." (A way perceived by craft, approved by pride) In magazines they claim'd their share of fame, She cross'd, and pass'd him on the other side. Though undistinguish'd by their author's name;

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »