When guilty mortals break th’ eternal laws,
Or judges, bribed, betray the righteous cause;
From their deep beds he bids the rivers rise,
And opens all the floodgates of the skies:
Th’ impetuous torrents from their hills obey,
Whole fields are drowned, and mountains swept away;
Loud roars the deluge till it meets the main,
And trembling man sees all his labours vain.
Weather permitting we painted, and as our days much repeated each other, I shall not attempt to follow them regularly, but make desultory remarks upon such things as struck me. One day we went to a neighbouring market, Souk-es-Sebt; Saturday’s market. Unlike Souk-el-Jemāa, this is held at the top of a bare mountain. In clear weather this point must command a magnificent view; it was very fine with the Jurjura wreathed in clouds. I have given an illustration of men at a market selling fig-cuttings.
Some in deep mould