course, when I come to speak of their other grievances. For the present
let it suffice to have shown that this excuse for the sale of one's
liberty is as untenable as the former.

And now for the true reason, which you will never hear from their lips.
Voluptuousness and a whole pack of desires are what induce them to force
their way into great houses. The dazzling spectacle of abundant gold and
silver, the joys of high feeding and luxurious living, the immediate
prospect of wallowing in riches, with no man to say them nay,--these are
the temptations that lure them on, and make slaves of free men; not lack
of the necessaries of life, as they pretend, but lust of its
superfluities, greed of its costly refinements. And their employers, like
finished coquettes, exercise their rigours upon these hapless slaves of
love, and keep them for ever dangling in amorous attendance; but for
fruition, no! never so much as a kiss may they snatch. To grant that
would be to give the lover his release, a conclusion against which they
are jealously on their guard. But upon hopes he is abundantly fed.
Despair might else cure his ardent passion, and the lover be lover no
more. So there are smiles for him, and promises; always something shall
be done, some favour shall be granted, a handsome provision shall be made
for him,--some day. Meanwhile, old age steals upon the pair; the
superannuated lover ceases from desire, and his mistress has nothing left
to give. Life has gone by, and all they have to show for it is _hope_.

Well now, that a man for the sake of pleasure should put up with every
hardship is perhaps no great matter. Devoted to this one object, he can
think of nothing, but how to procure it. Let that pass. Though it seems
but a scurvy bargain, a bargain for a slave; to sell one's liberty for
pleasures far less pleasant than liberty itself. Still, as I say, let
that pass, provided the price is paid. But to endure unlimited pain,