In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried.  The prince and Imlac then walked out together, to converse, without the notice of the rest.  The prince, whose thoughts were always on the wing, as he passed by the gate, said, with a countenance of sorrow, “Why art thou so strong, and why is man so weak?”

“Man is not weak,” answered his companion; “knowledge is more than equivalent to force.  The master of mechanicks laughs at strength.  I can burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly.  Some other expedient must be tried.”

As they were walking on the side of the mountain, they observed that the conies, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had taken shelter among the bushes, and formed holes behind them, tending upwards, in an oblique line.  “It has been the opinion of antiquity,” said Imlac, “that human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct of animals; let us, therefore, not think ourselves degraded by learning from the cony.  We may escape, by piercing the mountain in the same direction.  We will begin, where the summit hangs over the middle part, and labour upwards, till we shall issue up beyond the prominence.”

The eyes of the prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled with joy.  The execution was easy, and the success certain.

No time was now lost.  They hastened, early in the morning, to choose a place proper for their mine.  They clambered, with great fatigue, among crags and brambles, and returned without having discovered any part that favoured their design.  The second and the third day were spent in the same manner, and with the same frustration.  But, on the fourth, they found a small cavern, concealed by a thicket, where they resolved to make their experiment.

Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove earth, and they fell to their work on the next day with more eagerness than vigour.  They were presently exhausted by their efforts, and sat down to pant upon the grass.  The prince, for a moment, appeared to be discouraged.  “Sir,” said his companion, “practice will enable us to continue our labour for a longer time; mark, however, how far we have advanced, and you will find, that our toil will sometime have an end.  Great works are performed, not by strength, but perseverance:  yonder palace was raised by single stones, yet you see its height and spaciousness.  He that shall walk with vigour three hours a day, will pass, in seven years, a space equal to the circumference of the globe.”

They returned to their work day after day, and, in a short time, found a fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with very little obstruction.  This Rasselas considered as a good omen.  “Do not disturb your mind,” said Imlac, “with other hopes or fears than reason may suggest; if you are pleased with prognosticks of good, you will be terrified, likewise, with tokens of evil, and your whole life will be a prey to superstition.  Whatever facilitates our work is more than an omen, it is a cause of success.  This is one of those pleasing surprises which often happen to active resolution.  Many tilings, difficult to design, prove easy to performance.”