βαιῷ δὲ χρυσῷ τὴν χνοάζουσαν κόνιν
χρυσοῦ προτιμὴν τοῦ κόνει κεχρωσμένου
ξυνών θ ̓ ἕκαστος τὸ ξυνὸν σέβειν ἔφυ.
πρὸς ταῦτα, μὴ, φέριστε, θαυμάσῃς ἔτι,
ὁθούνεχ' αἱ νῦν Ελλάδος πανηγύρεις
Αἴαντα προσκυνοῦσι· τῶν γὰρ ἀστάτων
φορᾷ πέφυκεν εὐμαρῶς ἁλώσιμον
βρότειον ὄμμα, τοῖς δ ̓ ἀκινήτοισιν οὔ.
βάξις μὲν ἡπίδημος ἦν πάλαι σέθεν,
καὶ νῦν ἂν εἴη, καὶ πάλιν γενήσεται,
εἰ μή συ κρύψεις σαυτὸν ἐμψύχῳ τάφῳ,
σκηναῖς τε τὴν σὴν κληδόν ̓ ἐσφραγισμένην
φράξεις, ὁ πολλὰ τῇδ ̓ ἀριστεύσας δορὶ,
στόλους ὁ πράξας ἐν θεοῖς ἐπιφθόνους,
ὁ πρὸς χερῶν ἅμιλλαν ὁρμήσας Ἄρην.

1829.]

ΓΡΙΦΙΘΟΣ. ΚΑΘΑΡΙΝΑ.

ΓΡ. Οὐκ ἔσθ' ὅπως οὐ τιμιωτάτην φύσιν

ἱερεὺς ὅδ' ἔσχε, δυσγενής περ ὢν, ὅμως.
ἐκ σπαργάνων γὰρ ἦν μὲν ἐν Μούσαις ἀεὶ,
τούτων τ ̓ ἀκριβῶς ἥψατ'· ἦν δ ̓ ἄγαν σοφὸς,
πιθανόν τ' ἐνώμα καὶ μελίγλωσσον στόμα.
τοῖσιν μὲν ἐχθροῖς δυσπροσήγορος, πικρός,
φίλοισι δ ̓ ἡδὺς, ὥσπερ οὐ θέρος ποτέ·

50

And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
(Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, Madam,
He was most princely. Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little :
And to add greater honours to his age

Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Kath. After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,

But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.

Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me, With thy religious truth, and modesty,

Now in his ashes honour. Peace be with him!

εἰ δ ̓ οὖν ἀπλήστως κερδέων ἐφίετο,

(ταύτῃ γὰρ ἐξήμαρτεν, οὐκ ἄλλως ἐρῶ) δοῦναί γε μέντοι καὶ μάλ' ἀφθόνῳ χερὶ πρόθυμος ἦν, δέσποινα-Μαρτυρεῖ δέ μοι τοῦδ' ἔργα τἀνδρὸς, δίπτυχαι Μουσῶν ἕδραι, σεμνὴ ξυνωρὶς, ὑμὶν ἃς καθείσατο, Ἰψοῖκε, καὶ σὺ καλλίπυργ ̓ Οξωνία· ὧν ἡ μὲν αὐτῷ ξυμμέτρως διώλετο, οὐ γὰρ λελείφθαι τοῦ κτίσαντος ἤθελε ἡ δ', ἐνδεής περ τοῦ τελεσθῆναί γ' ἔτι, ὧδ' ἔστι κλεινὴ, καὶ τέχνημ ̓ ὑπέρσοφον, καὶ δὴ τοσοῦτον αὔξεται καθ' ἡμέραν, ὥστ ̓ οὐκ ὀλεῖται τοὔνομ ̓, ὑμνήσει δέ νιν γῆ πᾶσα, τοὔργου τοῦδ ̓ ἀειμνήστου χάριν. πεσόντα μέν νυν πλεῖστ ̓ ἂν ὀλβίσαιμ', ἐπεὶ τὸ τηνίκ' ἤδη τοῦτο μὲν, χρόνῳ ποτὲ τὴν αὐτὸς αὑτοῦ καρδίαν ἐγνώρισε, κἄξευρ ̓ ὁποῖον κτῆμα τὸ σμικρὰ φρονεῖν· μείζω δὲ δή τιν', ἢ κατ ̓ ἀνθρώπου δόσιν, τιμὴν προσῆψε τήνδ' ὁ γηράσκων ̔χρόνος· ἔθνησκ ̓ ἐν αὐτῷ τῷ θανεῖν σέβων Θεόν. ΚΑ. Εἰ γὰρ θανοῦσ ̓ εὕροιμι τοιοῦτόν τινα

κήρυχ', ὃς ἔργα τἀμὰ τοῦ βίου φράσει,
ἀκήρατόν τε δόξαν εὖ περιστελεῖ,
σοί γ' ἐξ ὁμοίου πιστὸν ἀψευδὲς στόμα.
Ὃν γὰρ μάλιστα ζῶντ ̓ ἀπήχθαιρον βροτῶν,
τῶν σῶν ἀληθεύσαντος αἰδοίῳ φρενὶ
λόγων ἕκατι, κἀνδίκου φρονήματος,
τιμῶ θανόντα τοῦτον—εἰρήνης τύχοι.

10

20

30

A

ROMEO AND JULIET. ACT 2. Sc. 2.

ROMEO. JULIET.

Rom. HE jests at scars, that never felt a wound.But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid, since she is envious:

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.

It is my lady! O! it is my love!

O, that she knew she were !—

She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses: I will answer it.—

I am too bold! 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp: her eye in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright,

ΡΩΜΕΩΝ. ΙΟΥΛΙΑ.

20

ΡΩΜ. ΟΥΛΑΙΣ γελᾷ τις τραυμάτων ἄπειρος ὤν. τί χρῆμα λεύσσω; τίς ποθ ̓ ὑψόθεν δόμων αὐγὴ διῇξεν; ἡλίου μὲν ἀντολαὶ φάος τόδ ̓ ἐστιν, ἥλιος δ ̓ Ἰουλία. ἀλλ ̓ εἶ ἐγείρου καλλιφεγγὲς ἥλιε, φθονερὰν σελήνην φθεῖρε, καὶ γὰρ ἄλγεσι τέτηκεν ἤδη πᾶσα καὶ μαραίνεται, σοῦ τῆς γε δούλης καλλονῇ νικωμένη. μὴ νῦν φθονούσῃ τῇδε δουλεύσῃς ἔτι καὶ παρθένειον ἥν σ ̓ ἐπαμπίσχει στολὴν, χλωρὰ γάρ ἐστι καὶ σαθρὰ, μόνοι δέ νιν μωροὶ φοροῦσιν, ὡς τάχιστ' ἔκδυέ συ. δέσποιν' ἐμὴ πέφηνε, καρδίας ἐμῆς τὰ φίλταθ ̓ ὡς τόδ ̓ ὤφελε ξυνειδέναι. φωνεῖ τι, φωνεῖ, κοὐδὲν εἶφ ̓ ὅμως· τί μήν; ὄσσων με σαίνει φθέγμ ̓, ἐγὼ δ ̓ ἀμείψομαι. τί δῆτ ̓ ἀναιδής εἰμ'; ἔμ' οὐ προσεννέπει, ἐν οὐρανῷ γὰρ οἷα καλλιστεύεται ἄστρω τιν' ἀσχολοῦντε τῆς νεάνιδος λίσσεσθον ὄμματ', ἔστ ̓ ἂν ἱκνῆσθον πάλιν, 20 ἐν τοῖσιν αὑτῶν ἐγκαταυγάζειν κύκλοις. τί δ ̓ εἰ μετοικισθέντ ̓ ἐν αἰθέρος πτυχαῖς τὰ μὲν γένοιτο, τὼ δὲ παρθένου κάρᾳ· πρὸς δὴ φαεννὴν παρθένου παρηΐδα μαυροῖτ ̓ ἂν ἄστρα, λαμπὰς ὡς παρ ̓ ἥλιον, μετάρσιος τ' ὀφθαλμὸς αἰθέρος διὰ πέμποι σέλας τηλαυγές, ὀρνίθων μέλη