675

Cas.

He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel
in worlds whose course is equable and pure:
no fears to beat away-no strife to heal-
the past unsighed for, and the future sure;
spake of heroic arts in graver mood
revived, with finer harmony pursued ;
of all that is most beauteous-imaged there
in happier beauty; more pellucid streams,
an ampler ether, a diviner air,

and fields invested with purpureal gleams;

climes which the sun, who sheds the brightest day earth knows, is all unworthy to survey.

CRY

W. WORDSWORTH

CASSANDRA-HECTOR

RY, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes, and I will fill them with prophetic tears. Hec. Peace, sister, peace!

Cas. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled old, soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry, add to my clamours! Let us pay betimes a moiety of that mass of moan to come. Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears! Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand; our fire-brand brother, Paris, burns us all. Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen and a woe: cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go. Hec. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains of divination in our sister work

676

Cho.

some touches of remorse? or is your blood
so madly hot, that no discourse of reason,
nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
can qualify the same?

W. SHAKESPEARE

CHORUS OF DANITES-SAMSON

ESIRE of wine and all delicious drinks,

DE

which many a famous warrior overturns, thou couldest repress; nor did the dancing ruby, sparkling, out-poured, the flavour, or the smell, or taste that cheers the heart of gods and men, allure thee from the cool crystalline stream.

Sam. Wherever fountain or fresh current flowed against the eastern ray, translucent, pure with touch ethereal of Heaven's fiery rod,

I drank, from the clear milky juice allaying thirst, and refreshed: nor envied them the grape whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes. Cho. O madness! to think use of strongest wines

and strongest drinks our chief support of health; when God with these forbidden made choice to rear his mighty champion, strong above compare, whose drink was only from the liquid brook. 677 Sam. But what availed this temperance, not complete against another object more enticing?

678

What boots it at one gate to make defence,
and at another to let in the foe,

effeminately vanquished? by which means,

now blind, disheartened, shamed, dishonoured, quelled,
to what can I be useful, wherein serve

my nation, and the work from Heaven imposed?
but to sit idle on the household hearth,
a burdenous drone; to visitants a gaze,

or pitied object, these redundant locks,
robustious to no purpose, clustering down,
vain monument of strength; till length of years
and sedentary numbness craze my limbs,

to a contemptible old age obscure.

Here rather let me drudge, and earn my bread;
till vermin, or the draff of servile food,
consume me, and oft-invocated death
hasten the welcome end of all my pains.

J. MILTON

OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI TO HIS SON MAX,

MY

Y son of those old narrow ordinances
let us not hold too lightly. They are weights

of priceless value, which oppressed mankind
tied to the volatile will of their oppressors.
For always formidable was the league
and partnership of free power with free will.
The way of ancient ordinance, though it winds,
is yet no devious way. Straight forward goes
the lightning's path, and straight the fearful path
of the cannon-ball. Direct it flies and rapid,

679

El.

Le.

El.

Le.

El.

Le.

shattering that it may reach, and shattering what it reaches.

My son the road, the human being travels,

that, on which blessing comes and goes, doth follow
the river's course, the valley's playful windings,
curves round the corn-field and the hill of vines,
honouring the holy bounds of property!

and thus secure, though late, leads to its end.
S. T. COLERIDGE from Schiller

ELGIVA-LEOLF

S there danger still?

Is

But little here: the dangers of the road,

I trust, are left behind.

Oh, Leolf! much

I owe you, and if aught a kingdom's wealth
affords, could pay the debt...

A kingdom's wealth!
Elgiva! by the heart the heart is paid.
You have your kingdom, my heart hath its love.
We are provided.

Oh! in deeds so kind,

and can you be so bitter in your words!
Have I no offerings of the heart, wherewith
love's service to requite?

The least of boons
scattered by Royal charity's careless hand
o'erpays my service. To requite the rest,
all you possess is but a bankrupt's bond.

H. TAYLOR

680 MORTON TO THE EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND

HE lives of all your loving complices

THE

lean on your health; the which if you give o'er

to stormy passion, must perforce decay.

You cast the event of war, my noble lord,

and summ'd the account of chance, before you said,—

Let us make head. It was your presurmise,

that, in the dole of blows, your son might drop;

you knew, he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge,

more likely to fall in than to get o'er;

you were advis'd, his flesh was capable

681

Cat.
Cæs.

of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit
would lift him where most trade of danger ranged:
yet did you say, Go forth; and none of this,
though strongly apprehended, could restrain
the stiff-borne action: what hath, then, befallen,
or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth,
more than that being which was like to be?

W. SHAKESPEARE

CATO-JULIUS CÆSAR-CHORUS

UR need made thee our consul, and thy virtue. Cato, you will undo him with your praise. Cat. Cæsar will hurt himself with his own envy. Cho. The voice of Cato is the voice of Rome. Cat. The voice of Rome is the consent of heaven! and that hath placed thee, Cicero, at the helm, where thou must render now thyself a man, and master of thy art. Each petty hand can steer a ship becalmed; but he that will govern and carry her to her ends, must know his tides, his currents; how to shift his sails; what she will bear in foul, what in fair weathers; what sands, what shelves, what rocks do threaten her; the forces and the natures of all winds,

gusts, storms and tempests; when her keel ploughs
hell,

and deck knocks heaven; then to manage her,
becomes the name and office of a pilot.

682

B. JONSON

DIDO'S SOLILOQUY BEFORE THROWing herself

Now,

INTO THE FLAMES

WOW, Dido, with these reliques burn thyself, and make Æneas famous through the world

for perjury and slaughter of a queen.

Here lies the sword that in the darksome cave

he drew, and swore by, to be true to me:

thou shalt burn first; thy crime is worse than his.
Here lies the garment which I cloth'd him in
when first he came on shore: perish thou too.
These letters, lines, and perjur'd papers, all
shall burn to cinders in this precious flame.

683

684

And now, ye gods, that guide the starry frame,
and order all things at your high dispose,
grant, though the traitors land in Italy,
they may be still tormented with unrest:
and from mine ashes let a conqueror rise,
that may revenge this treason to a queen
by ploughing up his countries with the sword!

THE SOLDIER'S RETURN

C. MARLOWE

! DAY thrice lovely! when at length the soldier returns home into life; when he becomes

a fellow-man among his fellow-men.

The colours are unfurled, the cavalcade

marshals, and now the buzz is hushed, and hark! now the soft peace-march beats, home, brothers, home! the caps and helmets are all garlanded

with green boughs, the last plundering of the fields. The city gates fly open of themselves,

the ramparts are all filled with men and women,
with peaceful men and women, that send onwards
kisses and welcomings upon the air:

from all the towers rings out the merry peal,
the joyous vespers of a bloody day.

O happy man, O fortunate! for whom

the well-known door, the faithful arms are open,
the faithful tender arms with mute embracing.
S. T. COLERIDGE from Schiller

OTHELLO UPBRAIDING DESDEMONA

it pleas'd heaven

HAD try me with affiction; had they rain'd

all kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
steep'd me in poverty to the very lips;

given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
I should have found in some place of my soul
a drop of patience: but, alas, to make me

the fixéd figure for the time of scorn
to point his slow and moving finger at !-
yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
but there, where I have garnered up my heart,
where either I must live, or bear no life,—

F. S. III

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