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and look just of a piece as I grew from it:
900 I have been a man, Ventidius.
I know thy meaning.
and work'd against my fortune, chid her from me,
at length have wearied her, and now she's gone,
STAY and hear me yet; hear but a word,
the life of him in whom my life subsists;
I was your daughter once, once you did love me;
for so you are in taking of his life.
O think not, sir, that I will stay behind him,
whilst there be asps, and knives, and burning coal:
no Roman dame shall in her great example
Oh where will sorrow stay?
902 DUCHESS OF FLORENCE-DUKE OF SIENNA
E must not be too hasty: remember, sir, the wrong and violence you have offer'd us; burnt up our frontier-towns, made prey before you both of our beasts and corn; slain our dear subjects ; opened the fountain-eyes of thousand widows that daily fling their curses on your fury: what ordinary satisfaction can salve this? Duke. I am at your mercy, lady; 'tis my fortune,
my stubborn fate; the day is yours, you have me:
Not so, my king! I cannot part
shall we be severed. Honoured and beloved
O may the gods
of all thy kindness and benignity!
so shall the wind more gently swell our sails,
and graciously extend to me thy hand
in pledge of ancient friendship.
Fare thee well!
A. SWANWICK from Goethe
IPHIGENIA IN THE TEMPLE OF DIANA
ENEATH your leafy gloom, ye waving boughs of this old, shady, consecrated grove,
as in the goddess' silent sanctuary,
with the same shuddering feeling forth I step,
doth my unquiet spirit feel at home.
Long as the mighty will, to which I bow,
But to my sighs, the hollow-sounding waves
remote from parents and from brethren dwells;
where first to him the radiant sun unclos'd
A. SWANWICK from Goethe
IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON
PHIGENEIA, when she heard her doom at Aulis, and when all beside the king had gone away, took his right hand, and said, "O father! I am young and very happy. I do not think the pious Calchas heard distinctly what the Goddess spake. Old age obscures the senses. If my nurse, who knew my voice so well, sometimes misunderstood while I was resting on her knee both arms, and hitting it to make her mind my words, and looking in her face, and she in mine, might not he also hear one word amiss, spoken from so far off, even from Olympus?” The father placed his cheek upon her head, and tears dropt down it, but the king of men replied not. Then the maiden spake once more. "O father! sayest thou nothing? Hear'st thou not me, whom thou ever hast, until this hour, listen'd to fondly, and awaken’d me
to hear my voice amid the voice of birds,
when it was inarticulate as theirs,
and the down deadened it within the nest?”
A PLEA FOR INDOLENCE
W. S. LANDOR
HAT, what is virtue, but repose of mind,
a pure ethereal calm, that knows no storm;
above the reach of wild ambition's wind, above the passions that this world deform, and torture man, a proud malignant worm? The best of men have ever loved repose: they hate to mingle in the filthy fray; where the soul sours, and gradual rancour grows, embitter'd more from peevish day to day. Even those, whom fame has lent her fairest ray, the most renown'd of worthy wights of yore, from a base world at last have stolen away: so Scipio, to the soft Cumæan shore retiring, tasted joy he never knew before.
But if a little exercise you choose,
some zest for ease, 'tis not forbidden here. Amid the groves you may indulge the Muse, or tend the blooms, and deck the vernal year; or, softly stealing with your watery gear, along the brooks, the crimson-spotted fry you may delude: the whilst, amused, you hear now the hoarse stream, and now the Zephyr's sigh, attuned to the birds and woodland melody.
LADY MACBETH-DOCTOR OF PHYSIC-WAITING
UT, damned spot! out, I say!-One, two: why then 'tis time to do't.-Hell is murky!-Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard! What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our powers to account?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
Doct. Do you mark that?
L.M. The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?— What will these hands ne'er be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.
Go to, go to! you have known what you should not. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: heaven knows what she has known.
L. M. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! Oh! Oh!