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And you, ye crags, upon whose extreme edge
I stand, and on the torrent's brink beneath
behold the tall pines dwindled as to shrubs
in dizziness of distance ; when a leap,
a stir, a motion, even a breath, would bring
my breast upon its rocky bosom's bed
to rest for ever-wherefore do I pause?
I feel the impulse--yet I do not plunge;
I see the peril-yet do not recede;
and my brain reels—and yet my foot is firm;
there is a power upon me which withholds,
and makes it my fatality to live;
if it be life to wear within myself
this barrenness of spirit, and to be
my own soul's sepulchre, for I have ceased
to justify my deeds unto myself,
the last infirmity of evil. Ay,
thou winged and cloud-cleaving minister,
whose happy flight is highest into heaven,
well may'st thou swoop so near me,I should be
thy prey and gorge thine eaglets.

LORD BYRON

957

KING HENRY V-CHIEF JUSTICE

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K. H. OU all look strangely on me:-and you most ;

you are, I think, assured I love you not. C. J. I am assured, if I be measured rightly,

your majesty hath no just cause to hate me. K. H. No!

how might a prince of my great hopes forget
so great indignities you laid upon me?
What! rate, rebuke and roughly send to prison
the immediate heir of England! Was this easy?

May this be washed in Lethe and forgotten?
C. 7. I then did use the person of your father;

the image of his power lay then in me:
and, in the administration of his law,
whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
your highness pleaséd to forget my place,
the majesty and power of law and justice,
the image of the king whom I presented,
and struck me in my very seat of judgment;

whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority,
and did commit you. If the deed were ill,
be you contented, wearing now the garland,
to have a son set your decrees at nought,
to pluck down justice from your awful bench,
to trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
that guards the peace and safety of your person,
nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image,
and mock your workings in a second body.

W. SHAKESPEARE

958

VULCAN-PHEBUS

Vul. OOD

morrow, Phæbus; what's the news abroad? for thou seest all things in the world are done, men act by daylight, or the sight of sun. Phæ. Sometime I cast my eye upon the sea,

to see the tumbling seal or porpoise play.
There see I merchants trading, and their sails
big-bellied with the wind: sea fights sometimes
rise with their smoke-thick clouds to dark my beams;
sometimes I fix my face upon the earth,
with my warm fervour to give metals, trees,
herbs, plants and flowers, life.
Yonder the labouring plowman drives his team.
Further I may behold main battles pitcht;
and whom I favour most (by the wind's help)
I can assist with my transparent rays.
Here spy I cattle feeding; forests there
stored with wild beasts; here shepherds with their

lasses
piping beneath the trees while their flocks gaze.
In cities I see trading, walking, bargaining,
buying and selling, goodness, badness, all things,
and shine alike on all.
No emperor walks forth, but I see his state:
nor sports, but I his pastimes do behold:
I see all coronations, funerals,
marts, fairs, assemblies, pageants, sights and shows.
No hunting but I better see the chase,
than they that rouse the game.

T. HEYWOOD

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959

THE MISERIES OF ROYALTY
HARD condition !

twin-born with greatness, subject to the breath
of every fool, whose sense no more can feel
but his own wringing !
What infinite heart's-ease must kings neglect,
that private men enjoy!
And what have kings, that privates have not too,
save ceremony, save general ceremony?
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?
what kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers ?
what are thy rents? what are thy comings-in?
O ceremony, show me but thy worth!
what is the soul of adoration ?
art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
creating awe and fear in other men?
wherein thou art less happy being fear'd,
than they in fearing.
What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
but poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness,
and bid thy ceremony give thee cure!
think’st thou, the fiery fever will go out
with titles blown from adulation ?
will it give place to flexure and low bending?
canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,
that play'st so subtly with a king's repose;

I am a king that find thee; and I know, 960 'tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball,

the sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
the enter-tissued robe of gold and pearl,
the farcéd title running 'fore the king,
the throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
that beats upon the high shore of this world,
no, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,
not all these, laid in bed majestical,
can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave;
who, with a body fill’d, and vacant mind,
gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;
never sees horrid night, the child of hell ;
but, like a lackey, from the rise to set,
sweats in the eye of Phæbus, and all night

sleeps in Elysium ; next day after dawn,
doth rise, and help Hyperion to his horse;
and follows so the ever-running year
with profitable labour, to his grave:
and, but for ceremony, such a wretch,
winding up days with toil, and nights with sleep,
had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.
The slave, a member of the country's peace,
enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots,
what watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,
whose hours the peasant best advantages.

W. SHAKESPEARE

961

POLYNICES-JOCASTA

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Pol. AY on, deare mother, say what so you please,

what pleaseth you shall never me disease. loc. And seemes it not a heavy hap, my sonne,

to be deprived of thy countrey coastes? Pol. So heavy hap as tongue cannot expresse. loc. And what may moste molest the minde of man

that is exiled from his native soile? Pol. Why, that he lacketh freedom for to speake

what seemeth best, without controll or checke. Soc. Why so! eche servant lacketh libertie

to speake his minde without his master's leave. Pol. In exile every man, or bond or free,

of noble race, or meaner parentage,
is not in this unlike unto the slave
that must of force obey to each man's will

and prayse the peevishnes of each man's pride. loc. And seemeth this so greevous unto thee? Pol. What greefe can greater be, then so constrained

slavelike to serve gainst right and reason both.
Yea much the more to him that noble is
by stately line, or yet by vertuous life

and hath a heart like to his noble minde. loc. What helpeth most in such adversitie? Pol. Hope helpeth most to comfort miserie. Inc. Hope to return from whence he first was driven? Pol. Yea hope that hapneth oftentimes too late, and many dye before such hap may fall.

G. GASCOIGNE

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Alh.

'HEY cast me, then a young and nursing mother,

where was no bed, no fire, no ray of light,
no touch, no sound of comfort! The black air,
it was a toil to breathe it! when the door,
slow opening at the appointed hour, disclosed
one human countenance, the lamp's red flame
cowered as it entered and at once sank down.
Oh miserable! by that lamp to see
my infant quarrelling with the coarse hard bread
brought daily: for the little wretch was sickly-
my rage had dried away its natural food.
In darkness I remained--the dull bell counting,
which haply told me, that the all-cheering sun
was rising on our garden. When I dozed,
my infant's moanings mingled with my slumbers,
and waked me.--If you were a mother, lady,
I should scarce dare to tell you, that its noises
and peevish cries so fretted on my brain,

that I have struck the innocent babe in anger.
Ter. Oh! Heaven! it is too horrible to hear.
Alh. What was it then to suffer? 'Tis most right

that such as you should hear it.--Know you not,
what nature makes you mourn, she bids you heal?
Great evils ask great passions to redress them,
and whirlwinds fitliest scatter pestilence.

S. T. COLERIDGE

963 SUETONIUS' EXHORTATION TO THE ROMANS

AGAINST THE BRITONS

T to ye

bid you fight is needless; ye are Romans,

you go to fight against, his power, and nature, but loss of time; ye know it, know it poor, and oft have made it so: to tell ye further, his body shows more dreadful than it has done, to him that fears less possible to deal with, is but to stick more honour on your actions, load ye with virtuous names, and to your memories tie never-dying Time and Fortune constant. F. S. III

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