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

Pol. SAY on, deare mother, say what so you please, on, leaseth you shall never me disease.

Ioc. And seemes it not a heavy hap, my sonne, to be deprived of thy countrey coastes?

Pol. So heavy hap as tongue cannot expresse. Ioc. And what may moste molest the minde of man that is exiléd 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. Ioc. 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.

Ioc. What helpeth most in such adversitie?
Pol. Hope helpeth most to comfort miserie.

Ioc. 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

962

Alh.

THEY

ALHADRA-TERESA

HEY cast me, then a young and nursing mother,
into a dungeon of their prison house;
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

To bid you fight is needless; ye are Romans,

the name will fight itself: to tell ye who 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

22

Go on in full assurance: draw your swords
as daring and as confident as justice;

the gods of Rome fight for ye; loud Fame calls ye,
pitch'd on the topless Apennine, and blows
to all the under-world, all nations, the seas,
and unfrequented deserts where the snow dwells:
wakens the ruin'd monuments; and there,
where nothing but eternal death and sleep is,
informs against the dead bones with your virtues.
Go on, I say; valiant and wise rule Heaven,
and all the great aspècts attend 'em: do but blow
upon this enemy, who, but that we want foes,
cannot deserve that name; and like a mist,
a lazy fog, before your burning valours
you'll find him fly to nothing. This is all:

we have swords, and are the sons of ancient Romans,
heirs to their endless valours: fight and conquer!

J. FLETCHER

964 BEATRICE to the guests departing from the

Bea.

CENCI PALACE-CARDINAL CAMILLO-COLONNA-
CENCI A CARDINAL

DO entreat you, go not, noble guests:

I what atau tyranny and impious hate

stand sheltered by a father's hoary hair?
What if 'tis he who clothed us in these limbs
who tortures them and triumphs? What, if we,
the desolate and the dead, were his own flesh,
his children and his wife, whom he is bound
to love and shelter? Shall we therefore find
no refuge in this merciless wide world?
Oh, think what deep wrongs must have blotted out
first love, then reverence in a child's prone mind,
till it thus vanquish shame and fear! Oh, think!
I have borne much, and kissed the sacred hand
which crushed us to the earth, and thought its stroke
was perhaps some paternal chastisement!

have excused much, doubted; and when no doubt
remained, have sought by patience, love and tears,
to soften him; and when this could not be,
I have knelt down through the long sleepless nights,
and lifted up to God, the father of all,

965

passionate prayers; and when these were not heard, I have still borne:-until I meet you here, princes and kinsmen, at this hideous feast given at my brothers' deaths. Two yet remain, his wife remains and I, whom if ye save not, ye soon may share such merriment again as fathers make over their children's graves. Take us away! Dare no one look on me? none answer? can one tyrant overbear the sense of many best and wisest men? or is it that I sue not in some form of scrupulous law, that ye deny my suit. Oh, God! that I were buried with my brothers! and that the flowers of this departed spring were fading on my grave! and that my father were celebrating now one feast for all! Cam. A bitter wish for one so young and gentle; can we do nothing?

Col.

Nothing, that I see. Count Cenci were a dangerous enemy: yet I would second any one.

And I.

A. Ca. Cen. Retire to your chamber, insolent girl! Bea. Retire thou, impious man! Ay, hide thyself where never eye can look upon thee more! wouldst thou have honour and obedience, who art a torturer? Father, never dream, though thou mayst overbear this company, but ill must come of ill.-Frown not on me! haste, hide thyself, lest with avenging looks my brothers' ghosts should hunt thee from thy seat! cover thy face from every living eye,

966

Dem.

and start if thou but hear a human step:
seek out some dark and silent corner, there,
bow thy white head before offended God,
and we will kneel around, and fervently
pray that he pity both ourselves and thee.

P. B. SHELLEY

DEMETRIUS-CHIRON-AARON

HIRON, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge,

and may, for aught thou know'st, affected be. Chi. Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all;

and so in this, to bear me down with braves.
'Tis not the difference of a year or two
makes me less gracious, or thee more fortunate:
I am as able and as fit as thou

to serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace;
and that my sword upon thee shall approve,
and plead my passions for Lavinia's love.

Aar. Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep the peace.
Why, how now, lords?

Dem.

so near the emperor's palace dare you draw,

and maintain such a quarrel openly?

full well I wot the ground of all this grudge ;

I would not for a million of gold

the cause were known to them it most concerns;
nor would your noble mother for much more
be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome.

For shame, put up.

Not I, till I have sheath'd my rapier in his bosom, and, withal,

thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat that he hath breath'd in my dishonour here. Chi. For that I am prepar'd and full resolv'd,—

foul spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue, and with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.

967

W. SHAKESPEARE

EPITAPH

HERE never breathed a man who, when his life
was closing, might not of that life relate

toils long and hard.-The warrior will report
of wounds, and bright swords flashing in the field,
and blast of trumpets. He who hath been doomed
to bow his forehead in the court of kings,
will tell of fraud and never-ceasing hate,
envy and heart-inquietude, derived

from intricate cabals of treacherous friends.

I, who on shipboard lived from earliest youth,
could represent the countenance horrible
of the vexed waters, and the indignant rage
of Auster and Boötes. Fifty years