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suppose the singing-birds musicians,

the grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, the flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more

than a delightful measure or a dance:

for gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite the man that mocks at it and sets it light. Bol. O, who can hold a fire in his hand

by thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
or clog the hungry edge of appetite
by bare imagination of a feast?

or wallow naked in December snow
by thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Oh, no! the apprehension of the good
gives but the greater feeling to the worse.

W. SHAKESPEARE

982

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SAPPHO

HAUNT his midnight dreams, black Nemesis!
whom, self-conceiving, in the inmost depths

of Chaos blackest Night long labouring bore,
when the stern Destinies, her elder brood,
and shapeless Death, from that more monstrous birth
leapt shuddering! haunt his slumbers, Nemesis!
scorch with the fires of Phlegethon his heart,
till helpless, hopeless, heaven-abandoned wretch,
he too shall seek beneath the unfathomed deep
to hide him from thy fury. How the sea
far distant glitters as the sunbeams smile

and gaily wanton o'er its heaving breast!

Phœbus shines forth, nor wears one cloud to mourn
his votary's sorrows. God of day, shine on!
by men despised, forsaken by the Gods,
I supplicate no more. How many a day,
O pleasant Lesbos, in thy secret streams
delighted have I plunged, from the hot sun
screened by the o'erarching grove's delightful shade,
and pillowed on the waters. Now the waves
shall chill me to repose. Tremendous height!
scarce to the brink will these rebellious limbs
support me. Hark! how the rude deep below
roars round the rugged base, as if it called
its long reluctant victim! I will come.

One leap, and all is over. The deep rest
of death, or tranquil apathy's dead calm,
welcome alike to me. Away, vain fears!

R. SOUTHEY

983 REFLECTIONS on the murder of prince porREX

BY HIS MOTHER VIDEN

WHEN gredy lust in royall seate to reigne

hath reft all care of goddes and eke of men, and cruell hart, wrath, treason and disdaine, within ambicious brest are lodged; then beholde how mischiefe wide her selfe displayes, and with the brother's hand the brother slayes. When bloud thus shed doth staine the heavens face, crying to Jove for vengeance of the deede, the mightie God even moveth from his place with wrath to wreke, then sendes he forth with spede the dreadfull furies, daughters of the night, with serpentes girt, carying the whip of ire, with heare of stinging snakes, and shining bright with flames and bloud, and with a brand of fire; these for revenge of wretched murder done,

do make the mother kill her onely sonne.

Bloud asketh bloud, and death must death requite: Jove by his just and everlasting dome

justly hath ever so requited it.

This times before recorde, and times to come
shall finde it true, and so dooth present proofe
present before our eies for our behoofe.

O happie wight that suffres not the snare
of murderous minde to tangle him in blood!
and happy he that can in time beware
by others harmes, and turne it to his good:
but wo to him that fearing not to offend,
doth serve his lust, and will not see the end.

984

Aul.

Car.

SACKVILLE AND NORTON

THE

AULUS DIDIUS-CARACTACUS

HE morn doth hasten our departure: prepare thee, King, to go: a favouring gale now swells our sails.

Inhuman that thou art!

dost thou deny a moment for a father

to shed a few warm tears o'er his dead son?
I tell thee, chief, this act might claim a life,
to do it duly; even a longer life,

than sorrow ever suffered. Cruel man!
and thou deniest me moments. Be it so.

I know you Romans weep not for your children;
ye triumph o'er your tears, and think it valour;
I triumph in my tears. Yes, best-lov'd boy,
yes, I can weep, can fall upon thy corse,
and I can tear my hairs, these few grey hairs,
the only honours war and age hath left me.

Ah son! thou might'st have ruled o'er many nations,
as did thy royal ancestry; but I,

rash that I was, ne'er knew the golden curb
direction hangs on bravery: else perchance
these men, that fasten fetters on thy father,

had sued to him for peace, and claim'd his friendship. Aul. But thou wast still implacable to Rome, and scorned her friendship.

Car.

had neighing steeds to

had wealth, dominion.

Soldier, I had arms,

whirl my iron cars,

Doth thou wonder, Roman,

I fought to save them? What, if Cæsar aims

to lord it universal o'er the world,

shall the world tamely crouch at Cæsar's footstool?

Aul. Read in thy fate our answer.

985

W. MASON

TITUS CONTEMPLATING JERUSALEM

T must be

IT

and yet it moves me, Romans! it confounds
the counsels of my firm philosophy,

that Ruin's merciless ploughshare must pass o'er,
and barren salt be sown on yon proud city.
As on our olive-crownéd hill we stand,
where Kedron at our feet its scanty waters
distils from stone to stone with gentle motion,
as through a valley sacred to sweet peace,
how boldly doth it front us! how majestically!
like a luxurious vineyard, the hill-side
is hung with marble fabrics, line o'er line,
terrace o'er terrace, nearer still and nearer

F. S. III

23

to the blue heavens.

Here bright and sumptuous

palaces,

with cool and verdant gardens interspers'd;

here towers of war that frown in massy strength:
while over all hangs the rich purple eve,

as conscious of its being her last farewell
of light and glory to that fated city.

And, as our clouds of battle dust and smoke
are melted into air, behold the Temple,
in undisturbed and lone serenity

finding itself a solemn sanctuary

in the profound of heaven! It stands before us,
a mount of snow fretted with golden pinnacles!
the very sun, as though he worshipp'd there,
lingers upon the gilded cedar-roofs;
and down the long and branching porticoes,
on every flowery-sculptured capital,
glitters the homage of his parting beams.
By Hercules! the sight might almost win
the offended majesty of Rome to mercy.

H. H. MILMAN

986 CARDINAL WOLSEY'S SPEECH TO CROMWELL

C

“ROMWELL, I did not think to shed a tear

in all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
and,-when I am forgotten, as I shall be,

and sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee,
say, Wolsey,—that once trod the ways of glory,
and sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,—
found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
a sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;
by that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
the image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;
corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

to silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not:

let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,

thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Crom

well,

thou fall'st a blesséd martyr! Serve the king;

and, prithee, lead me in:

there take an inventory of all I have,

to the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe,

and my integrity to heaven, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!
had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, he would not in mine age
have left me naked to mine enemies.

W. SHAKESPEARE

987

Ch.

CHORUS OF DRUIDS-ARVIRAGUS

UT tell us why thou fledst? Arv. I fled not,

B Druid!

by the great gods I fled not! save to stop

our dastard troops, that basely turn'd their backs. I stopt, I rallied them, when lo a shaft

of random cast did level me with earth,

where, pale and senseless, as the slain around me, I lay till midnight: then, as from long trance awoke, I crawl'd upon my feeble limbs

to a lone cottage, where a pitying hind

lodg'd me and nourish'd me. My strength repair'd,
it boots not that I tell, what humble arts
compell'd I us'd to screen me from the foe.
How now a peasant from a beggarly scrip

I sold cheap food to slaves, that nam'd the price,
nor after gave it. Now a minstrel poor
with ill-tun'd harp, and uncouth descant shrill
I ply'd a thriftless trade, and by such shifts
did win obscurity to shroud my name.
At length to other conquests in the north
Ostorius led his legions: safer now,

yet not secure, I to some valiant chiefs,

whom war had spar'd, discover'd what I was;
and with them plann'd, how surest we might draw
our scattered forces to some rocky fastness

in rough Caernarvon, there to breathe in freedom,
if not with brave incursion to oppress

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