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curse upon curse; and, as the shaken weed
scatters around a thousand poison-seeds,
so they assassins ceaseless generate,
their children's children ruthless to destroy.-
Now tell the remnant of thy brother's tale,
which horror darkly hid from me before.
How did the last descendant of the race,—
the gentle child, to whom the Gods assigned
the office of avenger,-how did he
escape that day of blood? did equal fate
around Orestes throw Avernus' net?

say, was he saved? and is he still alive?
and lives Electra, too?

A. SWANWICK from Goethe

1063

IPHIGENIA-PYLADES

S doth the flower revolve to meet the sun,

Iph. As

once more my spirit to sweet comfort turns, struck by thy words' invigorating ray.

How dear the counsel of a present friend,
lacking whose godlike power, the lonely one

in silence droops! for, locked within his breast,
slowly are ripened purpose and resolve,

which friendship's genial warmth had soon matured. Pyl. Farewell! I haste to re-assure our friends, who anxiously await us: then with speed

I will return, and, hid within the brake, attend thy signal.—Wherefore all at once, doth anxious thought o'ercloud thy brow serene? Iph. Forgive me: as light clouds athwart the sun, so cares and fears float darkling o'er my soul. Pyl. Oh, banish fear: with danger it hath formed a close alliance,—they are constant friends. Iph. It is an honest scruple, which forbids

Pyl.

Iph.

Pyl.

that I should cunningly deceive the king,
and plunder him who was my second sire.
Him thou dost fly, who would have slain thy brother.
To me, at least, he hath been ever kind.
What fate commands is not ingratitude.

Iph. Alas! it still remains ingratitude;
necessity alone can justify it.

Pyl. Thee, before gods and men it justifies.

Iph.
Pyl.

But my own heart is still unsatisfied.
Scruples too rigid are a cloak for pride.

Iph. I cannot argue, I can only feel.

Pyl.

Conscious of right, thou shouldst respect thyself.
A. SWANWICK from Goethe

1064 TIMOLEON THE CORINTHIAN GENERAL INVEIGH

ING AGAINST THe degenERATE GOVERNMENT
OF SYRACUSE

OU

You have not, as good patriots should do, studied

the public good, but your particular ends;

your senate-house, which used not to admit

a man, however popular, to stand

at the helm of government, whose youth was not
made glorious by action; whose experience,
crowned with gray hairs, gave warrant to his counsels,
heard and received with reverence, is now filled
with green heads, that determine of the state
over their cups, or when their sated lusts
afford them leisure; or supplied by those

who, rising from base arts and sordid thrift,

are eminent for their wealth, not for their wisdom;

which is the reason that to hold a place

in council, which was once esteemed an honour
and a reward for virtue, hath quite lost
lustre and reputation, and is made

a mercenary purchase. Whence it proceeds
that the treasure of the city is engrossed
by a few private men, the public coffers
hollow with want; and they, that will not spare
one talent for the common good, to feed
the pride and bravery of their wives, consume

in plate, in jewels, and superfluous slaves,
what would maintain an army.-Yet, in this plenty,
and fat of peace, your young men ne'er were trained
in martial discipline; and your ships unrigged
rot in the harbour; no defence prepared,
but thought unuseful; as if that the gods,
indulgent to your sloth, had granted you
a perpetuity of pride and pleasure,
no change feared or expected.

P. MASSINGER

1065

1066

THUS

STAUFFACHER

~HUS spake our fathers: and shall we endure
the shame and infamy of this new yoke,
and from the vassal brook what never king
dared, in the fulness of his power, attempt?
This soil we have created for ourselves

by the hard labour of our hands; we've changed
the giant forest, that was erst the haunt
of savage bears, into a home for man;
extirpated the dragon's blood, that wont
to rise, distent with venom, from the swamps;
blasted the solid rock; o'er the abyss

the soil is ours.

thrown the firm bridge for the wayfaring man :
by the possession of a thousand years
And shall an alien lord,
himself a vassal, dare to venture here,
on our own hearths insult us, and attempt
to forge the chains of bondage for our hands,
and do us shame on our own proper soil?
is there no help against such wrong as this?
yes-there's a limit to the despot's power!
when the oppressed looks round in vain for justice,
with fearless heart he makes appeal to Heaven,
and thence brings down his everlasting rights
which there abide, inalienably his,

and indestructible as are the stars.

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T. MARTIN from Schiller

ARNOLD OF MELCHTHAL

THE eye's light, of all the gifts of Heaven

the dearest, best! From light all beings live

each fair created thing-the very plants

turn with a joyful transport to the light,

and he he must drag on through all his days
in endless darkness! Never more for him
the sunny meads shall glow, the flow'rets bloom;
nor shall he more behold the roseate tints
of the iced mountain top! To die is nothing,
but to have life, and not have sight,-oh, that

is misery indeed! Why do you look

so piteously at me? I have two eyes,

yet to my poor blind father can give neither;
no, not one gleam of that great sea of light,
that with its dazzling splendour floods my gaze.—
What extremity

remains for apprehension, when men's eyes
have ceased to be secure within their sockets?
are we defenceless? wherefore did we learn
to bend the cross-bow,—wield the battle-axe?
what living creature, but in its despair,
finds for itself a weapon of defence?

The baited stag will turn, and with the show
of his dread antlers hold the hounds at bay;
the chamois drags the huntsman down th' abyss ;
the very ox, the partner of man's toil,

the sharer of his roof, that meekly bends

the strength of his huge neck beneath the yoke, springs up, if he's provoked, whets his strong horn, and tosses his tormentor to the clouds.

T. MARTIN from Schiller

1067

H

CICERO ON ANTONY

E is a man 'gainst whom I must provide, that, as he'll do no good, he'll do no harm. He, though he be not of the plot, will like it, and wish it should proceed; for unto men prest with their wants, all change is ever welcome. I must with offices and patience win him, make him by art that which he is not born, a friend unto the public, and bestow the province on him, which is by the senate decreed to me: that benefit will bind him: 'tis well if some men will do well for price; so few are virtuous when the reward's away. Nor must I be unmindful of my private.

He that stands up 'gainst traitors and their ends
shall need a double guard of law and friends,
especially in such an envious state,

that sooner will accuse the magistrate
than the delinquent; and will rather grieve
the treason is not acted, than believe.

BEN JONSON

1068

AGRIPPINA TO ACERONIA

HUS ever grave and undisturb'd reflection

THUS

pours its cool dictates in the madding ear
of rage, and thinks to quench the fire it feels not.
Say'st thou I must be cautious, must be silent,
and tremble at the phantom I have raised?
Carry to him thy timid counsels. He

perchance may heed 'em: tell him too, that one
who had such liberal power to give, may still
with equal power resume that gift, and raise
a tempest that shall shake her own creation
to its original atoms-tell me! say

this mighty emperor, this dreaded hero,
has he beheld the glittering front of war?
Knows his soft ear the trumpet's thrilling voice,
and outcry of the battle? Have his limbs
sweat under iron harness? Is he not
the silken son of dalliance, nursed in ease
and pleasure's flow'ry lap?—Rubellius lives,
and Sylla has his friends, though school'd by fear
to bow the supple knee, and court the times
with shows of fair obeisance; and a call
like mine might serve belike to wake pretensions
drowsier than theirs, who boast the genuine blood
of our imperial house.

T. GRAY

1069

DIOCLESIAN

ALK not of comfort: I have broke my faith,

TALK

and the gods fight against me; and proud man,

however magnified, is but as dust

before the raging whirlwind of their justice.
What is it to be great, adored on earth,
when the immortal powers that are above us
turn all our blessings into horrid curses,
and laugh at our resistance, or prevention
of what they purpose? Oh, the Furies that
I feel within me! whipp'd on by their angers
for my tormentors! Could it else have been
in nature, that a few poor fugitive Persians,
unfriended and unarm'd too, could have robbed me

F. S. III

27

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