Tell But the strong man is strongest when alone.
Sta. Your country, then, connot rely on you,
if in despair she rises 'gainst her foes.
Tell Tell rescues the lost sheep from yawning gulfs; is he a man, then, to desert his friends? Yet whatsoe'er you do, spare me from council: I was not born to ponder and select; but when your course of action is resolved, then call on Tell; you shall not find him fail.
HE cold in clime are cold in blood,
their love can scarce deserve the name;
but mine was like a lava flood
that boils in Etna's breast of flame.
I cannot prate in puling strain
of ladye-love and beauty's chain:
if changing cheek, and scorching vein,
lips taught to writhe, but not complain;
if daring deed, and vengeful steel,
and all that I have felt and feel,
betoken love-that love was mine,
and shewn by many a bitter sign.
'Tis true, I could not whine, nor sigh,
I knew but to obtain or die.
I die—but first I have possessed;
and, come what may, I have been blessed.
1092 CARACTACUS TO ELidurus, son OF CARTIS
'OME hither, youth; be thou to me a son,
to her a
brother. Thus with trembling arms
I lead you forth; children, we go to Rome.
Weep'st thou, my girl? I prithee hoard thy tears
for the sad meeting of thy captive mother:
for we have much to tell her, much to say
of these good men, who nurtured us in Mona:
much of the fraud and malice that pursued us;
much of her son, who poured his precious blood:
to save his sire and sister: think'st thou, maid,
her gentleness can hear the tale and live?
and yet she must. Oh Gods, I grow a talker!
grief and old age are ever full of words:
but I'll be mute. Adieu! ye holy men :
yet one look more-Now lead us hence for ever.
PEAK not of treaty, speak not of surrender!
the Saviour comes, he arms him for the fight. The fortunes of the foe before the walls
of Orleans shall be wreck'd: his hour is come,
he now is ready for the reaper's hand,
and with her sickle will the maid appear,
and mow to earth the harvest of his pride.
She from the heavens will tear his glory down,
which he had hung aloft among the stars;
despair not! fly not! for ere yonder corn
assumes its golden hue, or ere the moon
displays her perfect orb, no English horse
shall drink the rolling waters of the Loire.
A. SWANWICK from Schiller
ND what of thine Arcadian mate, who bears suspicion from thy grandsire of thy death, for whom, as I suppose, thou passest here? Ep. Sworn to our plot he is: but, that surmise
fix'd him the author of my death, I knew not. Mer. Proof, not surmise, shows him in commerce closeEp. With this Messenian tyrant-that I know.
Mer. And entertain'st thou, child, such dangerous friends?
Ep. This commerce for my best behoof he plies.
Mer. That thou may'st read thine enemy's counsel plain?
Ep. Too dear his secret wiles have cost our house.
Mer. And of his unsure agent what demands he?
Ep. News of my business, pastime, temper, friends.
Mer. His messages, then, point not to thy murder.
Æp. Not yet; though such, no doubt, his final aim.
Mer. And what Arcadian helpers bring'st thou here?
Æp. Laias alone; no errand mine for crowds.
Mer. On what relying, to crush such a foe?
Ep. One sudden stroke, and the Messenians' love.
1095 THOMAS PERCY, EARL OF WORCESster to RICHARD VERNON
T is not possible, it cannot be,
the king should keep his word in loving us;
he will suspect us still, and find a time
to punish this offence in other faults:
suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes:
for treason is but trusted like the fox;
who, ne'er so tame, so cherished and locked up,
will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
Look how we can, or sad or merrily,
interpretation will misquote our looks;
and we shall feed like oxen at a stall,
the better cherished still the nearer death.
1096 CALANTHA before the DEAD BODY OF ITHOCLES
ORGIVE me:—now I turn to thee, thou shadow
of my contracted lord: bear witness all,
I put my mother's wedding-ring upon
his finger; 'twas my father's last bequest.
Thus I new marry him, whose wife I am;
death shall not separate us. O, my lords,
I but deceived your eyes with antick gesture
when one news straight came huddling on another,
of death and death and death, still I danced for-
ward;
but it struck home, and here, and in an instant.
Be such mere women, who with shrieks and outcries
can vow a present end to all their sorrows:
yet live to court new pleasures, and outlive them.
They are the silent griefs which cut the heart-
let me die smiling.
Near. 'Tis a truth too ominous.
Cal. One kiss on these cold lips; my last! crack, crack— Argos now's Sparta's king.
1097 CALENDARO A CONSPIRATOR-BERTUCCIO CHIEF OF THE ARSENAL
UT if we fail- Bert. They never fail who die in a great cause: the block may soak their gore; their heads may sodden in the sun; their limbs be strung to city gates and castle walls
but still their spirit walks abroad. Though years elapse and others share as dark a doom,
they but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts
which overpower all others and conduct
the world at last to freedom: What were we
if Brutus had not lived? He died in giving
Rome liberty, but left a deathless lesson-
a name which is a virtue, and a soul
which multiplies itself throughout all time,
when wicked men wax mighty, and a state
turns servile: he and his high friend were styled,
'The last of Romans!' Let us be the first
of true Venetians, sprung from Roman sires.
1098 DONNA ISABELLA ON Discovering the bODY
OF HER MURDERED SON DON MANUEL
E terror-stricken witnesses, that feed
your gaze upon my anguish, learn to know how warning visions cheat, and boding sneers
but mock our hopes. When in my teeming womb
this daughter lay, her father in a dream
saw from his nuptial couch two laurels grow,
and in the midst a lily all in flames,
that catching swift the boughs and knotted stems
burst forth with crackling rage, and o'er the house
spread in one mighty sea of fire. Perplexed
by this terrific dream, my husband sought
the counsels of the mystic art and thus
pronounced the sage 'If I a daughter bore,
the murderess of his sons, the destined spring
of ruin to our house, the baleful child
should see the light.' For this her father spoke
the dire behest of death. I rescued her,
the innocent, the doomed one: from my arms
the babe was torn: to stay the curse of heaven,
and save my sons, the mother gave her child.
A. SWANWICK from Schiller
BEATRICE-DON CÆSAR-CHORUS
Y brother! D. C. Sister, are thy tears for me?
for her and for thy sister! Cho. She has won:
resistless are her prayers. Despairing mother,
awake to hope again-his choice is made:
thy son shall live.
D. C. (to his brother's coffin) I will not rob thee, brother,
the sacrifice is thine ;-Hark, from the tomb,
mightier than mother's tears, or sister's love,
thy voice resistless cries: my arms enfold
a treasure, potent with celestial joys
to deck this earthly sphere, and make a lot
worthy the gods! but shall I live in bliss,
while in the tomb thy sainted innocence
sleeps unavenged? Thou, Ruler of our days
all just, all-wise, let not the world behold
thy partial care! I saw her tears-enough-
they flowed for me! I am content, my brother,
I come! (he stabs himself)
In dread amaze I stand, nor know
if I should mourn his fate. One truth revealed
speaks in my heart:-no good supreme is life:
but of all earthly ills the chief is-Guilt!
A. SWANWICK from Schiller
1100 LORD CLIFFORD-EDMUND EARL OF RUTLAND.
Clif. HOW now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear,
that makes him close his eyes?—I'll open them.
Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch
that trembles under his devouring paws:
|