Mac.

L. M.

Mac.

their drenched natures lie as in a death,
what cannot you and I perform upon
the unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
his spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt
of our great quell?

Bring forth men-children only; for thy undaunted mettle should compose

nothing but males. Will it not be received,
when we have marked with blood those sleepy two
of his own chamber, and used their very daggers,
that they have done 't?

Who dares receive it other, as we shall make our griefs and clamour roar upon his death?

I am settled, and bend up

each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show:

false face must hide what the false heart doth know.

W. SHAKESPEARE

1109

MACBETH

S this a dagger which I see before me,

Is

the handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch

thee:

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible

to feeling as to sight? or art thou but

a dagger of the mind, a false creation,
proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable

as this which now I draw.

Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
and such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
and on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
which was not so before.-There's no such thing;
it is this bloody business, which informs
thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one-half world
nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
the curtain'd sleep; [now] witchcraft celebrates
pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder,
alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
with Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
moves like a ghost.-Thou sure and firm-set earth,
hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
and take the present horror from the time,

which now suits with it.-Whiles I threat, he lives;
words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
that summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

Rosse ET not your ears despise my tongue for ever,

that ever yet they heard.

Macd. Humph! I guess at it. Rosse Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes savagely slaughtered: to relate the manner, were, on the quarry of these murdered deer, to add the death of you.

Mal.

Merciful heaven!What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break. Macd. My children too?

let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
to cure this deadly grief.

Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty ones?
did you say, all?—O, hell-kite !—All ?

What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
at one fell swoop?

IIII Mal. Dispute it like a man.

Macd.

I shall do so;

but I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,

that were most precious to me.—Did heaven look on, and would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, they were all struck for thee! naught that I am, not for thine own demerits, but for mine,

fell slaughter on their souls: heaven rest them now! Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief

convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,

Mal.

and braggart with my tongue!-But, gentle heavens,
cut short all intermission; front to front
bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
within my sword's length set him; if he scape,
heaven forgive him too!

This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
is ripe for shaking, and the powers above

put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you
may;

the night is long that never finds the day.

1112

LOCHINVAR

W. SHAKESPEARE

YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the west,

best;

and save his good broad-sword he weapon had none,
he rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
there never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone,
he swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
but ere he alighted at Netherby gate,

the bride had consented, the gallant came late:
for a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall

among bride's-men and kinsmen and brothers and all;
then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
(for the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,)
'O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
or to dance at our bridal, young lord Lochinvar?'

'I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ;— love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide— and now I am come, with this lost love of mine, to lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, that would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.' The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, he quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup; she looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, with a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,— 6 Now tread we a measure!' said young Lochinvar. So stately his form, and so lovely her face, that never a hall such a galliard did grace; while her mother did fret, and her father did fume, and the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;

and the bride-maidens whispered, "Twere better by far to have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.'

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, when they reached the halldoor, and the charger stood near;

so light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,

so light to the saddle before her he sprung !

'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush and

scaur ;

they'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young Lochinvar.

SIR W. SCOTT

PASSAGES FOR TRANSLATION

INTO GREEK TRAGIC ANAPÆSTIC VERSE

1113

HE

HAPPINESS

E who would happy live to-day
must laugh the present ills away,
nor think of woes to come;

for come they will or soon or late;
since mixed at best is man's estate
by Heaven's eternal doom.

W. HASTINGS

1114 What though we shroud in savage den from day's all-piercing eye?

1115

Yet have we joys, as other men:

our watchful fears,

our perils, cares,

we sweeten still with liberty.

W

KNOWLEDGE

HO loves not knowledge? who shall rail
against her beauty? may she mix

with men and prosper! who shall fix

her pillars? Let her work prevail.

But on her forehead sits a fire:

she sets her forward countenance and leaps into the future chance, submitting all things to desire.

A. TENNYSON