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Run to your houses; fall upon your knees;
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague,
That needs must light on this ingratitude.

REPROOF OF SERVILITY.-Byron.
Approach, thou craven crouching slave,
Say, is not this Thermopylæ?
These waters blue that round you lave —
Oh servile offspring of the free-

Pronounce what sea, what shore is this
The gulf, the rock of Salamis!

These scenes, their story not unknown,
Arise, and make again your own:
Snatch from the ashes of your sires
The embers of their former fires :
And he who in the strife expires
, Will add to theirs a name of fear
That Tyranny shall quake to hear:
And leave his sons a hope, a fame,
They too will rather die than shame!
For Freedom's battle once begun,
Bequeathed by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever | won.

SAD FOREBODING.-Shakespeare. This man's brow, like to a title-leaf,

Foretells the nature of a tragic volume

To fright our party. How does my son, and brother?
Thou tremblest, and the whiteness of thy cheek

Is apter than thy tongue, to tell thy errand. ☎
Even such a man,- so faint, so spiritless,
So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,-
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night.

And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd...
But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue;-
And I...my Percy's death, ere thou report'st it.

This thou would'st say,-Your son did thus, and thus;
Your brother, thus: so-fought the noble Douglas;
Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds...
But in the end, to stop mine ear indeed,-
Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
Ending with-brother, son, and all....... are dead.

SARCASTIC EXPOSTULATION.-Shakespeare.
Signior Antonio, many a time and oft,—
On the Rialto-you have rated me
About my moneys, and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug;
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe:
You call me- misbeliever, cut-throat-dog,

And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,...
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well, then, it now appears, you need my help:
Go to then; you come to me, and you say,
Shylock, we would have moneys: ...
You say so;
You,... that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; Moneys is your suit!
What should I say to you? Should I not say
Hath a dog money? is it possible

A cur can lend three thousand ducats? or,...
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,

[With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness, ]
Say this,-

Fair sir, you...spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me... such a day; another time

You called me... dog; and for these...courtesies
I'll... lend you thus much moneys.

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Pardon is for men,

And not for reptiles. we have none for Steno.
And no resentment; things like him must sting,
And higher beings suffer,-'tis the charter

Of life. The man who dies by an adder's fang
May have the crawler crush'd, but feels no anger;
"Twas the worm's nature: and some men are worms
In soul... more than the living things of tombs.

SELFISH HATRED.— Shakespeare.

How like a fawning publican he looks!
I hate him for he is a... Christian:-
:-
But more, for that, in low simplicity,

He lends out money gratis,—and brings down
The rate of usance here with us, in Venice.

If I can catch him once upon the hip,

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.

He hates our sacred nation, and he rails,

Even there where merchants most do congregate,-
On me, my bargains, and my well won thrift,
Which he calls. . . interest: Cursed be my tribe,
If I forgive him!

SHUFFLING REFUSAL.- Shakespeare.
They answer in a joint and corporate voice,

That now they are at fall,-- want treasure,— cannot

Do what they would.... are sorry... you are honourable ...... But yet... they could have wish'd... they know not... Something hath been amiss... a noble nature

May catch a wrench... would all were well... 'tis pity.

And so, intending other serious matters,

After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
With certain half-caps, and cold moving nods,
They froze me into silence.

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And wherefore should this good news make me sick? I should rejoice now at this happy news,

And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy,...

O me!...come near me, now I am much ill.

I pray you take me up, and bear me hence

Into some other chamber.

Softly, pray.

Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends,

Unless some dull and favourable hand

Will whisper music to my weary spirit.

SORROW CAUSING FORGETFULNESS.— Shakespeare. Yet one word more :- grief boundeth where it falls, ... Not with an empty hollowness, but weight;

I take my leave before I have begun,

For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done;-
Commend me to my brother, Edmund York -
Lo, this is all:... nay, yet depart not so;
Though this be all, do not so quickly go.
I shall remember more. Bid him... Oh, what?
With all good speed at Plashy visit me.

...

Alack, and what shall good old York there see,
But empty lodgings, and unfurnish'd walls,

Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?

And what hear there for welcome but my groans?

Therefore commend me, . let him not come there-
To seek out sorrow that dwells every where;
Desolate, desolate! I will hence, and die
The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.

STERN REPROACH.-Shakespeare.
Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced?
I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch!
Thou hast undone... thyself, thy son, and me;
And given unto the house of York such head
As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
To entail him and his heirs unto the crown,
What is it but to make thy sepulchre,
And creep into it far before thy time?
Warwick is chancellor, and the lord of Calais;
Stern Faulconbridge commands the narrow seas;
The Duke is made protector of the realm,
And yet shalt thou be safe? Such safety finds
The trembling lamb environed with wolves.
Had I been there, which am a silly woman,

The soldiers should have tossed me on their pikes
Before I would have granted to that act.

But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour.
And, seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself-
Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,—
Until that act of parliament be repealed
Whereby my son is disinherited.

The northern lords, that have forsworn thy colours.
Will follow mine, if once they see them spread:
And spread they shall be; to thy foul disgrace,
And utter ruin of the house of York.

Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away.

SULLENNESS.-Byron.

I have not loved the world. nor the world me;
I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed
To its idolatries a patient knee,—

Nor coin'd my cheeks to smiles,— nor cried aloud

In worship of an echo; in the crowd

They could not deem me one of such; I stood

Among them, but not of them; in a shroud

Of thoughts which were not their thoughts;— and still could,

Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued.

I have not loved the world. nor the world me,

But let us part fair foes. I do believe

-

Though I have found them not-that there may be

Words which are things - hopes which will not deceive,
And virtues which are merciful, nor weave

Snares for the failing: I would also deem,

O'er others' griefs, that some sincerely grieve;

That two, or one, are almost what they seem.—

That goodness is no name, and happiness no dream.

SUSPICION.- -Shakespeare.

Let me have men about me that are fat;
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o'nights:
Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much :- such men are dangerous.
'Would he were fatter!... But I fear him not:
Yet if my name were liable to fear,

I do not know the man I should avoid

So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;
He is a great observer, and he looks

Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,
As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music:

Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort,

As if he mock'd himself,—and scorn'd his spirit
That could be mov'd to smile at any thing.
Such men as he | be never at heart's ease

While they behold a greater than themselves;
And therefore are they very dangerous.

I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,

Than what I fear... for always I am... Cæsar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,-
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.

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SYMPATHY, WITH ADMIRATION.-. O! I have seen a sight, a glorious sight! Thou would'st have smiled to see it

Baillie.

Yes, smil'd! although mine eyes are wet with tears.
Faith, so they are; well, well, but I smiled too.
O, had you seen it!

Drawn out in goodly ranks—there stood our troops;
Here, in the graceful state of manly youth.

His dark face brightened with a generous smile,-
Which to his eyes such flashing lustre gave,

As though his soul, like an unsheathed sword,

Had through them gleamed -our noble General stood;
And to his soldiers, with heart-moving words
The veteran showing, his brave deeds rehearsed;
Who, by his side stood like a storm-scathed oak
Beneath the shelter of some noble tree,
In the green honours of its youthful prime.
I cannot tell thee how the veteran looked!
At first he bore it up with cheerful looks,
As one who fain would wear his honours bravely,
And greet the soldiers with a comrade's face :
But when Count Basil, in such moving speech,
Told o'er his actions past, and bade his troops
Great deeds to emulate, his countenance chang'd;
High heav'd his manly breast, as it had been
By inward strong emotion half-convuls'd;
Trembled his nether lip; he shed some tears,
The General paus'd,— the soldiers shouted loud;
Then hastily he brushed the drops away,

And wav'd his hand, and clear'd his tear-chok'd voice,
As though he would some grateful answer make;
When back with double force the whelming tide
Of passion came; high o'er his hoary head
His arm he toss'd, and, heedless of respect,
In Basil's bosom hid his aged face,
Sobbing aloud. From the admiring ranks
A cry arose; still louder shouts resound;
I felt... a sudden tightness grasp my throat
As it would strangle me; such as I felt, -
I knew it well,- some twenty years ago,
When my good father shed his blessing on me.
I hate to weep, and so I came away.

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