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20 “Art thou a friend to Roderick ?"_" No.”
“ Thou darest not call thyself a foe ?”.
“ Bold words !--but, though the beast of game 25 The privilege of chase may claim,
Though space and law the stag we lend,
The prowling fox was trapp'd orslain?
thou camest a secret spy !"
And let me but till morning rest,
If by the blaze I mark aright,
Then, by these tokens may'st thou know,
Each proud oppressor's mortal foe.”— 40 “Enough, enough ; sit down and share A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare.”
45. Address to the Mummy. 1 And thou hast walk'd about (how strange a story!)
In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago,
And time had not begun to overthrow
Of which the very ruins are tremendous.
Thou hast a tongue-come, let us hear its tune :
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon,
But with thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features. 3 Tell us--for doubtless thou canst recollect,
To whom should we assign the sphinx's fame?
Of either Pyramid that bears his name?
Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer ? 4 Perhaps thou wert a Mason, and forbidden
By oath to tell the mysteries of thy trade;
In Memnon's statue which at sunrise played ?
Are vain ;-Egyptian priests ne'er own'd their juggles. 5 Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat,
Has hob-a-nobb’d with Pharaoh glass to glass;
Or doft'd thine own to let Queen Dido pass,
A torch at the great Temple’s dedication.
Has any Roman soldier mauld and knuckled,
Ere Romulus and Remus had been suckled :-
We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations;
New worlds have risen-we have lost old nations, And countless kings have into dust been humbled,
While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled. 8 Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head, When the
conqueror, Cambyses, March'd armies o'er thy tomb with thundering tread,
O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis,
When the gigantic Memnon fell asunder ? 9 If the tomb's secrets may not be confess'd,
The nature of thy private-life unfold :-
And tears adown that dusky cheek have rollid ;
Have children climb'd those knees, and kissd that face?
What was thy name and station, age and race ? 10 Statue of flesh-immortal of the dead !
Imperishable type of evanescence !
And standest undecayed within our presence,
If its undying guest be lost forever ?
In living virtue; that when both must sever,
46. Othello and Iago.
Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you wooed my lady, Know of your love? 5 Oth. He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
Iago. But for a satisfaction of my thought ;
Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago?
Iago. I did not think, he had been acquainted with her. 10 Oth. O yes; and went between us very oft.
Iago. Think, my lord ? 20 Oth. Think, my lord ? Why, thou dost echo me,
As if there were some monster in thy thought
I heard thee say but now, “Thou lik’dst not that,".
When Cassio left my wife. What didst not like? 25 And when I told thee, he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst, “Indeed ?'
Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me, 30 Show me thy thought.
Iago. My lord, you know I love you.
Oth. I think, thou dost :
And weigh’st thy words before thou giv'st them breath, 35 Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more :
For such things, in a false, disloyal knave,
Iago. For Michael Cassio,
Oth. I think so too.
Iago. Men should be what they seem ; Or, those that be not, 'would they might seem none ! 45 Oth. Certain, men should be what they seem.
Iago. Why then, I think that Cassio is an honest man.
Oth. Nay, yet there's more in this :
As thou dost ruminate; and give thy worst of thoughts 50 The worst of words.
Iago. Good my lord, pardon me;
Utter my thoughts?—Why, say, they are vile and false ? 55
As where's that palace, whereinto foul things
Mal. I know him now. Pray heaven, betimes remove 5 The means that makes us strangers !
Rosse. Sir, Amen.
Rosse. Alas, poor country!
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot 10 Be called our mother, but our grave; where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile ;
A modern ecstasy ; the dead man's knell 15 Is there scarce asked, for whom ; and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Macd. O, relation,
Too nice, and yet too true ! 20 Mal. What is the newest grief?
Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker. Each minute teems a new one.
Macd. How does my wife ?
Rosse. Why, well. 25
Macd. And all my children?
Mucd. Be not a niggard of your speech; how goes it ? 30 Rosse.
I have words,
Macd. What concern they?
The general cause ? or is it a fee-grief, 35 Due to some single breast ?
Rosse. No mind, that's honest,