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3. When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow. When I see kings lying by those who deposed them, — when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, — I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the tombs, of some that died yesterday and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together. 4. What'! will a man play tricks', will he indulge

A silly, fond conceit of his fair form,
And just proportion, fashionable mien,
And pretty face, in presence of his God?
Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes
As with the diamond on his lily hand,
And play his brilliant parts before my eyes,

When I am hungry for the bread of life'?
5. How beautiful is night!

A dewy freshness fills the silent air;
No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain

Breaks the serene of heaven;
In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine

Rolls through the dark-blue depths.
· Beneath her steady ray

The desert-circle spreads
Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky.

How beautiful is night!
6. My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!

The child is father of the man,
And I could wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety.
7. Macbeth. What man dare, I dare:

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The armed rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger, —
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble. Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword:
If trembling I inhibit then, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!

$ 62. Exercises in High Pitch. (See $ 43.) 1. Fight, gentlemen of England ! fight, bold yeomen!

Draw, archers, draw ... your arrows to the head:
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves !
- A thousand hearts are great within my bosom:
Advance our standards, set upon our foes;
Our ancient word of courage, fair St. George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons !
Upon them! Victory ... sits on our helms ! HI

2. A horse! a horse! my KINGDOM for a horse !

– Slave! I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die.
I think there be six ... Richmonds in the field !
Five have I slain to-day instead of him.

A horse! a horse! my KINGDOM for a horse ! 3. Coriolanus. Hearst thou, Mars ?

Aufidius. Name not the god, thou boy of tears !

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too ... great for what contains it. Boy! O, slave! (Pardon me, lords, 't is the first time that ever I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, Must give this ... cur the lie !)

Cut me to pieces, Volces ; men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me. — “ Boy?” False hound !
If you have writ your annals true, 't is there,
That like an eagle in a dovecote, I
Fluttered your Volces in Co-ri'o-li:
ALONE ... I did it. — “ Boy!”

4. Not speak of Mortimer!

Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul
Want mercy, if I do not join with him. -
Yea, on his part, I'll empty all these veins,
And shed my dear blood, drop by drop, in the dust,
But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer
As high in the air as this unthankful king;
As this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke.
Those prisoners I shall keep. I WILL; that's flat.
He said he would not ransom Mortimer;
Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer; —
But I will find him when he lies asleep,
And in his ear I'll HOLLA — Mortimer !
Nay, I'll have a starling, shall be taught to speak
Nothing but — MORTIMER, ... and give it him,

To keep his anger still in motion.
3. Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight

With a new Gorgon : — Do not bid me speak;
See and then speak yourselves. — Awake! awake!
Ring the alarum-bell: — Murder! and treason !
Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm ! awake!
Shake off this drowsy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself! — up, up, and see
The great doom's image! — Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprights,

To countenance this horror! 6. Now what wait we? —

For Alfred's word to move upon the foe?
Upon him then! Now think ye on the things
You most do love! Husbands and fathers, on
Their wives and children ; lovers, on their beloved;
And all, upon their COUNTRY! When you use

D

Your weapons, think on the beseeching eyes,
To whet them, could have lent you tears for water!
O, now be men, or never! From your hearths
Thrust the unbidden feet, that from their nooks
Drove forth your aged sires, — your wives and babes!
The land that bore you, -0,
Do honor to her! Let her glory in
Your breeding! Rescue her! Revenge her, — or

Ne'er call her mother more!
7. Rouse ye, Romans! Rouse ye, ... slaves !

Have ye brave sons ? — Look in the next fierce brawl
To see them die! Have ye fair daughters ? — Look
To see them live, torn from your arms, distained,
Dishonored ; and, if ye dare call for justice,
Be answered by the lash! - Yet this is Rome,
That sate on her seven hills, and from her throne
Of beauty ruled the world ! Yet, we are Romans !
Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman
Was greater than a king! And once again -
(Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread
Of either Brutus !) — once again I swear,

The Eternal City shall be free! 8. I have been, I am, I shall be, even to the tomb, the man of the public liberty, the man of the constitution. If to be such be to become the man of the people rather than of the nobles, then woe to the privileged orders! For privileges shall have an end, but ... the people ... are eternal !

9. Strike - till the last armed foe expires !

Strike — for your altars and your fires !
Strike — for the green graves of your sires !

God, and your native land !

10. Now, by your children's cradles, - now, by your fathers' graves,

Be men to-day, Quir-i'tēs, or be forever slaves !
For this did Servius give us laws ? For this did Lucrece bleed ?
For this was the great vengeance wrought on Tarquin's evil seed?
For this did those false sons make red the axes of their sire ?
For this did Scævlo-la's right hand hiss in the Tuscan fire ?
Shall the vile earth-fox awe the race that stormed the lion's den?
Shall we, who could not brook one lord, crouch to the wicked Ten ?

11. Courage, Romans! The gods are for us! those gods whose temples and altars the impious Tarquin has profaned. By the blood of the wronged Lucretia, I swear, (hear me, ye Powers Supreme !) by this blood, which was once so pure, and which nothing but royal villainy could have polluted, - I swear that I will pursue, to the death, these Tarquins, with fire and sword; nor will I ever suffer any one of that family, or of any other family whatsoever, to be king in Rome! - On, to the Forum! Bear the body hence, high in the public view, through all the streets! On, Romans, on! The fool shall set you free!

12. I'll keep them all;

He shall not have a Scot of them;
No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:
I'll keep them ... by this hand !

§ 63. Exercises in Force. (See $ 36.)

The following Exercises require the loudest vocal Force and highest Pitch.

1. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue! rescue!

The king enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring an opposite to every danger;
His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death;
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

2. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,

(Will they not hear?) — What, ho! you men, you beasts,
(That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains, issuing from your veins,)
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your movëd prince.

3. Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help;

Rise and revenge her slaughtered citizens;
Rouse up, for Shame! our brothers of Pharsalia

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