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The groans that issue, or the tears that fall;
They disobey me; on the rack I scorn thee,
As when my falchion clove thy helm in battle.

Alv. Peace, villain'

Zan. While I live, old man, I'll speak :
And, well I know, thou dar’st not kill me yet;
For that would rob thy blood-hounds of their prey.

Alon. Who called Alonzo ?
Alv. No one called, my son.

Alon. Again! 'Tis Carlos' voice, and I obey.
Oh, how I laugh at all that this can do! [Shows the dagger.
The wounds that pained, the wounds that murdered me,
Were given before; I am already dead;
This only marks my body for the grave. [Stabs himself.
Afric, thou art revenged, -Oh, Leonora ! [Dies.

Zan. Good ruffians, give me leave; my blood is yours, The wheel's prepared, and you shall have it all. Let me but look one moment on the dead, [Alonzo's body. And pay yourselves with gazing on my pangs. [He goes to Is this Alonzo? Where's the haughty mien ? Is that the hand which smote me? Heavens, how pale ! And art thou dead? So is my enmity. I war not with the dust. The great, the proud, The

conqueror of Afric, was my foe. A lion preys not upon carcasses. This was the only method to subdue me. Terror and doubt fall on me : all thy good Now blazes, all thy guilt is in the grave. Never had man such funeral applause : If I lament thec, sure thy worth was great. O vengeance, I have followed thee too far, And to receive me, hell blows all her fires. [Exeunt. William Mason.

CARACTACUS,

Awfulness of a Scene of Pagan Rites.
This is the secret centre of the isle :
Here, Romans, pause, and let the eye of wonder
Gaze on the solemn scene ; behold

yon

oak,
How stern he frowns, and with his broad brown arms
Chills the pale plain beneath him: mark yon altar,
The dark stream brawling round its rugged base ;
These cliffs, these yawning caverns, this wide circus,
Skirted with unhewn stone; they awe my soul,
As if the very genius of the place
Himself appeared, and with terrific tread
Stalked through his drear domain.

friends, If shapes like his be but the fancy's coinage, Surely there is a hidden power that reigns 'Mid the lone majesty of untamed Nature, Controlling sober Reason; tell me else, Why do these haunts of barbarous Superstition O’ercome me thus ? I scorn them; yet they awe me.

And yet, my

ELFRIDA.

Against Homicide.
Think what a sea of deep perdition whelms
The wretch's trembling soul, who launches forth
Unlicensed to eternity. Think, think,
And let the thought restrain thy impious hand.
The race of man is one vast marshalled army,

Summoned to pass the spacious realms of time,
Their leader the Almighty. In that march,
Ah! who may quit his post ? when high in air
The chosen archangel rides, whose right hand wields
The imperial standard of Heaven's providence,
Which, dreadful sweeping through the vaulted sky,
O'ershadows all creation.

Richard Glover.

BOADICEA,

Solitude on a Battle-Field.
I have been led by solitary care
To

yon dark branches, spreading o'er the brook
Which murmurs through the camp; this mighty camp,
Where once two hundred thousand sons of war,
With restless dins, awaked the midnight hour.
Now horrid stillness in the vacant tents
Sits undisturbed ; and these incessant rills,
Whose pebbled channel breaks their shallow stream,
Fill with their melancholy sounds my ears,
As if I wandered, like a livrely hind,
O’er some dead fallow, far f om all resort :
Unless that ever and anon a groan
Bursts from a soldier, pillowed on his shield
In torment, or expiring with his wounds,
And turns my fixed attention into horror.

Forgiveness. So

prone to error is our mortal frame, Time could not step without a trace of horror,

If wary nature on the human heart,
Amid its wild variety of passions,
Had not impressed a soft and yielding sense,
That when offences give resentment birth,
The kindly dews of penitence may raise
The seeds of mutual mercy and forgiveness.

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Fortitude. .. But, prince, remember then The vows, the noble tears of affliction; Preserve the quick humanity it gives, The pitying, social sense of human weakness ; Yet keep thy stubborn fortitude entire. The manly heart that to another's woe Is tender, but superior to its own. Learn to submit, yet learn to conquer fortune; Attach thee firmly to the virtuous deeds And offices of life; to life itself, With all its vain and transient joys, sit loose. Chief, let devotion to the sovereign mind, A steady, cheerful, absolute dependence In his best, wisest government, possess thee. In thoughtless gay prosperity, when all Attends our wish, when naught is seen around us But kneeling slavery, and obedient fortune; Then are blind mortals apt within themselves To fly their stay, forgetful of the Giver ;

But when thus humbled, Alfred, as thou art,
When to their feeble natural powers reduced,
'Tis then they feel this universal truth,
That Heaven is all in all, and man is nothing.

Henry Brooke.

GUSTAVUS VASA; OR, THE DELIVERER OF HIS

COUNTRY.

GustavUS VASA, King of Sweden, escapes from the hands of CHRIS

TIERN, King of Denmark (who had reduced Sweden), and prevails upon the Dalecarlians to throw off the Danish yoke. He finally over

throws the Usurper, and delivers his Country. Mountains of Dalecarlia.-Enter Gustavus as a peasant;

SIVARD and Dalecarlians following.
Gust. Ye men of Sweden, wherefore are ye come?
See ye not yonder, how the locusts swarm,
To drink the fountains of

your
honour

up,
And leave your hills a desert ? Wretched men !
Why came ye forth? Is this a time for sport?
Or are ye met with song and jovial feast,
To welcome your new guests, your Danish visitants ?
To stretch your supple necks beneath their feet,
And fawning lick the dust ?-Go, go, my countrymen,
Each to your several mansions ; trim them out;
Cull all the tedious earnings of your toil,
To purchase bondage. Bid your blooming daughters,
And

your chaste wives, to spread their beds with softness ; Then go ye forth, and with your proper hands Conduct your masters in; conduct the sons

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