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Cæsar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did. 4 The torrent roared ; and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews; throwing it aside
Is now become a god; and Cassius is
If Cæsar carelessly but ned on him.
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 6 Alas! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius,
As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
Brutus.—Another general shout!
To find ourselves dishonorable graves.
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; 8 Weigh them, it is as heavy ; conjure them,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
That her wide walks encompassed but one man ? *9 Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man.
The Hospitable Negro Woman. 1 The enterprising traveller, Mungo Park, was employed, by the African Association, to explore the interior regions of Africa. In this hazardous undertaking, he encountered many dangers and difficulties. His wants were often supplied, and his distresses alleviated, by the kindness and compassion of the negroes. He gives the following lively and interesting account of the hospitable treatment he received from a poor negro woman :
“ Being arrived at Sego, the capital of the kingdom of Bambarra, situated on the banks of the Niger, I wished to 2 pass over to that part of the town in which the king resides : but, from the number of persons eager to obtain a passage, I was under the necessity of waiting two hours. During this time, the people who had crossed the river, carried information to Mansong, the king, that a white man was waiting for a passage, and was coming to see him. He immediately sent over one of his chief men, who informed me that the king could not possibly see me, until he knew what had brought me into his country; and that I must not presume to cross the river without the king's permission. 3 le therefore advised me to lodge, for that night, at a distant
village to which he pointed; and said that, in the morning, he would give me further instructions how to conduct myself.
“This was very discouraging. However, as there was no remedy, I set off for the village ; where I found, to my great mortification, that no person would admit me into his : house. From the prejudices infused into their minds, I was regarded with astonishment and fear; and was obliged
to sit the whole day without victuals, in the shade of a 4 tree.
“ The night threatened to be very uncomfortable ; for the wind rose, and there was great appearance of a heavy rain : the wild beasts too were so numerous in the neighborhood, that I should have been under the necessity of climbing up the tree, and resting among the branches. About sunset, however, as I was preparing to pass the night in this manner, and had turned my horse loose, that he might graze at liberty, a negro woman, returning from
the labors of the field, stopped to observe me; and perceiv5 ing that I was weary and dejected, inquired into my situation. I briefly explained it to her ; after which, with looks of great compassion, she took up my saddle and bridle, and told me to follow her. Having conducted me into her hut, she lighted a lamp, spread a mat on the floor, and told me I miglit remain there for the night. - Finding that I was very hungry, she went out to procure me something to eat; and returned in a short time with a very fine fish, which, having caused it to be half broiled upon some embers, she
gave me for supper. 6 “ The rites of hospitality being thus performed towards
a stranger in distress, my worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep there without apprehension) called to the female part of her family, who had stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to resume their task of spinning cotton; in which they continued to employ themselves great part of the night. They lightened their labor by songs, one of which was composed extempore : for I was myself the subject of it. It
was sung by one of the young women, the rest joining in 7 a sort of chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally translated, were these :
“The winds roared and the rains fell.-The poor white * man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree.--He
has no mother to bring him milk ; no wife to grind his corni. Chorus. Let us pity the white man : no mother has he to bring him milk ; no wife to grind his corn."*
* These simple and pathetic sentiments, have been very beautifully versified and expanded by the duchess of Devonshire. The following is a copy of this little interesting piece of poetry :
1 The loud wind roared, the rain fell fast;
The white man yielded to the blast,
For him the milk or corn prepare.
And mercy's voice has hush'd the blast;
Our fondest boast;
• A fearless host:
No slave is here—our unchained feet
To seek this shore;
They sternly bore
3 Hail to the morn, when first they stood
On Bunker's height,
In desperate fight!
4 There is no other land like thee,
No dearer shore;
Till time is o’er.
5 Thou art the firm, unshaken rock
On which we rest;
And free the oppressed :
Are blest. .