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Were kept in h'ostage; a full fie'ld pres'enting
For Scipio's gen'erosity/ to shine. A n'oble-virgin,
(Conspicuous fa'r/ o'er all the captive da'mes)
Was marked the genîeral’s-prize. She w'ept, and blus'hed;
Young, fres'h, and bloo'ming, like the mor'n. An e'ye,
As when the blue sky trembles through a cloud
Of purest white. A secret charm combined
Her fea'tures, and infused encha'ntment through-them.
Her shap'e was ha'rmony. But/ eloquence
Beneath her bea’uty fai'ls; which seem'ed! on purpose/
By na'ture la'vished-on-her, that mankind
Might see the vir'tue of a hero tr'ied
Almo'st beyond the stre'tch-of hu'man-force.
Soft as she passed alon'g/ with downcast ey’es,
(Where gentle sorrow swell'ed, and, no'w and the’n,
Dropped

o'er her modest cheeks/ a trickling te'ar)
The Roman l'egions lan'guished, and hard wa'r
Felt more than p°ity ; even their chief himself,
(As on his high tribu'nal raised he s'at)
Turned from the dangerous sig ht, a’nd (ch'iding) asked
His o'fficers, i'f/ by this gi'ft/ they meant
To clou'd-his-glory/ in its very daown.

She (questioned of her bi’rth) in trembling a'ccents
(With tears and blus'hes br'oken) told her tale.
But, when he found her ro‘yally-descended ;
Of her old captive parents/ the so'le-joy ;
And that a h’apless/ Celtibe'rian prin'ce,
(Her lo'ver, and beloved) forgot his chai'ns,
His lost domin'ions, and for her alon'e
Wept out his tender s'oul; sudden the hea'rt
Of this you'ng, co'nquering, lov'ing, godloike-Roman,
Felt all the great divi’nity of vir'tue.
His wishing yoʻuth stood che'cked, his tempting pow'er/,
Restr’ained/ by kind huma'nity:--At once
He for her pa'rents, and her lo'ver ca'lled.
The various sc'ene imagine.

How his troops it either ends a sentence, or occurs before a personal pronoun in the accusative case, when it assumes the broad sound ov.Example : “We never know the true value uv time till we are deprived ov it.” By, also, has been considered as subject to a double sound, as if written be, but this pronunciation is only admissible in the lighter species of composition, or in familiar conversation ; as, be the by (" by the by.")

Looked dubious o'n, and wondered what he me'ant; While stretched below, the trembling suppliants lay', Racked by a thousand mingling pas'sions—fea'r, Hope, jealousy, disdai'n, subm'ission, grief, Anxi'ety, and lo've/ in every shap'e. To thes'e, as different sentiments succee'ded, As mixed emo'tions, when the man divi'ne Thu's the dread si'lence/ to the lo’ver bro'ke : “We both are yo’ung ; both char'med. The right of w'ar/ “ Has put thy beauteous mi'stress/ in my power; “ With whom I co’uld (in the most sa cred ti’es) “ Live out a happy li'fe. But know, that Roomans, “ Their hea‘rts, as well as eụnemies, can coʻnquer. “ Then take her to thy so'ul ; and, with-her, take “Thy li'berty and kingdom. In retu'rn/ “I ask but thi's—when you behold these ey'es, These charms/ with tra'nsport, be a frie'nd/ to Rom'e."Ecstatic wo'nder held the lovers mu'te ; While the loud cam'p, and all the clust'ering cro'wd/ That hung aro'und, rang with repeated sho'uts. Fam'e took the alar'm, and, through resounding Spai'n/ Blew fast the fair repoʻrt; whi'ch, mo're than armos, Admi'ring na'tions/ to the R'omans gain'ed.

SPEECH OF ROLLA.

KOTZEBUE.-SHERIDAN. My brave assoc'iates-par’tners of my to'il, my feel'ings, and my fa'me! Can Rolla's words/ add vigour to the virtuous en'ergies, which inspire your he’arts ? No';— yo'u have judgʻed (as I have the foulness of the crafty pl'ea/ by which these bold inv'aders/ would delude-you.

Your generous spi'rit has comp'ared (as mine h'as) the mot'ives/ wh'ich (in a war like th'is) can animate their minds and ours. They (by a strange frenzy dr'iven) fight for po'wer, for plun'der, and exte'nded-rule ; — w'el for our coʻuntry, our a'ltars, and our hom'es. They/ follow an adve'nturer/ whom they fear, and ob'ey a po'wer which they hʼate ;-w'el serve a mo'narch/ whom we love',

',-a Good whom we adoʻre. When'e'er they move in anʼger/ desolation/ tracks their pro'gress! Wher'e'er they pause in a'mity, afl'iction/ mourns their friendship. They boa'st, they com'e but to impr'ove our sta'te, enla’rge our thoughts, and fr'ee-us/ from the yok'e of er’ror! Ye's they will give enlightened freedom to our min'ds, who are themsel^ves the slaves of pa’ssion, a'varice, and pri'de. They offer us their protection—Ye's, su`ch protection, as vu^ltures give to lam°bs — co'vering and devou`ring-them. They call on us to baʼrter all of goo'd/ we have inherited and pr'oved, for the desperate cha'nce of something better/ which they pro'mise. Be our plain a'nswer thi's : The throne/ we ho'nour) is the people's choi'ce; the law's, we re'verence/ are our brave fa'thers' le gacy ;-the faith / we folʻlow/ teach'es-us/ to live in bon'ds of cha'rity/ with al'l manki'nd, and di'e/ with hop'e of bl’iss/ beyoʻnd the grav'e. Te'll your invaders th'is, and tell them too, we see'k no cha'nge ; a'nd/ leas't of a'll/, such cha'nge, as they would bri'ng-us.

WOLSEY AND CROMWELL.

SHAKSPEARE.
Wol. Farewe'll, a lonog-farewell/ to all my greatness !
Th'is/ is the state of ma'n ; to-da'y/ he puts forth
The tender leaves of ho'pe; to-moorrow/ blossoms,
And bears his blushing hoʻnours/ thick upo'n him ;
The thirod-day comes a fros't~(a kil·ling-frost),
And/ when he thi’nks (good easy msan) full surely
His greatness is a ri'pening, nip's his sh'oot ;
And the'n/ hoe falls, as I'-do. I have veľntured,
(Like little wanton boy's, that swim on bladders)
These

many sum'mers/ in a sea of glory;
But fa'r/ beyond my d'epth : my high-blown pr'ide/
At lenʼgth/ broke un'der me; and now has le’ft-me
(Weary and old with service) to the mercy
Of a rude str'eam, that must for e’ver hide'-me.
Vain po'mp and glo'ry of the world, I hat'e ye !
I feel my hea'rt new op'ened. Oh, how wretched
Is tha't-poor-man/ that hangs on prinoces’-favours !
There is', (betwixt that smile he would aspir'e to,
That sweet aspect of prin'ces, and his r’uin,)
More pan'gs and fear's/ than wa'r or woʻmen-have ;

At

And/ when he f'alls, he falls like Luocifer,
Nev'er to h'ope agai'n.
Wh'y, how n'ow, Cro'mwell ?

Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir.
Wol. Wh'at! amaz'ed

my misfoʻrtunes ? Can thy* spirit wonder
A great ma'n/ should decʻline 2-Na'y, if you weep,
I'm falʻlen indeed.

Crom. How do'es your Grace ?

Wol. W'hy, we'll ;
Never so tru'ly happy (my good Cro'mwell.)
I know myself noow, and I feel with’in me
(A pe'ace/ above all eart'hly di'gnities) ;
A st’ill, and qui'et-conscience. The kin'g/ has cur'ed me ;
I humbly tha’nk his Gra'ce; and, from these shoʻulders,
These ruined pil'lars/, out of pity taken
(A load would sink a n°avy) too much hon`our.
O, 'tis a b'urden, (Cro'mwell) 'tis a bu'rden
Too heavy for a man/ that hopes for hea'ven !
Crom. I'm glad

your Gra'ce/ has made that right-u'se o'f-it. Wol. I hope I ha've ; I'm able no'w, meth'inks, (Out of a fortitude of soul I fe'el) To endure mor'e-miseries, and grea°ter-far, Than my weak-hearted e'nemies/ dare o'ffer.

we say,

* “Thy.” Of the pronunciation(t) of this possessive pronoun, the following rule may be observed : When the subject is raised, or the person dignified, it ought always to be pronounced so as to rhyme with high ; but, when the subject is familiar, or the person we address without dignity or importance, it may slide into the familiar sound of the : thus,

“Give me the (thy) hand ;” “Mind the (thy) book," &c. (t) There are few English words more frequently mispronounced than the word pronunciation. A mere English scholar, who considers the word to pronounce as the root of it, cannot easily conceive why the o is thrown out of the second syllable; and, therefore, to correct the mistake, sounds the word as if written pronounciation. Those who are sufficiently learned to escape this error, by understanding that the word comes to us either from the Latin pronunciatio, or the French prononciation, are very apt to fall into another, by sinking the first aspiration, and pronouncing the third syllable like the noun sea. But these speakers ought to observe, that, throughout the whole language, c, s, and t, preceded by the accent, either primary or secondary, and succeeded by ea, ia, io, long u, or any similar diphthong, always become aspirated, and are pronounced as if written ske. Thus the same reasons that oblige us to pronounce partiality, propitiation, especially, &c. as if written parsheality, propisheashun, espeshally, &c. oblige us to pronounce pronunciation as if written pronunsheashun.

What ne'ws abro'ad ?

Crom. The heaviest and the wor'st I's/ your disple'asure with the king.

Wol. Gʻod ble'ss-him !

Crom. The n'ext is, that Sir Thomas Moʻre/ is chosen L'ord Ch’ancellor/ in you'r-place.

Wol. Th'at's somewhat su'ddenB'ut/ he's a lea'rned-man. May he continue Long in his Highness' fav'our, and do ju'stice (For truth's sa'ke and his co'nscience ;) that his b'ones When he has run his cou'rse, and sleeps in ble'ssings) May have a tomb of or'phans' tears/ wep't-on-them ! What mor'e ?

Crom. That Cr'anmer/ is returned with we'lcome ; Installed/ Lor'd Arch'bishop of Can'terbury.

Wol. Tha’t’s news/ inde^ed !

Crom. La'st, that the Lady A'nne,
(Whom the King hath in secrecy long m'arried,)
This day was vi'ewed in o'pen/ as his Qu'een,
Go'ing to ch'apel; and the voic'e is n'ow
Only aboʻut her corona'tion.
Wol. There was the we'ight/ that pulled me dow'n :

O Crom'well !
The kin'g/ has gone beyo'nd me; all my gloʻries
(In th`at/ onoe-woman) I have lo'st for e'ver!
No sun shall ever usher fo‘rth my ho'nours,
Or gild aga'in/ the no'ble-troops/ that waited

s'miles. Go', get thee fr'om me, Cro'mwell; I am a poor/ fa'llen-man, unworthy now' To be thy lo‘rd and m'aster. Seek the ki'ng, (Thoat-sun/ I pra'y may ne'ver-set,) I've toʻld him Wh'at, and how true thou art ; h'e will advan'ce-thee; Some little memory of me will stir-him, (I know his noble n'ature), not to let Th`y-hopeful-service/ perish to'o. Good Cr'omwell, Negle'ct him not; make use n'ow, and provi'de For thine o'wn/ future sa fety.

Crom. O
Must I then lea've-you ? Must I needs foʻrego
So go'od, so no'ble, and so tru`e a maʼster ?
Bear wi’tness (all that have not hearts of iroon)
With what a so'rrow/ Crom'well leaves his Loʻrd.

Upon my

my Lor'd !

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