Page images
PDF
EPUB

Were kept in h'ostage; a full fie'ls pres'enting
For Scipio's gen'erosity/ to shine. A n'oble-virgin,
(Conspicuous fa'r/ o'er all the captive daʼmes)
Was marked the gen'eral's-prize. She wept, and blus'hed;
Youn'g, 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 heộro tr'ied
Almo'st beyond the stre'tch-of hu'man-force.
Soft as she passed along/ with downcast ey’es,
(Where gentle sorrow swell'ed, and, no'w and the'n,
Dropped o'er her modest che'eks/ a trickling te'ar)

The Roman l'egions lan'guished, and hard wa'r
Felt more than přity; 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 dawn.

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 lover, and bel'oved) forgot his chai'ns,
His lost domin'ions, and for her alone
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 virtue.
His wishing yoʻuth stood checked, 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 : 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.”)

* We never

Looked dubious o'n, and wondered what he me'ant; While stretched belo'w, the trembling suppliants lay', Racked by a thousand mingling passions-fea'r, Ho'pe, jea lousy, disdai'n, subm'ission, grie'f, Anxi'ety, and lo've/ in every shape. 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 loʻver bro'ke : “ We both are yoʻung ; both char'med. The right of w'ar/ “ Has put thy beauteous mistress/ in my p'ower ; “ With who'm I coʻuld (in the most sacred

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 chaʻrms/ with transport, 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 alarm, and, through resounding Spai'n Blew fast the fair repo'rt; whi'ch, mo're than armos, Admi'ring na'tions/ to the Romans gained.

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';- you have judgʻed (as I have) the foulness of the crafty pl'ea) by which these bold invaders would delu de-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 mi'nds and ours. They (by a strange frenzy dr'iven) fight for po'wer, for plun'der, and exte'nded-rule ;- w

w'el for our co’untry, our a'ltars, and our hom'es. They follow an adve'nturer/ whom they fea'r, and ob'ey a po'wer/ which they h’ate ;-w'e) serve a mo'narch/whom we love',- - Good whom we adoʻre. When'e'er they move in an'ger/ desolation/ tracks their progress! Wher'e'er they pause in a'mity, affl'iction/ mourns their friendship. They boaʼst, they com'el but to impr'ove our sta'te, enla’rge our thoughts, and fr'ee-us/ from the yok'e of er'ror! Ye's ---the y will give enlightened freedom to our min'ds, who are themsel^ves the slaves of paʼssion, a'varice, and pri'de. They offer us their protection— Ye's, su'ch prote'ction, as vu^ltures give to lambs — co'vering and devou`ring-them. They call on us to baʼrter all of good/ we have inherited and pr'oved, for the desperate cha'nce of something be’tter/ which they pro'mise. Be our plain a'nswer thi's : The throne/ we ho'nour/ is the peoople's choi'ce; the law's/ we re'verence/ are our brave fa'thers' le'gacy ;-the faith/ we follow/ teach'es-us/ to live in bon'ds of cha'rity/ with all manki'nd, and di'e/ with hop'e of bl’iss/ beyo'nd the grave. Te'll your invaders this, and tell them too, we seek no change ; a'nd/ leas't of all), such cha'nge, as the’y/ would bri'ng-us.

WOLSEY AND CROMWELL,

SHAKSPEARE.
Wol. Farewe'll, a long-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/ blos'soms,
And bears his blushing ho'nours/ thick upon him ;
The thirod-day comes a fros't-(a kil^ling-frost),
And when he thi'nks (good easy m'an) full surely
His greatness is a ri'pening, nip's his sh'oot ;
And the'n/ hoe falls, as I'-do. I have ve'ntured,
(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 len'gth/ broke un'der me; and now has le'ft-me
(Weary and old with se'rvice) to the mercy
Of a rude str'eam, that must for e'ver hide'-me.
Vain po'mp and glory 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 woomen-have ;

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 At

my misfo'rtunes ? Can thy* spirit wonder A great ma'n/ should decʻline ?-Na'y, if you w'eep, I'm fallen indeed.

Crom. How do'es your Grace ?

Wol. Why, we'll ;
Never so truly ha’ppy (my good Cro'mwell.)
I know myself noow, and I feel with’in me
(A pe'ace/ above all earthly 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 t'aken
(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 hop'es for hea'ven !

Crom. I'm glad your Gra'ce/ has made that right-u'se of-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. * “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. (+) 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, propiliation, especially, &c. as if written parsheality, poropisheashun, espeshally, &c. oblige us to pronounce pronunciation as if written pronunsheashun.

we say,

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 Chancellor/ 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 ; Instalʻled/ Lord Archbishop of Can'terbury.

Wol. That's news/ indeed !

Crom. La'st, that the Lady A'nne,
(Whom the King hath in s'ecrecy 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 noble-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/ fu^ture safety.

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

Upon my

my Lor'd !

« PreviousContinue »