To parents who could doubt me? To the ring And whose reluctant courtesy I bore, Pale with proud anger, till from lips compress'd Answer to them? No! though my heart had burst Its stubborn boughs, till limbs once lightly strung Ad. Became one happy being. Days, weeks, months, In our delightful nest. My father's spies Slaves, whom my nod should have consign'd to stripes, Or the swift falchion-track'd our sylvan home, Just as my bosom knew its second joy, And, spite of fortune, I embraced a son. Ion. Urged by thy trembling parents to avert That dreadful prophecy. Ad. Fools! did they deem Its worst accomplishment could match the ill The ruffians broke upon us-seized the child- Of waters that shall cover him for ever; Ion. Ad. She spake no word; And lay her down to die! And the mother ?— but clasp'd me in her arms, Of love she fix'd on me-none other loved And so pass'd from hence. By Jupiter! her look— She lives again! She looks upon me now! There's magic in't. Bear with me-I am childish. Enter CRYTHES and GUARDS. Why art thou here? Cry. Ad. Dost thou not see that horrid purpose pass'd? Hast thou no heart-no sense? Cry. The dial points the hour. Scarce half an hour Hath flown since the command on which I wait. Ad. Scarce half an hour! Years, years have roll'd since then. Begone! Remove that pageantry of death; It blasts my sight: and hearken! Touch a hair Hence! without a word. [Exit CRYTHES. What wouldst thou have me do? Ion. Let thy awaken'd heart speak its own language! Ad. Well! I will seek their presence in an hour: Go summon them, young hero! Hold! no word Ad. Yet stay! He's gone-his spell is on me yet, Strike the rash brawler dead! What idle dream (By permission of Messrs. Moxon and Co.) SPEECHES AND SOLILOQUIES. DRAMATIC. 1.-HAMLET'S ADVICE TO THE PLAYERS. [See page 314.] SPEAK the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus; but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness. O! it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows, and noise; I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it outherods Herod; pray you avoid it. Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor : suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of which one must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O! there be players, that I have seen play-and heard others praise, and that highly-not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made them, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. Ŏ! reform it altogether. And let those, that play your clowns, speak no more than is set down for them for there be of them, that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though in the meantime some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. 393 2.-OTHELLO'S ADDRESS TO THE SENATE. SHAKSPEARE. [See page 314.] MOST potent, grave, and reverend signiors, Hath this extent, no more. Řude am Ĩ in my speech, And little of this great world can I speak, In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic (For such proceeding I am charged withal), I won his daughter. I do beseech you, Send for the lady to the Sagittary, And let her speak of me before her father: If you do find me foul in her report, The trust, the office, I do hold of you, Not only take away, but let your sentence Even fall upon my life. Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. And, till she come, as truly as to heaven I do confess the vices of my blood, So justly to your grave ears I'll present Her father loved me; oft invited me; I ran it through, even from my boyish days, Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach; And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, |