O'er rock and cave and wilderness he wanders sorrowful, As roams in exile from the herd some solitary bull: Those central powers oracular he cannot shun, for they With never-flagging energy still hover round the prey.

FROM MACBETH.

Is this a dagger, which I see before me,

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee:

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible

To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but

A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressèd brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still:

And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,

Ceu taurus exul, tristis obambulat;

Vocemque frustra sperat Apollinis

Vitare, quæ circum minaci

Imminet irrequieta pennâ.

THE SAME TRANSLATED.

Η φάσγανον πάροιθεν ὀμμάτων τόδε; κώπη πρόχειρος ἥδε μοι; μάρψωμεν οὖν. οὐ δῆτ ̓ ἔχω σε, καίπερ εἰσορῶν ἔτι· ἆρ ̓ οὐχὶ, φάσμα λυγρόν, ἅπτεσθαί σεθεν ἔξεστιν, ὥσπερ ὄμμασιν δεδορκέναι ; ἢ δόξα μοῦνον ἦσθα καὶ γέννημά τι ὀνειρόφαντον τῆς ἀλυούσης φρενός; καίτοι τὸ σὸν μόρφωμ ̓ ἐναργὲς ὧδέ ὅμοια τῷ νῦν σπωμένῳ προφαίνεται σύ μοι προδεικνυς ἥνπερ ἐστάλην ὁδὸν, τοίῳ τ ̓ ἔμελλον ἆρα χρήσασθαι βέλει. ἢ σῶμα πρὸς τἄλλ ̓ ὄμμα μωρίαν ἔφλει, ἢ παντός ἐστιν ἄξιον. βλέπω σε μὴν, κώπῃ τε καὶ κνώδουσιν αἱματόῤῥυτοι

μοι

Which was not so before.-There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business, which informs

Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleeper; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd Murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.-Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,

And take the present horror from the time,

Which now suits with it.-Whiles I threat, he lives; Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

I

go, and it is done; the bell invites me.

Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell

That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

θρόμβοι πρόσεισιν, οἵπερ οὐκ ἦσαν πάρος. μέμηνα. φονίων πλάσματ ̓ ἦν βουλευμάτων. σχεδόν τι πάνθ' ὅμοια τοῖς τεθνηκόσι τὰ χθόνια κεῖται, κακὰ δὲ τοὺς κοιμωμένους ὄνειρα λυπεῖ· νῦν δὲ τῇ χλωρᾷ Θεῷ μάγοι τελοῦσιν ἱερὰ, χώ ξηρὸς φονεὺς, λύκων ἐγερθεὶς νυκτερῶν βρυχήμασι, στείχει πρὸς ἔργον, τὸν ταχύπτερον πόδα σιγῇ πορεύων ὡς ἀναίματος σκιά. ὦ γῆς βέβαιον ἔδαφος, εἰσάκουε μὴ βαίνοντος ἴχνη τἀμὰ, μή με σοὶ λίθοι βοῶντες ἔνθα τυγχάνω τὸ καίριον φρικωδὲς ἀπελῶσ ̓· ἀλλὰ μέλλομεν τὸ δρᾷν· ζῇ κεῖνος· ἔργῳ δ', οὐ λόγῳ, μαχητέα. εἶμ ̓ οὖν, πεπράξεταί τε· κωδώνισμα γὰρ λέλακε ̇ βασιλεῦ, σοὶ δὲ μὴ κλύειν λέγω εἰς οὐρανὸν γάρ σ' ἢ τάχ ̓ εἰς ἅδην καλεί.

F

TRANSLATION FROM THE BACCHÆ OF EURIPIDES.

When the night revel-dance, Bacchus, shall I share,

Barefoot leap, toss my neck in the dewy air;

Like a deer young and gay

From the lawn chased away,
When the toils spread around
She hath clear'd with a bound,

Still with dogs and halloo

The fierce hunters pursue;

All by the river-side like a storm she flies,
For the deep wilderness, for the desert hies?

Who his foe vanquishes, he is blest indeed,
He is wise, God-beloved: sweet is honour's meed.
The Gods are slow to wrath,

Yet swerve not from their path;

With vengeance ever sure

They track the evil-doer,

The impious, the insane,

Who dares their power disdain :

Oft in long ambush hid wily snares they lay,

But at length, soon or late, circumvent the prey.