And, bursting at thy feet, this heart will prove Saladin. That were an end Too noble for a traitor! The bowstring is A more appropriate finish! Thou shalt die! Malek Adhel. And death were welcome at another's mandate ! What, what have I to live for? Be it so, If that, in all thy armies, can be found Saladin. O, doubt it not! They're eager for the office. Perfidy, So black as thine, effaces from their minds All memory of thy former excellence. Malek Adhel. Defer not, then, their wishes. Saladin, If e'er this form was joyful to thy sight, This voice seemed grateful to thine ear, accede Saladin. This very hour! [Aside.] For, O, the more I look upon that face, And vengeance it shall have! What, ho! who waits there? Attendant. Did your Highness call? Saladin. Assemble quickly [Enter Attendant.] My forces in the court. Tell them they come To view the death of yonder bosom traitor. And, bid them mark, that he who will not spare His brother when he errs, expects obedience, Silent obedience, from his followers. [Exit Attendant.] The word is given; I have nothing more About to crave a miserable life. Without thy love, thy honor, thy esteem, Life were a burden to me. Think not, either, The justness of thy sentence I would question. The last request which e'er was his to utter Thy harshness made him carry to the grave? Saladin. Speak, then; but ask thyself if thou hast reason To look for much indulgence here. Malek Adhel. I have not! Yet will I ask for it. We part forever; This is our last farewell; the king is satisfied; O, torturing recollection !-one kind word From the loved tongue which once breathed naught but kindness Of all my youthful sports !-are they forgotten?- Smile at my agonies! nor hear that voice Pronounce my doom, which would not say one word, Would soothe the struggles of departing life! Saladin. [Seizing his hand.] Brother! brother! Malek Adhel. [Breaking away.] Now call thy followers; Death has not now A single pang in store. Procced! I'm ready. Saludin. O, art thou ready to forgive, my brother? To pardon him who found one single error, Malek Adhel. O, stay thee, Saladin ! Cries loudly for the blood of Malek Adhel. Pleased by my fate to add one other leaf To thy proud wreath of glory. [Going.] Saladin. Thou shalt not. [Enter Attendant.] Attendant. My lord, the troops assembled by your order Tumultuous throng the courts. The prince's death Not one of them but vows he will not suffer. The mutes have fled; the very guards rebel. shalt. Attendant. Mine? Never! [To Attendant.] Thine The other first shall lop it from the body. Saladin. They teach the Emperor his duty well. Tell them he thanks them for it. Tell them too, That ere their opposition reached our ears, I haste to gladden many a gallant heart, Saladin. These men, the meanest in society, O, these can cast aside their vowed allegiance, Call back one danger which thou hast not shared, When death seemed certain, only uttered-" Brother!" Malek Adhel. By these tears, I can! O brother! from this very hour, a new, My heart, my soul, my sword, are thine forever! EXERCISE LXXIX. JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, the great American ornithologist, was born on a plantation in Louisiana, May 4th, 1780, and died in New York city, January 27th, 1851. His early childhood was marked by a passion for the study of birds. He soon acquired skill in drawing their forms, and went early to France to perfect himself in that art. On his return, after marrying a lady of congenial tastes, he entered upon other pursuits, as a business; giving himself largely, however, to the study of birds, as a pleasure. But the birds happily got the mastery, and thenceforward absorbed his whole time and attention. With what zest he pursued his inquiries, the following extract will show. The results of his labors he has embodied in two splendid works— "Birds of America" and "Ornithological Biographies"-works which fully entitle him to the grateful and lasting remembrance of all his countrymen THE LIFE OF A NATURALIST. JOHN JAMES AUDUBON. 1. Reader, the life which I have led has been in some respects a singular one. Think of a person, intent on such pursuits as mine have been, aroused at early dawn from his rude couch on the alder-fringed brook of some northern valley, or in the midst of some yet unexplored forest of the west, or, perhaps, on the soft and warm sands of the Florida shores, and listening to the pleasing melodies of songsters innumerable, saluting the magnificent orb, from whose radiant influence the creatures of many worlds receive life and light. 2. Refreshed and re-invigorated by healthful rest, he starts upon his feet, gathers up his store of curiosities, buckles on his knapsack, shoulders his trusty firelock, says a kind word to his faithful dog, and recommences his pursuit of zoological knowledge. Now the morning is spent, and a squirrel or a trout affords him a repast. Should the day be warm, he reposes for a time under the shade of some tree. The woodland choristers again burst forth into song, and he starts anew to wander wherever his fancy may direct him, or the objects of his search may lead him in pursuit. 3. When evening approaches, and the birds are seen betaking themselves to their retreats, he looks for some place of safety, erects his shed cf green boughs, kindles his fire, prepares his |