Chose freely what it now so justly rues. By act of grace my former state; how soon For never can true reconcilement grow deep; Which would but lead me to a worse relapse JOSEPH ADDISON CATO'S SOLILOQUY ON IMMORTALITY Calo-It must be so.- Plato, thou reasonest well, Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us, 'Tis Heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man. Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought! The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me; Through all her works, he must delight in virtue And that which He delights in must be happy. I'm weary of conjectures,—this must end 'em. Thus am I doubly armed. My death and life, The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN (England, 1751-1816) ROLLA'S ADDRESS TO THE PERUVIANS MY BRAVE associates, partners of my toils, my feelings, and my fame, can Rolla's words add vigor to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts? No; you have judged as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude ye. Your generous spirit has compared as mine has, the motives which in a war like this can animate their minds and ours. They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule; we-for our country, our altars, and our homes! They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate; we serve a country which we love a God whom we adore. Where'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress; where'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their friendship. They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error. Yes, they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection; yes, such protection as vultures give to lambs, covering and devouring them. They call on us to barter all of good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better which they promise. Be our plain answer this: The throne we honor is the people's choice; the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy; the faith we follow, teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind and die- with hope of bliss beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this, and tell them, too, we seek no change, and least of all, such change as they would bring us. -From "Pizarro." 1799 REV. GEORGE CROLY (Ireland, c. 1780-1860) CATILINE DEFIES THE SENATE Catiline-Conscript Fathers! I do not rise to waste the night in words; To take their share with me. Ay, cluster there! But this I will avow, that I have scorned, Of this huge, moldering monument of Rome, Come, consecrated Lictors, from your thrones; [To the Senate. Fling down your sceptres; take the rod and ax, And make the murder as you make the law! Banished from Rome! What's banished but set free From daily contact of the things I loathe? • Tried and convicted traitor!" Who says this? Who'll prove it, at his peril, on my head? Banished! I thank you for't. It breaks my chain ! MARY RUSSELL MITFORD (England, 1787-1855) RIENZI TO THE ROMANS Rienzi- Friends! I come not here to talk. Ye know too well Strong in some hundred spearmen; only great Or open rapine, or protected murder, Cry out against them. But this very day, Have ye brave sons?- Look in the next fierce brawl To see them die! Have ye fair daughters? - Look Be answered by the lash! Yet this is Rome, - From Rienzi, A Tragedy." 1828. GEORGE NOEL GORDON, LORD BYRON (England, 1788-1824) MANFRED'S SOLILOQUY Manfred-The spirits I have raised abandon meThe spells which I have studied baffle me The remedy I recked of tortured me: I lean no more on superhuman aid; It hath no power upon the past, and for The future, till the past be gulfed in darkness, It is not of my search. My mother earth! And thou, fresh-breaking day; and you, ye mountains, Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye. Art a delight-thou shin'st not on my heart. My breast upon its rocky bosom's bed I feel the impulse,- yet I do not plunge; I see the peril — yet do not recede : And my brain reels - and yet my foot is firm; If it be life to wear within myself My own soul's sepulcher; for I have ceased Whose happy flight is highest into heaven, How beautiful is all this visible world! But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mixed essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride. Contending with low wants and lofty will Till our mortality predominates, And men are- what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other. -From Manfred," Act I., Scene 2. JOHN HOWARD PAYNE (American, 1793-1852) LUCIUS JUNIUS BRUTUS OVER THE BODY OF LUCRETIA Brutus - Thus, thus, my friends, fast as our breaking hearts Permitted utterance, we have told our story; Ask ye what brings me here? Behold this dagger, By youthful fancy when the blood strays wild, How from the shade of those ill-neighboring plants Forgot its crutch, labor its task,- all ran; That beauteous flower,- that innocent sweet rose, Torn up by ruthless violence,- gone! gone! gone! Say, would ye seek instruction? Would ye ask ens The gods themselves,-shall justify the cry, EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER, LORD LYTTON (England, 1803-1873) RIENZI'S LAST APPEAL Rienzi-Ye come, then, once again! Come ye as slaves or freemen? A handful of armed men are in your walls; will ye, who chased from your gates the haughtiest knights-the most practiced battle men of Rome, succumb now to one hundred and fifty hirelings and strangers? Will ye arm for your tribune?-you are silent!- be it so! Will you arm for your own liberties, - your own Rome? - silent still! By the saints that reign on the throne of the heathen gods, are ye thus fallen from your birthright? Have you no arms for your own defense? Romans, hear me ! Have I wronged you?—if so, by your hands let me die; and then, with knives yet reeking with my blood, go forward against the robber who is but the herald of your slavery; and I die honored, grateful, and avenged. You weep! Aye, and I could weep, too-that I should live to speak of liberty in vain to Romans. Weep!- is this an hour for tears? Weep now, and your tears shall ripen harvests of crime, and license, and despotism, to come ! Romans, arm; follow me, at once, to the Place of the Colonna; expel this ruffian Minorbino, expel your enemy (no matter what afterwards you do to me);— or, I abandon you to your fate. What! and is it ye who forsake me, for whose cause alone man dares to hurl against me the thunders of his God, in this act of excommunication? Is it not for you that I am declared heretic and rebel? What are my imputed crimes?—That I have made Rome, and asserted Italy to be free! that I have subdued the proud magnates, who were the scourge both of pope and people. And you, you upbraid me with what I have dared and done for you! Men, with you I would have fought, for you I would have perished. You forsake yourselves in forsaking me; and, since I no longer rule over brave men, I resign my power to the tyrants you prefer. Seven months I have ruled over you, prosperous in commerce, — stainless in justice, -victorious in the field; I have shown you what Rome could be; and since I abdicate the government ye gave me, - when I am gone, strike for your own freedom! It matters nothing who is the chief of a brave and great people. Prove that Rome hath many a Rienzi, but of brighter fortunes. Heed me: I ride with these faithful few through the quarter of the Colonna, before the fortress of your foe. Three times before that fortress shall my trumpet sound; if at the third blast ye come not, armed as befits you, I say not all, but three, but two, but one hundred of ye, -I break up my wand of office, and the world shall say one hundred and fifty robbers quelled the soul of Rome, and crushed her magistrate and her laws! - From Rienzi. 1835 CHARLES DICKENS (England, 1812-1870) I en he had stamped his likeness upon a little boy. With this little boy, the only pledge of her departed exciseman, Mrs. Bardell shrunk from the world, and courted the retirement and tranquillity of Goswell Street; and here she placed in her front parlor window a written placard, bearing this inscription: "Apartments furnished for a single gentleman. Inquire within." treat the attention of the jury to the wording of this document,-" Apartments furnished for a single gentleman!" Mrs. Bardell's opinions of the opposite sex, gentlemen, were derived from a long contemplation of the inestimable qualities of her lost husband. She had no fear-she had no distrust she had no suspicion,-all was confidence and reliance. Mr. Bardell," said the widow, "Mr. Bardell was a man of honor - Mr. Bardell was a man of his word - Mr. Bardell was no deceiver Mr. Bardell was once a single gentleman himself; to single gentlemen I look for protection, for assistance, for comfort, and for consolation,-in single gentlemen I shall perpetually see something to remind me of what Mr. Bardell was, when he first won my young and untried affections; to a single gentleman, then, shall my lodgings be let." Actuated by this beautiful and touching impulse (among the best impulses of our imperfect nature, gentlemen), the lonely and desolate widow dried her tears, furnished her first floor, caught her innocent boy to her maternal bosom, and put the bill up in her parlor window. Did it remain there long? No. The serpent was on the watch, the train was laid, the mine was preparing, the sapper and miner were at work. Before the bill had been in the parlor window three days,-three days, gentlemen,-a Being, erect on two legs, and bearing all the outward semblance of a man, and not of a monster, knocked at the door of Mrs. Bardell's house. He inquired within; he took the lodgings; and on the very next day he entered into possession of them. This man was Pickwick,- Pickwick, the defendant. ... |