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“The war-that for a space did fail
Now trebly thundering swell’d the gale,

And—Stanley-was the cry.
A light on Marmion's visage spread,

And fired his glazing eye;
With dying hand above his head
He shook the fragment of his blade,
And shouted, Victory! Charge, Chester, charge!
On, Stanley, ON!'
Were the last words of Marmion."

The grave tones of voice are the antipodes of the orotund and falsetto, and are used in solemn and impressive styles, which are more difficult to acquire. The transition of the voice from the extreme upper tones of the falsetto to a full low register in many instances is productive of marvelous rhetorical effects, and repays the student for the labor of acquiring such power.

“The world was void;
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless,-herbless,-treeless,---manless,-lifeless ;-
A lump-of death;—a chaos—of hard clay.
The rivers,-lakes,--and ocean-all stood still;
And nothing stirr'd-within their silent depths.
Ships, sailorless,-lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropp'd,
They slept on the abyss without a surge.
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave;-
The moon, their mistress, had expired before;
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air;
And the clouds perished.-Darkness had no need
Of aid from them;-she-was the UNIVERSE."

“But Linden saw another sight,
When the drum beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light

The darkness of her scenery.”

Example of ascent from the grave tones of voice into the orotund, ending in the falsetto:

“The combat deepens;-on, ye brave,
Who rush to glory, or the grave!
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave!
And charge with all thy chivalry!"

Tremor of voice is produced by a retention of the volume of air in the larynx, with the glottis sufficiently contracted to prevent an even escape of sound. The escaping air playing upon the chords of the glottis, and this double vibratory force reaching the sounding-board above, gives a tremulous or wavy sound of the voice, corresponding somewhat to the trembling, buzzing sound produced in making the name-sound of z. But the difference between these is wide; the first being an emotional sound formed in the voice-chamber, the other an articulating sound made by the tongue and teeth. There are many emotions which can not be expressed without this effort. It is used in sorrow, in terror, and in distress of mind. Bestow much practice on the trilled words:

“Cromwell,-—I did not think-to shed a tear
In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play-the woman."

Queen Katharine said, in commending her daughter to Henry, "And a little to love her, for her mother's sake; who loved him-Heaven knows how dearly!”

That which gives beauty to all the qualities of the voice is feeling. We must feel what we say.

“Hark-I hear thy thunder's sound
Shake the forum-round-and round.
Shake the pillars of the earth!”

" Tried-and convicted—traitor - Who says this?
• Banish'd I'- I thank you for it.”

“ Unnerved, and now unsettled in his mind,
From long and exquisite pain, he sobs and cries,
Kissing the old man's cheek,— Help me,-my father!
Let me, I pray thee, - live once more among ye.
Let me go home.' "My son,' returns the Doge,
Obey.-Thy country wills it.'”

Hamlet. Oh! that this too, too solid flesh would melty
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew;
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on 't! O fie! 't is an unweeded garden,
That goes to seed; things rank, and gross in nature,
Possess it merely. That it should come to this !
But two months dead !--nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,

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Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother,
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on; and yet, within a month,-
Let me not think on 't.-Frailty, thy name is woman!
A little month; or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father's body,-
Like Niobe, all tears ;—why she, even she
(0 God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer)-married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules,—within a month;
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married.—Oh, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets !
It is not, nor it can not come to, good;
But break, my heart, for I must hold my tonguel

Pure whisper is the use of the aspirate-sounds without any mixture of voice. It is usually the language of fear and secrecy.

Macbeth. I have done the deed.–Didst thou not hear a noise ?

Lady Macbeth. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak ?

Lady M.


As I ascended ?
Lady M. Ay.

Who lies i' the second chamber?
Lady M.

Macb. This is a sorry sight.
Lady M. A foolish thought to say a sorry sight.

Examples of the grave voice falling occasionally in a half whisper:

“ Unseen hands-of spirits—are ringing his knell.

And the death-angel-flapshis broad wing o'er the wave.” " Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, --wondering, -fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whisper'd word, 'Lenore!'
This I whisper'd, and an echo murmur'd back the word, 'Lenore!'

Merely this, and nothing more.”


The following words uttered by Lady Macbeth must be given mostly in a prolonged half whisper, with a liberal use of rhetorical pauses :

Physician. How came she by that light?

Gent. Why, it stood by her; she has light by her continually; 't is her command.

Phy. You see, her eyes are open.
Gent. Ay,-but their sense is shut.
Phy. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands : I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.-
Phy. Hark! she speaks.

Lady M. Out, damned spot !-out, I say! One, two; why, then 't is time to do't! Hellis murky! Fie ---my lord, fie ! a soldier and afеard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power—to account? Yet—who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him ?

Phy. Do you mark that?

Lady M. The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What will these hands ne'er be clean? No more that, my lord, -no more o' that; you mar all with this starting.

Phy. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

Gent. She has spoken what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known.

Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still:-all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh-oh-oh!

Phy. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body."

Lady M. Wash your hands,-put on your night-gown; look not so pale: I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he can not come out of his grave.

Phy. Even so.

Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come, --come,come, -come, give me your hand : what's done can not be undone. To bed, to bed, -to bed.

Phy. Will she go now to bed ?
Gent. Directly.
Phy. More needs she the divine than the physician.



“Now storming fury rose, –
And clamor;-such as heard in heaven till noro
Was never; arms on armor clashing, brayed
Horrible discord; and the madding wheels
Of brazen chariots raged."

Him—the Almighty Power
Hurl'd headlong flaming from the ethereal sky,
With hideous rui and combustion_down
To bottomless perdition ;-there to dwell
In adamantine chains, and penal fire,
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms."

“Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks !-rage! blow !
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout

you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks! You—sulphurous and thought-executing fires, 'Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world !”

“So millions—are smit—with the glare of a toy:
They grasp at a pebbleand call it—a gem,
And tinsel-is gold (if it glitters) to them;
Hence, dazzled with beauty, the lover is smit;
The hero—with honor, the poet—with wit;
The fop—with his feather, his snuff-box and cane,
The nymph with her novel, the merchant with gain:
Each finical priest and polite pulpiteer,
Who dazzles the fancy, and tickles the ear
With exquisite tropes and musical style,
As gay as a tulip,-as polished as oil,
Sells truthat the shrine of polite eloquence,
To please the soft taste and allure the gay sense.

“High on a throne-of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and—of Ind, -
Or-where the gorgeous East with—richest hand-
Show'rs—on her kings—barbaric-pearl and gold, -
Satan exalted sat,—by merit raised
To that bad eminence,-and, from despair,
Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires
Beyond thus high,-insatiate to pursue
Vain war with Heaven."


“How sweet the moon-light sleeps upon this bank,
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music-
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night-
Become the touches of sweet harmony."

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