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XXXIII. SURPRISE AT UNEXPECTED EVENTS.
GONĘ to be married l gone to swear a peace! False blood to false blood join'di Gone to be friends! Shall Louis have Blanche ? and Blanche those provinces ? It is not so: Thou hast mis-spoke, mis-heard ; Be well adv tell o'er thy tale again : It cannot be ! thou dost but say, 'tis so: I trust, I may not trust thee; for thy word Is but the vain breath of a common man: Believe I do not believe thee, man ; I have a king's oath to the contrary. Thou shalt be punished for thus frighting me. What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head ? Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ? What means that hand upon that breast of thine ? Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheam, Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds ? Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words? Then speak again; not all thy former tale, But this one word, whether thy tale be true.
XXXIV.-AMAZEMENT AT STRANGE NEWS.
Old men and beldames, in the streets,
mouth swallowing a tailor's news ;
Heaven for his mercy! what a tide of woes
XXXVI.-VEXATION AT NEGLECTING ONE'S DUTY.
OH, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann d, Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit. And all for nothing ! For Hecuba! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have? He would drown the stage with tears, And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; Make mad the guilty, and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed, The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, Like John a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, And can say nothing—no, not for a king. Hamlet.
XXXVII.-MALICE AND REVENGE.
Merchant of Venice.
XXXVIII.-GRAVE DELIBERATION ON WAR AND PEACE.
FATHERS, we once again are met in council: Cæsar's approach has summon'd us together, And Rome attends her fate from our resolves. How shall we treat this bold aspiring man? Success still follows him, and backs his crimes: Pharsalia
gave him Rome: Egypt has since Receiv'd his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cæsar's. Why should I mention Juba's overthrow, Or Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should decree What course to take; our foe advances on us, And envies us even Lybia's sultry deserts. Fathers, pronounce your thoughts; are they still fix'd To hold it out and fight it to the last? Or are your hearts subdu'd at length, and wrought, By time and ill success, to a submission ? Cato.
But wherefore do you droop? Why look you
sad? Be great in act as you have been in thought; Let not the world see fear and sad distrust Govern the motion of a kingly eye: Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire; Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow Of bragging horror: 'so shall inferior eyes, That borrow their behaviours from the great, Grow great by your example; and put on The dauntless spirit of resolution; Show boldness and aspiring confidence: What I shall they seek the lion in his den ? And fright him there ? and make him tremble there?
Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen!
We shall insert here, as being the most appropriate place, Collins's celebrated “Ode on the Passions."
WHEN Music, heavenly maid I was young,