Retiring from the popular noise, I seek
This unfrequented place to find some ease,
Ease to the body some, none to the mind
From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm
Of hornets arm'd no sooner found alone,
But rush upon me thronging, and present
Times past, what once I was, and what am now. MILTON, Samson Agon.
Please you to hear me, Satraps;
And chiefly thou, my priest, because I doubt thee
More than the soldier; and would doubt thee all,
Wert thou not half a warrior; let us part
In peace-I'll not say pardon-which must be
Earned by the guilty; this I'll not pronounce ye,
Although upon this breath of mine depends
Your own and deadlier for ye, on my fears.
But fear not-for that I am soft, not fearful-
And so live on. Were I the thing some think me,
Your heads would now be dripping the last drops
Of their attainted gore from the high gates
Of this our palace, into the dry dust,
Their only portion of the coveted kingdom
They would be crowned to reign o'er-let that pass.
As I have said, I will not deem ye guilty,
Nor doom ye guiltless. Albeit better men
Than ye or I stand ready to arraign you;
And should I leave your fate to sterner judges,
And proofs of all kinds, I might sacrifice
Two men, who, whatsoe'er they now are, were
Once honest. Ye are free, Sirs !
But do not so: I have here five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
Which I did store, to be my foster nurse,
When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown;
Take that and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
All this I give you: Let me be your servant.
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty :
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my
blood;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly let me go with you;
I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.
Thou seest it with a love-lorn maiden's eyes.
Cast thine eye round, bethink thee who thou art;
Into no house of joyance hast thou stepp'd,
For no espousals dost thou find the walls
Deck'd out, no guests the nuptial garland wearing.
Here is no splendour but of arms. Or think'st thou
That all these thousands are here congregated
To lead up the long dances at thy wedding?
Thou seest thy father's forehead full of thought,
Thy mother's eye in tears: upon the balance
Lies the great destiny of all our house.
Leave now the puny wish, the girlish feeling,
Or thrust it far behind thee! Give thou proof,
Thou art the daughter of the Mighty-his
Who where he moves creates the wonderful.
Not to herself the woman must belong,
Annex'd and bound to alien destinies.
But she performs the best part, she the wisest,
Who can transmute the alien into self,
Meet and disarm necessity by choice;
And what must be, take freely to her heart,
And bear and foster it with mother's love.
Fond words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!
And thou hast had thy store of tenderest names;
The very sweetest words that fancy frames,
When thankfulness of heart is strong and deep!
Dear bosom-child we call thee, thou dost steep
In rich reward all suffering; balm that tames
All anguish; saint, that evil thoughts and aims
Takest away, and into souls dost creep,
Like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone,
I surely not a man ungently made,
Call thee worst tyrant by which flesh is crost?
Perverse, self-willed, to own and to disown,
Mere slave of them who never for thee prayed,
Still last to come where thou art wanted most!
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail;
There gloom the broad dark seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me;
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads-you and I are old:
Old age hath yet
his honour and his toil:
Death closes all;-but something, ere the end,
Some work of noble note may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows, for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by Time and Fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
VAL. How use doth breed a habit in a man!
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
Here can I sit alone, unseen of
any,
And to the nightingale's complaining notes
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
O thou that dost inhabit in my breast,
Leave not the mansion so long tenantless;
Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall,
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia :
Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!
What hallooing, and what stir, is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their wills their law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chase:
They love me well; yet I have much to do,
To keep them from uncivil outrages.
Withdraw thee, Valentine; who's this comes here? SHAKSPEARE, Two Gentlemen of Verona.
VAL. No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st Have some malignant power upon my life;
If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,
As ending anthem of my endless dolour.
PRO. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help,
And study help for that which thou lament'st.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that,
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence:
Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
The time now serves not to expostulate :
Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate;
And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs:
As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.
SHAKSPEARE, Two Gentlemen of Verona.
Alas! my mind's ill married to my body!
I would be young, be handsome, be beloved.
Could I but breathe myself into Adrastus,
Were but my soul in Edipus, I were king:
Then had I killed a monster, gained a battle,
And led my rival prisoner. Brave, brave actions !
Why have I not done these? my fortune hindered;
There 'tis. I have a soul to do them all;
But fortune will have nothing done that's great,
But by young, handsome fools. Body and brawn
Do all her work. Hercules was a fool,
And straight grew famous: a mad boisterous fool,
Nay worse, a woman's fool. Fool is the stuff
Of which heaven makes a hero.
Look, sister, ere the vapour dim thy brain :
Beneath is a wide plain of billowy mist,
As a lake, paving in the morning sky,
With azure waves which burst in silver light,
Some Indian vale. Behold it, rolling on
Under the curdling winds, and islanding
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