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protecting arm over the oppressed. I know, indeed, little of the philosophy you talk of, but I believe neither you nor I shall ever atone to the world for half the mischief we have done it.
Alex. Leave me. Take off his chains, and use him well. Are we then so much alike? Alexander like a robber? Let me reflect.
Lines written in 1821; on hearing that the Austrians had entered Naples with scarcely a show of resistance on the part of the Neapolitans, who had declared their independence, and pledged themselves to maintain it.-MOORE,
Ay, down to the dust with them, slaves as they are!
From this hour let the blood in their dastardly veins,
Be sucked out by tyrants, or stagnate in chains!
From each slave-mart in Europe, and poison their shore.
And deep, and more deep, as the iron is driven,
They had once in their reach,-that they might have been free.
Shame! shame! when there was not a bosom, whose heat
And send back its prayers with your Liberty's start! ...
But waited one conquering word to flash out! ...
When around you the shades of your mighty in fame,
Over Freedom's apostles-fell kindling on you!...
Good God! that in such a proud moment of life,
Between freemen and tyrants had spread through the
That then-O, disgrace upon manhood! e'en then
It is strange !—it is dreadful! Shout, Tyranny, shout
And return to your empire of darkness once more.
Come, Despot of Russia, thy feet let me kiss :-
Than sully even chains by a struggle like this.
Soliloquy of Macbeth, when going to murder Duncan, king of
Is this a dagger, which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee:-
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
And on thy blade, and dudgeon,* gouts† of blood,
Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world,
Whose howl's his watch, thus, with his stealthy pace,
Dialogue from Macbeth.-SHAKSPEARE
SCENE.-MALCOLM and MACDUFF, in the king's palace in England;-Enter ROSSE from Scotland.
Macduff. See, who comes here?
Malcolm. My countryman; but yet I know him not.
Mal. I know him now: Good God, betimes remove
Rosse. Sir, Amen.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?
Rosse. Alas, poor country;
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Be called our mother, but our grave: where nothing,
Is there scarce asked, for who; and good men's lives
*Haft, handle. + Drops. [gouttes, French.] "Gut for drop is still used in Scotland by physicians." Johnson. The diphthong ou in gouts has the sound of oo, as in croup and group.
Macd. O, relation,
Too nice, and yet too true!
Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;
Each minute teems a new one.
Macd. How does my wife?
Rosse. Why, well.
Macd. And all my children?
Rosse. Well too.
Macd. The tyrant has not battered at their peace ? Rosse. No; they were well at peace, when I did leave them. Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes it? Rosse. When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour Of many worthy fellows that were out; Which was to my belief witnessed the rather, For that I saw the tyrant's power afoot: Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland Would create soldiers, make our women fight, To doff their dire distresses.
Mal. Be it their comfort,
We are coming thither: gracious England hath
Rosse. Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words,
The general cause? or is it a fee-grief,t
Rosse. No mind, that's honest,
But in it shares some wo; though the main part
Macd. If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Macd. Humph! I guess at it.
A grief that has a single owner. This interjection, implying doubt and deliberation, and more co rectly written hum, is sounded inarticulately, with the lips closed.
Rosse. Your castle is surprised; your wife, and babes, Savagely slaughtered: to relate the manner, Were, on the quarry of these murdered deer, To add the death of you.
Mal. Merciful heaven!
What! man, ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.
Macd. And I must be from thence !
My wife killed too!
Rosse. I have said.
Mal. Be comforted:
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty ones?
What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,
Mal. Dispute it like a man.
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.-Did heaven look on
Fell slaughter on their souls :-Heaven rest them now!
Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
Mal. This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may;
The night is long, that never finds the day.