other's hand, 65
Then plunged into the angry flood, that bold and dauntless band.
High flew the spray above their heads, yet onward still they bore,
Midst cheer, and shout, and answering yell, and shot,
and cannon-roar,--
"Now, by the Holy Cross! I swear, since earth and sea began,
Was never such a daring deed essay'd by mortal man!" 70
Thick blew the smoke across the stream, and faster flash'd
the flame:
The water plash'd in hissing jets as ball and bullet came.
Yet onward push'd the Cavaliers all stern and undismay'd,
With thousand armed foes before, and none behind to aid
Once, as they near'd the middle stream, so strong
the torrent swept, 75
That scarce that long and living wall their dangerous footing kept.
Then rose a warning cry behind, a joyous shout before:
"The current's strong,--the way is long,--they'll never reach
the shore!
See, see! they stagger in the midst, they waver in their line!
Fire on the madmen! break their ranks, and whelm them
in the Rhine!" 80
Have you seen the tall trees swaying when the blast is sounding
shrill,
And the whirlwind reels in fury down the gorges of the hill?
How they toss their mighty branches struggling with
the tempest's shock;
How they keep their place of vantage, cleaving firmly to the rock?
Even so the Scottish warriors held their own against the river; 85
Though the water flashed around them, not an eye was seen to quiver;
Though the shot flew sharp and deadly, not a man relax'd his hold;
For their hearts were big and thrilling with the mighty thoughts
of old.
One word was spoken among them, and through the ranks it spread,--
"Remember our dead Claverhouse!" was all the Captain said. 90
Then, sternly bending forward, they wrestled on a while,
Until they clear'd the heavy stream, then rush'd toward the isle.
The German heart is stout and true, the German arm is strong;
The German foot goes seldom back where armed foemen throng.
But never had they faced in field so stern a charge before, 95
And never had they felt the sweep of Scotland's broad claymore.
Not fiercer pours the avalanche adown the steep incline,
That rises o'er the parent springs of rough and rapid Rhine,--
Scarce swifter shoots the bolt from heaven than came
the Scottish band
Right up against the guarded trench, and o'er it sword in hand. 100
In vain their leaders forward press,--they meet the deadly brand!
O lonely island of the Rhine,--where seed was never sown,
What harvest lay upon thy sands, by those strong reapers thrown?
What saw the winter moon that night, as, struggling through
the rain,
She pour'd a wan and fitful light on marsh, and stream,
and plain? 105
A dreary spot with corpses strewn, and bayonets glistening round;
A broken bridge, a stranded boat, a bare and batter'd mound;
And one huge watch-fire's kindled pile, that sent its
quivering glare
To tell the leaders of the host the conquering Scots were there.
And did they twine the laurel-wreath, for those who fought
so well? 110
And did they honour those who liv'd, and weep for those who fell?
What meed of thanks was given to them let aged annals tell.
Why should they bring the laurel-wreath,--why crown the cup
with wine?
It was not Frenchmen's blood that flow'd so freely on the Rhine,--
A stranger band of beggar'd men had done the venturous deed: 115
The glory was to France alone, the danger was their meed.
And what cared they for idle thanks from foreign prince and peer?
What virtue had such honey'd words the exiled heart to cheer?
What matter'd it that men should vaunt and loud and fondly swear,
That higher feat of chivalry was never wrought elsewhere? 120
They bore within their breasts the grief that fame
can never heal,--
The deep, unutterable woe which none save exiles feel.
Their hearts were yearning for the land they ne'er might
see again,--
For Scotland's high and heather'd hills, for mountains,
loch and glen--
For those who haply lay at rest beyond the distant sea, 125
Beneath the green and daisied turf where they would gladly be!
Long years went by. The lonely isle in Rhine's tempestuous flood
Has ta'en another name from those who bought it with their blood:
And, though the legend does not live,--for legends lightly die--
The peasant, as he sees the stream in winter rolling by, 130
And foaming o'er its channel-bed between him and the spot
Won by the warriors of the sword, still calls that deep
and dangerous ford
The Passage of the Scot.
--_William Edmondstoune Aytoun_
PREPARATORY.--Narrate briefly the events of this poem,
and show by a blackboard diagram the situation of the
island, the position of the armies, etc.
Into how many dramatic scenes can the poem be divided?
Describe each one, showing what part of the poem it
covers.
For exercise in dramatic rendering, see notes on
_Highland Hospitality_, pp. 153 and 154.
In what state of mind are the first two speakers?
Compare their speeches in this respect with the first
speech of the Scottish Captain--"I'VE SEEN A WILDER,"
ETC. What is the difference in Time, Pitch, and Stress?
3. RIVER'S SWEEP, FOE. Which is more emphatic? Compare
MAN and HORSE, l. 8.
10-12. Give some examples of Climax in the second stanza
and show how the Force and the Pitch are affected.
24. "HATH BOLD DUGUESCLIN'S," ETC. Supply the
undercurrent of thought between the first line of this
speech and the second. How is this suggested in reading?
(Introduction, p. 14.)
33. HE TURNED HIM TO HIS LITTLE BAND--O FEW, ETC. How
can the break in the thought be indicated?
(Introduction, pp. 8, 9, and 25.)
33-46. O FEW I WEEN ... NOT TURN AGAIN. What two
feelings predominate?
Compare the first part of the Captain's speech with the
second part from the standpoint of energy. What is the
difference in Force and Pitch? (Introduction, pp. 23 and
26.)
65. NO STAY,--NO PAUSE, ETC. What part does spontaneous
Imitation play here, and in the following stanza?
(Introduction, pp. 4 and 5.)
69. NOW, BY THE HOLY CROSS! ETC. Where should the
longest Pause be made in this line?
78. THE CURRENT'S STRONG, ETC. What are the Pitch,
Force, and Stress? (Introduction, pp. 22, 26, and 29.)
93. THE GERMAN HEART, ETC. Emphasis. (Introduction, p.
31.)
96. AND NEVER HAD THEY FELT, ETC. Note Grouping and
Pause.
99. SCARCE SWIFTER, ETC. What is the Stress? Why?
(Introduction, p. 28.)
101. IN VAIN. Note the transition at this line.
(Introduction, pp. 8, 9, and 25.)
113. WHY SHOULD THEY BRING, ETC. How does the voice
indicate the insincerity of thought in these lines?
(Introduction, pp. 21, 22, and 30.)
What Inflection is used on the various questions in this
and the preceding stanzas? (Introduction, pp. 18 and
19.)
127-133. Note the Grouping and the Shading.
(Introduction, p. 33.)
* * * * *
CRANFORD SOCIETY
From "Cranford"
In the first place, Cranford is in possession of the Amazons; all the
holders of houses above a certain rent are women. If a married couple
come to settle in the town, somehow the gentleman disappears; he is
either fairly frightened to death by being the only man in the
Cranford evening parties, or he is accounted for by being with his
regiment, his ship, or closely engaged in business all the week in the
great neighbouring commercial town of Drumble, distant only twenty
miles on a railway. In short, whatever does become of the gentlemen,
they are not at Cranford. What could they do if they were there? The
surgeon has his round of thirty miles, and sleeps at Cranford; but
every man cannot be a surgeon. For keeping the trim gardens full of
choice flowers without a weed to speck them; for frightening away
little boys who look wistfully at the said flowers through the
railings; for rushing out at the geese that occasionally venture into
the gardens if the gates are left open; for deciding all questions of
literature and politics without troubling themselves with unnecessary
reasons or arguments; for obtaining clear and correct knowledge of
everybody's affairs in the parish; for keeping their neat maidservants
in admirable order; for kindness (somewhat dictatorial) to the poor,
and real tender good offices to each other whenever they are in
distress--the ladies of Cranford are quite sufficient. "A man," as one
of them observed to me once, "is _so_ in the way in the house!"
Although the ladies of Cranford know all each other's proceedings,
they are exceedingly indifferent to each other's opinions. Indeed, as
each has her own individuality, not to say eccentricity, pretty
strongly developed, nothing is so easy as verbal retaliation; but,
somehow, good-will reigns among them to a considerable degree.
Then there were rules and regulations for visiting and calls; and they
were announced to any young people who might be staying in the town,
with all the solemnity with which the old Manx laws were read once a
year on the Tinwald Mount.
"Our friends have sent to inquire how you are after your journey
to-night, my dear" (fifteen miles in a gentleman's carriage). "They
will give you some rest to-morrow; but the next day, I have no doubt,
they will call; so be at liberty after twelve--from twelve to three
are our calling hours."
Then, after they had called--
"It is the third day, I dare say your mamma has told you, my dear,
never to let more than three days elapse between receiving a call and
returning it; and also, that you are never to stay longer than a
quarter of an hour."
"But am I to look at my watch? How am I to find out when a quarter of
an hour has passed?"
"You must keep thinking about the time, my dear, and not allow
yourself to forget it in conversation."
As everybody had this rule in their minds, whether they received or
paid a call, of course no absorbing subject was ever spoken about. We
kept ourselves to short sentences of small talk, and were punctual to
our time.
I imagine that a few of the gentlefolks of Cranford were poor, and had
some difficulty in making both ends meet; but they were like the
Spartans, and concealed their smart under a smiling face. We none of
us spoke of money, because that subject savoured of commerce and
trade; and though some might be poor, we were all aristocratic. The
Cranfordians had that kindly _esprit de corps_ which made them
overlook all deficiencies in success when some among them tried to
conceal their poverty. When Mrs. Forrester, for instance, gave a party
in her baby-house of a dwelling, and the little maiden disturbed the
ladies on the sofa by a request that she might get the tea-tray out
from underneath, every one took this novel proceeding as the most
natural thing in the world, and talked on about household forms and
ceremonies as if we all believed that our hostess had a regular
servants' hall, second table, with house-keeper and steward, instead
of the one little charity-school maiden, whose short ruddy arms could
never have been strong enough to carry the tray upstairs, if she had
not been assisted in private by her mistress, who now sat in state,
pretending not to know what cakes were sent up, though she knew, and
we knew, and she knew that we knew, and we knew that she knew that we
knew, she had been busy all morning making tea-bread and
sponge-cakes.
There were one or two consequences arising from this general but
unacknowledged poverty, and this very much acknowledged gentility,
which were not amiss, and which might be introduced into many circles
of society to their great improvement. For instance, the inhabitants
of Cranford kept early hours, and clattered home in their pattens,
under the guidance of a lantern-bearer, about nine o'clock at night;
and the whole town was abed and asleep by half-past ten. Moreover, it
was considered "vulgar" (a tremendous word in Crawford) to give
anything expensive, in the way of eatable or drinkable, at the evening
entertainments. Wafer bread-and-butter and sponge-biscuits were all
that the Honourable Mrs. Jamieson gave; and she was sister-in-law to
the late Earl of Glenmire, although she did practise such "elegant
economy."
"Elegant economy!" How naturally one falls back into the phraseology
of Cranford! There, economy was always "elegant," and money-spending
always "vulgar and ostentatious;" a sort of sour-grapeism which made
us very peaceful and satisfied. I never shall forget the dismay felt
when a certain Captain Brown came to live at Cranford, and openly
spoke about his being poor--not in a whisper to an intimate friend,
the doors and windows being previously closed, but in the public
street, in a loud military voice, alleging his poverty as a reason for
not taking a particular house. The ladies of Cranford were already
rather moaning over the invasion of their territories by a man and a
gentleman. He was a half-pay captain, and had obtained some situation
on a neighbouring railway, which had been vehemently petitioned
against by the little town; and if, in addition to his masculine
gender, and his connection with the obnoxious railway, he was so
brazen as to talk of being poor--why, then, indeed, he must be sent to
Coventry. Death was as true and as common as poverty; yet people never
spoke about that loud out in the streets. It was a word not to be
mentioned to ears polite. We had tacitly agreed to ignore that any
with whom we associated on terms of visiting equality could ever be
prevented by poverty from doing anything that they wished. If we
walked to or from a party, it was because the night was _so_ fine, or
the air _so_ refreshing, not because sedan-chairs were expensive. If
we wore prints instead of summer silks, it was because we preferred a
washing material; and so on, till we blinded ourselves to the vulgar
fact that we were, all of us, people of very moderate means. Of
course, then, we did not know what to make of a man who could speak of
poverty as if it was not a disgrace. Yet, somehow, Captain Brown made
himself respected in Cranford, and was called upon, in spite of all
resolutions to the contrary.
--_Mrs. Gaskell_
Give examples of momentary completeness in the second
and sixth sentences of Par. 1. (Introduction, p. 16.)
What Inflection is placed on the Interrogative sentence
in Par. 1? (Introduction, p. 19.)
Select words throughout the lesson which are emphatic
through contrast and tell what Inflection is placed on
them. (Introduction, pp. 20 and 21.)
How are the parenthetical clauses kept in the
background? (Introduction, p. 24.)
WHEN MRS FORRESTER ... SPONGE-CAKES. Account for the
Inflection on the various phrases and clauses of this
sentence.
THOUGH SHE KNEW, AND WE KNEW, AND SHE KNEW THAT WE KNEW.
Explain the Emphasis. (Introduction, pp. 30-32.)
* * * * *
SIR GALAHAD
My good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure,
My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure.
The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, 5
The hard brands shiver on the steel,
The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly,
The horse and rider reel:
They reel, they roll in clanging lists,
And when the tide of combat stands, 10
Perfume and flowers fall in showers,
That lightly rain from ladies' hands.
How sweet are looks that ladies bend
On whom their favours fall!
For them I battle till the end, 15
To save from shame and thrall:
But all my heart is drawn above,
My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine:
I never felt the kiss of love,
Nor maiden's hand in mine. 20
More bounteous aspects on me beam,
Me mightier transports move and thrill;
So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer
A virgin heart in work and will.
When down the stormy crescent goes, 25
A light before me swims,
Between dark stems the forest glows,
I hear a noise of hymns:
Then by some secret shrine I ride;
I hear a voice but none are there; 30
The stalls are void, the doors are wide,
The tapers burning fair.
Fair gleams the snowy altar-cloth,
The silver vessels sparkle clean,
The shrill bell rings, the censer swings, 35
And solemn chaunts resound between.
Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres
I find a magic bark;
I leap on board: no helmsman steers:
I float till all is dark. 40
A gentle sound, an awful light!
Three angels bear the Holy Grail;
With folded feet, in stoles of white,
On sleeping wings they sail.
Ah, blessed vision! blood of God! 45
My spirit beats her mortal bars,
As down dark tides the glory slides,
And star-like mingles with the stars.
When on my goodly charger borne
Thro' dreaming towns I go, 50
The cock crows ere the Christmas morn,
The streets are dumb with snow.
The tempest crackles on the leads,
And, ringing, springs from brand and mail;
But o'er the dark a glory spreads, 55
And gilds the driving hail.
I leave the plain, I climb the height;
No branchy thicket shelter yields;
But blessed forms in whistling storms
Fly o'er waste fens and windy fields. 60
A maiden knight--to me is given
Such hope, I know not fear;
I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven
That often meet me here.
I muse on joy that will not cease. 65
Pure spaces clothed in living beams,
Pure lilies of eternal peace,
Whose odours haunt my dreams;
And, stricken by an angel's hand,
This mortal armour that I wear, 70
This weight and size, this heart and eyes,
Are touch'd, are turn'd to finest air.
The clouds are broken in the sky,
And thro' the mountain-walls
A rolling organ-harmony 75
Swells up, and shakes and falls.
Then move the trees, the copses nod,
Wings flutter, voices hover clear:
"O just and faithful knight of God!
Ride on! the prize is near." 80
So pass I hostel, hall, and grange;
By bridge and ford, by park and pale,
All-arm'd I ride, whate'er betide,
Until I find the Holy Grail.
--_Alfred Tennyson_
PREPARATORY.--Point out the contrast of scene in stanza
i. How has the poet obtained contrast of sound? Note the
difficulties of Articulation.
Enumerate the manifestations by means of which Sir
Galahad apprehends the continual proximity of the Holy
Grail.
Select the lines in which the mystical element is most
strongly marked. What feeling is aroused in reading
these lines?
In what Quality of voice does this feeling find
expression? (Introduction, p. 34.)
What is the prevailing Quality of voice?
A ROLLING ORGAN-HARMONY, ETC. What idea predominates?
How does it affect the Quality of voice?
* * * * *
SONG FOR SAINT CECILIA'S DAY
November 22, 1687
From harmony, from heavenly harmony
This universal frame began;
When Nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,
And could not heave her head, 5
The tuneful voice was heard from high,
Arise ye more than dead.
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,
And Music's power obey. 10
From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began;
From harmony to harmony
Through all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in Man. 15
What passion cannot Music raise and quell?
When Jubal struck the chorded shell,
His listening brethren stood around,
And, wondering, on their faces fell
To worship that celestial sound; 20
Less than a God they thought there could not dwell
Within the hollow of that shell,
That spoke so sweetly and so well.
What passion cannot Music raise and quell?
The trumpet's loud clangour 25
Excites us to arms
With shrill notes of anger
And mortal alarms.
The double double double beat
Of the thundering drum 30
Cries, Hark! the foes come;
Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat!
The soft complaining flute
In dying notes discovers
The woes of hopeless lovers, 35
Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute.
Sharp violins proclaim
Their jealous pangs and desperation,
Fury, frantic indignation,
Depth of pains, and height of passion 40
For the fair, disdainful dame.
But oh! what art can teach,
What human voice can reach
The sacred organ's praise?
Notes inspiring holy love, 45
Notes that wing their heavenly ways
To mend the choirs above.
Orpheus could lead the savage race,
And trees unrooted left their place,
Sequacious of the lyre: 50
But bright Cecilia rais'd the wonder higher:
When to her organ vocal breath was given
An angel heard, and straight appear'd
Mistaking Earth for Heaven.
GRAND CHORUS
As from the power of sacred lays 55
The spheres began to move,
And sung the great Creator's praise
To all the blessed above;
So when the last and dreadful hour
This crumbling pageant shall devour, 60
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And Music shall untune the sky.
--_John Dryden_
What feeling pervades the first and last stanzas? The
second stanza? In what Quality of voice does each of
these feelings find expression? (Introduction, pp.
33-35.)
Illustrate by means of the third, fourth, and fifth
stanzas the extent to which Imitation enters into
reading. (Introduction, pp. 4 and 5.)
Account for the gradually increasing Emphasis in ll.
11-15, 48-54, and 60-63. (Introduction, p. 31.)
3-6. What is the Shading and Inflection? (Introduction,
pp. 16 and 33.) Compare with these ll. 55-61.
16. What is the Inflection on this question?
(Introduction, p. 19.) Compare with this ll. 42-44.
21. THEY THOUGHT. How does the reader give to these
words the force of a parenthetical clause?
(Introduction, p. 33.)
22-23. Note the Grouping.
31. How does the voice make the transition to direct
discourse? (Introduction, p. 24.)
42-54. What is the mental attitude? What is the
corresponding Stress? (Introduction, p. 29.)
44. ORGAN'S. Account for the marked Emphasis on this
word. Compare BRIGHT CECILIA, l. 51.
* * * * *
THE DAY WAS LINGERING
The day was lingering in the pale northwest,
And night was hanging o'er my head,--
Night where a myriad stars were spread;
While down in the east, where the light was least,
Seem'd the home of the quiet dead. 5
And, as I gazed on the field sublime,
To watch the bright, pulsating stars,
Adown the deep where the angels sleep
Came drawn the golden chime
Of those great spheres that sound the years 10
For the horologe of time.
Millenniums numberless they told,
Millenniums a million-fold
From the ancient hour of prime.
--_Charles Heavysege_
PREPARATORY.--Compare other passages from literature
which suggest the "music of the spheres," for example:
Dryden's _Song for Saint Cecilia's Day, The Moonlight
Scene_ from _The Merchant of Venice_, Milton's _The
Hymn_.
What is the atmosphere of ll. 1-4? Of ll. 5-14? In what
two different Qualities of voice do the corresponding
feelings find expression?
Read ll. 6-11, with a view to Perspective.
Note the Grouping in ll. 9-11.
* * * * *
ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER
Much have I travelled in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been,
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told 5
That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet never did I breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken; 10
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He stared at the Pacific--and all his men
Looked at each other with a wild surmise--
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
--_John Keats_
PREPARATORY.--How is the fundamental idea of this sonnet
illustrated in _The Key to Human Happiness?_ (p. 266.)
What feeling pervades the last six lines? In which line
is this feeling most marked? In what Quality of voice
does it find expression? (Introduction, pp. 33-35.)
Select the words which are emphatic through contrast,
expressed or implied. (Introduction, p. 32.)
* * * * *
GREAT THINGS WERE NE'ER BEGOTTEN IN AN HOUR
Great things were ne'er begotten in an hour;
Ephemerons in birth, are such in life;
And he who dareth, in the noble strife
Of intellects, to cope for real power,--
Such as God giveth as His rarest dower 5
Of mastery, to the few with greatness rife,--
Must, ere the morning mists have ceased to lower
Till the long shadows of the night arrive,
Stand in the arena. Laurels that are won,
Plucked from green boughs, soon wither; those that last 10
Are gather'd patiently, when sultry noon
And summer's fiery glare in vain are past.
Life is the hour of labour; on Earth's breast
Serene and undisturb'd shall be thy rest.
--_Sir Daniel Wilson (By permission)_
PREPARATORY.--What is the essential thought in this
sonnet? Quote corresponding passages. Give illustrations
from history and fiction.
What words are emphatic because of (_a_) contrast
expressed, (_b_) contrast implied? (Introduction, pp. 30
and 32.)
Read ll. 3-9, with a view to Perspective. (Introduction,
p. 33.)
* * * * *
A WOOD LYRIC
Into the stilly woods I go,
Where the shades are deep and the wind-flowers blow,
And the hours are dreamy and lone and long,
And the power of silence is greater than song.
Into the stilly woods I go, 5
Where the leaves are cool and the wind-flowers blow.
When I go into the stilly woods,
And know all the flowers in their sweet, shy hoods,
The tender leaves in their shimmer and sheen
Of darkling shadow, diaphanous green, 10
In those haunted halls where my footstep falls,
Like one who enters cathedral walls,
A spirit of beauty floods over me,
As over a swimmer the waves of the sea,
That strengthens and glories, refreshens and fills, 15
Till all mine inner heart wakens and thrills
With a new and a glad and a sweet delight,
And a sense of the infinite out of sight,
Of the great unknown that we may not know,
But only feel with an inward glow 20
When into the great, glad woods we go.
O life-worn brothers, come with me
Into the wood's hushed sanctity,
Where the great, cool branches are heavy with June,
And the voices of summer are strung in tune; 25
Come with me, O heart out-worn,
Or spirit whom life's brute-struggles have torn,
Come, tired and broken and wounded feet,
Where the walls are greening, the floors are sweet,
The roofs are breathing and heaven's airs meet. 30
Come, wash earth's grievings from out of the face,
The tear and the sneer and the warfare's trace,
Come, where the bells of the forest are ringing,
Come, where the oriole's nest is swinging,
Where the brooks are foaming in amber pools, 35
The mornings are still and the noonday cools.
Cast off earth's sorrows and know what I know,
When into the glad, deep woods I go.
--_William Wilfred Campbell (By permission)_
PREPARATORY.--"An Afternoon alone in the Woods." Tell
what one may see, and think, and feel. Illustrate by
quotations from the poets.
Give numerous examples of momentary completeness
throughout the poem. (Introduction, p. 16.)
How does the reader show that ll. 7-12 are merely
anticipative? (Introduction, p. 17.)
What change is made in the Force in l. 13?
(Introduction, p. 33.)
How is l. 15 connected with l. 13?
Observe the transition from description to appeal in l.
22. What is the change in vocal expression?
* * * * *
TO NIGHT
Swiftly walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave,
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, 5
Which make thee terrible and dear,--
Swift be thy flight!
Wrap thy form in a mantle gray,
Star-inwrought!
Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day, 10
Kiss her until she be wearied out,
Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand--
Come, long-sought!
When I arose and saw the dawn, 15
I sighed for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary Day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest, 20
I sighed for thee.
Thy brother Death came, and cried,
Wouldst thou me?
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured like a noontide bee 25
Shall I nestle near thy side?
Wouldst thou me?--And I replied,
No, not thee!
Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon-- 30
Sleep will come when thou art fled;
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee, beloved Night--
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon! 35
--_Percy Bysshe Shelley_
* * * * *
THE OPENING SCENE AT THE TRIAL OF WARREN HASTINGS
From "Essay on Warren Hastings"
On the 13th of February, 1788, the sittings of the Court commenced.
There have been spectacles more dazzling to the eye, more gorgeous
with jewelry and cloth of gold, more attractive to grown-up children,
than that which was then exhibited at Westminster; but, perhaps, there
never was a spectacle so well calculated to strike a highly
cultivated, a reflecting, an imaginative mind. All the various kinds
of interest which belong to the near and to the distant, to the
present and to the past, were collected on one spot and in one hour.
All the talents and all the accomplishments which are developed by
liberty and civilization were now displayed with every advantage that
could be derived both from co-operation and from contrast. Every step
in the proceedings carried the mind either backward, through many
troubled centuries, to the days when the foundations of our
constitution were laid; or far away, over boundless seas and deserts,
to dusky nations living under strange stars, worshipping strange gods,
and writing strange characters from right to left. The High Court of
Parliament was to sit, according to forms handed down from the days of
the Plantagenets, on an Englishman accused of exercising tyranny over
the lord of the holy city of Benares and over the ladies of the
princely house of Oude.
The place was worthy of such a trial. It was the great hall of William
Rufus, the hall which had resounded with acclamations at the
inauguration of thirty kings, the hall which had witnessed the just
sentence of Bacon and the just absolution of Somers, the hall where
the eloquence of Strafford had for a moment awed and melted a
victorious party inflamed with just resentment, the hall where Charles
had confronted the High Court of Justice with the placid courage which
has half redeemed his fame.
Neither military nor civil pomp was wanting. The avenues were lined
with grenadiers. The streets were kept clear by cavalry. The peers,
robed in gold and ermine, were marshalled by the heralds under Garter
King-at-Arms. The judges in their vestments of state attended to give
advice on points of law. Near a hundred and seventy lords, three
fourths of the Upper House as the Upper House then was, walked in
solemn order from their usual place of assembling to the tribunal. The
junior Baron present led the way, George Eliott, Lord Heathfield,
recently ennobled for his memorable defence of Gibraltar against the
fleets and armies of France and Spain. The long procession was closed
by the Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshal of the realm, by the great
dignitaries, and by the brothers and sons of the King. Last of all
came the Prince of Wales, conspicuous by his fine person and noble
bearing.
The gray old walls were hung with scarlet. The long galleries were
crowded by an audience such as has rarely excited the fears or the
emulation of an orator. There were gathered together, from all parts
of a great, free, enlightened and prosperous empire, grace and female
loveliness, wit and learning, the representatives of every science and
of every art. There were seated round the Queen, the fair-haired young
daughters of the house of Brunswick. There the Ambassadors of great
Kings and Commonwealths gazed with admiration on a spectacle which no
other country in the world could present. There Siddons, in the prime
of her majestic beauty, looked with emotion on a scene surpassing all
the imitations of the stage. There the historian of the Roman Empire
thought of the days when Cicero pleaded the cause of Sicily against
Verres, and when, before a senate which still retained some show of
freedom, Tacitus thundered against the oppressor of Africa.
There were seen, side by side, the greatest painter and the greatest
scholar of the age. The spectacle had allured Reynolds from that easel
which has preserved to us the thoughtful foreheads of so many writers
and statesmen, and the sweet smiles of so many noble matrons. It had
induced Parr to suspend his labours in that dark and profound mine
from which he had extracted a vast treasure of erudition--a treasure
too often buried in the earth, too often paraded with injudicious and
inelegant ostentation; but still precious, massive, and splendid.
There appeared the voluptuous charms of her to whom the heir of the
throne had in secret plighted his faith. There too was she, the
beautiful mother of a beautiful race, the Saint Cecilia, whose
delicate features, lighted up by love and music, art has rescued from
the common decay. There were the members of that brilliant society
which quoted, criticised, and exchanged repartees under the rich
peacock hangings of Mrs. Montague. And there the ladies, whose lips,
more persuasive than those of Fox himself, had carried the Westminster
election against palace and treasury, shone round Georgiana, Duchess
of Devonshire.
The Serjeants made proclamation. Hastings advanced to the bar and bent
his knee. The culprit was indeed not unworthy of that great presence.
He had ruled an extensive and populous country, had made laws and
treaties, had sent forth armies, had set up and pulled down princes.
And in his high place he had so borne himself that all had feared him,
that most had loved him, and that hatred itself could deny him no
title to glory except virtue. He looked like a great man and not like
a bad man. A person small and emaciated, yet deriving dignity from a
carriage which, while it indicated deference to the court, indicated
also habitual self-possession and self-respect; a high and
intellectual forehead; a brow pensive, but not gloomy; a mouth of
inflexible decision; a face pale and worn, but serene, on which was
written, as legibly as under the picture in the council-chamber at
Calcutta, _Mens aequa in arduis_; such was the aspect with which the
great Proconsul presented himself to his judges.
His counsel accompanied him, men all of whom were afterwards raised by
their talents and learning to the highest posts in their
profession--the bold and strong-minded Law, afterwards Chief-Justice
of the King's Bench; the more humane and eloquent Dallas, afterwards,
Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas; and Plomer, who, near twenty years
later, successfully conducted in the same high court the defence of
Lord Melville, and subsequently became Vice-chancellor and Master of
the Rolls.
But neither the culprit nor his advocates attracted so much notice as
the accusers. In the midst of the blaze of red drapery, a space had
been fitted up with green benches and tables for the Commons. The
managers, with Burke at their head, appeared in full dress. The
collectors of gossip did not fail to remark that even Fox, generally
so regardless of his appearance, had paid to the illustrious tribunal
the compliment of wearing a bag and sword. Pitt had refused to be one
of the conductors of the impeachment; and his commanding, copious, and
sonorous eloquence was wanting to that great muster of various
talents. Age and blindness had unfitted Lord North for the duties of a
public prosecutor; and his friends were left without the help of his
excellent sense, his tact, and his urbanity.
But in spite of the absence of these two distinguished members of the
Lower House, the box in which the managers stood contained an array of
speakers such as perhaps had not appeared together since the great age
of Athenian eloquence. There were Fox and Sheridan, the English
Demosthenes and the English Hyperides. There was Burke, ignorant,
indeed, or negligent of the art of adapting his reasonings and his
style to the capacity and taste of his hearers, but in amplitude of
comprehension and richness of imagination superior to every orator,
ancient or modern.
There, with eyes reverentially fixed on Burke, appeared the finest
gentleman of the age--his form developed by every manly exercise, his
face beaming with intelligence and spirit--the ingenious, the
chivalrous, the high-souled Windham. Nor, though surrounded by such
men, did the youngest manager pass unnoticed. At an age when most of
those who distinguish themselves in life are still contending for
prizes and fellowships at college, he had won for himself a
conspicuous place in Parliament. No advantage of fortune or connection
was wanting that could set off to the height his splendid talents and
his unblemished honour. At twenty-three he had been thought worthy to
be ranked with the veteran statesmen who appeared as the delegates of
the British Commons at the bar of the British nobility. All who stood
at the bar, save him alone, are gone--culprit, advocates, accusers. To
the generation which is now in the vigour of life, he is the sole
representative of a great age which has passed away. But those who,
within the last ten years, have listened with delight till the morning
sun shone on the tapestries of the House of Lords, to the lofty and
animated eloquence of Charles, Earl Grey, are able to form some
estimate of the powers of a race of men among whom he was not the
foremost.
The charges, and the answers of Hastings, were first read. The
ceremony occupied two whole days, and was rendered less tedious than
it would otherwise have been by the silver voice and just emphasis of
Cowper, the clerk of the court, near relation of the amiable poet. On
the third day Burke rose. Four sittings were occupied by his opening
speech, which was intended to be a general introduction to all the
charges. With an exuberance of thought and splendour of diction which
more than satisfied the highly raised expectations of the audience, he
described the character and institutions of the natives of India;
recounted the circumstances in which the Asiatic empire of Britain had
originated; and set forth the constitution of the Company and of the
English Presidencies. Having thus attempted to communicate to his
hearers an idea of Eastern society, as vivid as that which existed in
his own mind, he proceeded to arraign the administration of Hastings,
as systematically conducted in defiance of morality and public law.
The energy and pathos of the great orator extorted expressions of
unwonted admiration from the stern and hostile Chancellor, and, for a
moment, seemed to pierce even the resolute heart of the defendant. The
ladies in the galleries, unaccustomed to such displays of eloquence,
excited by the solemnity of the occasion, and perhaps not unwilling to
display their taste and sensibility, were in a state of uncontrollable
emotion. Handkerchiefs were pulled out, smelling-bottles were handed
round; hysterical sobs and screams were heard; and Mrs. Sheridan was
carried out in a fit. At length the orator concluded. Raising his
voice till the old arches of Irish oak resounded: "Therefore," said
he, "hath it with all confidence been ordered by the Commons of Great
Britain, that I impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and
misdemeanours. I impeach him in the name of the Commons' House of
Parliament, whose trust he has betrayed. I impeach him in the name of
the English nation, whose ancient honour he has sullied. I impeach him
in the name of the people of India, whose rights he has trodden under
foot and whose country he has turned into a desert. Lastly in the name
of human nature itself, in the name of both sexes, in the name of
every age, in the name of every rank, I impeach the common enemy and
oppressor of all."
--_Macaulay_
This lesson is an exercise on Inflection, especially as
it occurs on antithetical words or phrases and on series
of words or phrases parallel in construction.
(Introduction, pp. 19 and 20.)
* * * * *
PERORATION OF OPENING SPEECH AGAINST WARREN HASTINGS
1. In the name of the Commons of England, I charge all this villainy
upon Warren Hastings, in this last moment of my application to you.
2. My Lords, what is it that we want here to a great act of national
justice. Do we want a cause, my Lords? You have the cause of oppressed
princes, of undone women of the first rank, of desolated provinces,
and of wasted kingdoms.
3. Do you want a criminal, my Lords? When was there so much iniquity
ever laid to the charge of any one? No, my Lords, you must not look to
punish any other such delinquent from India. Warren Hastings has not
left substance enough in India to nourish such another delinquent.
4. My Lords, is it a prosecutor you want? You have before you the
Commons of Great Britain as prosecutors; and I believe, my Lords, that
the sun, in his beneficent progress round the world, does not behold a
more glorious sight than that of men, separated from a remote people
by the material bounds and barriers of nature, united by the bond of a
social and moral community--all the Commons of England resenting, as
their own, the indignities and cruelties that are offered to all the
people of India.
5. Do we want a tribunal? My Lords, no example of antiquity, nothing
in the modern world, nothing in the range of human imagination, can
supply us with a tribunal like this. My Lords, here we see virtually,
in the mind's eye, that sacred majesty of the Crown, under whose
authority you sit and whose power you exercise. We have here all the
branches of the royal family, in a situation between majesty and
subjection, between the sovereign and the subject--offering a pledge
in that situation, for the support of the rights of the Crown and the
liberties of the people, both which extremities they touch.
6. My Lords, we have a great hereditary peerage here; those who have
their own honour, the honour of their ancestors, and of their
posterity, to guard, and who will justify, as they always have
justified, that precision in the Constitution by which justice is made
an hereditary office. My Lords, we have here a new nobility, who have
risen and exalted themselves by various merits, by great civil and
military services, which have extended the fame of this country from
the rising to the setting sun. My Lords, you have here, also, the
lights of our religion; you have the bishops of England. My Lords, you
have that true image of the primitive church in its ancient form, in
its ancient ordinances, purified from the superstitions and vices
which a long succession of ages will bring upon the best institutions.
7. My Lords, these are the securities which we have in all the
constituent parts of the body of this House. We know them, we reckon,
we rest upon them, and commit safely the interests of India and of
humanity into your hands. Therefore, it is with confidence that,
ordered by the Commons, I impeach Warren Hastings, Esquire, of high
crimes and misdemeanours. I impeach him in the name of the Commons of
Great Britain in Parliament assembled, whose parliamentary trust he
has betrayed. I impeach him in the name of all the Commons of Great
Britain, whose national character he has dishonoured. I impeach him in
the name of the people of India, whose laws, rights, and liberties he
has subverted, whose property he has destroyed, whose country he has
laid waste and desolate. I impeach him in the name and by virtue of
those eternal laws of justice which he has violated. I impeach him in
the name of human nature itself, which he has cruelly outraged,
injured and oppressed, in both sexes, in every age, rank, situation,
and condition of life.
--_Edmund Burke_
What effect would the solemnity of the occasion and the
gravity of the accusation have on the Quality of the
speaker's voice? (Introduction, p. 34.)
Par. 2. CAUSE. What words in Pars. 3, 4, and 5 are
emphatic through contrast with this word? Point out
similar contrasts in Par. 6.
Account for the Inflection on the various questions.
How are the Climaxes in Pars. 2, 5, and 7 interpreted
vocally? (Introduction, p. 31.)
* * * * *
THE SONG MY PADDLE SINGS
West wind, blow from your prairie nest,
Blow from the mountains, blow from the west.
The sail is idle, the sailor too;
O! wind of the west, we wait for you.
Blow, blow! 5
I have wooed you so,
But never a favour you bestow.
You rock your cradle the hills between,
But scorn to notice my white lateen.
I stow the sail, unship the mast: 10
I wooed you long, but my wooing's past;
My paddle will lull you into rest.
O! drowsy wind of the drowsy west,
Sleep, sleep,
By your mountain steep, 15
Or down where the prairie grasses sweep!
Now fold in slumber your laggard wings,
For soft is the song my paddle sings.
August is laughing across the sky,
Laughing while paddle, canoe, and I, 20
Drift, drift,
Where the hills uplift
On either side of the current swift.
The river rolls in its rocky bed;
My paddle is plying its way ahead 25
Dip, dip,
While the waters flip
In foam as over their breast we slip.
And oh, the river runs swifter now;
The eddies circle about my bow. 30
Swirl, swirl!
How the ripples curl
In many a dangerous pool awhirl!
And forward far the rapids roar,
Fretting their margin for evermore. 35
Dash, dash,
With a mighty crash,
They seethe, and boil, and bound, and splash.
Be strong, O paddle! be brave, canoe!
The reckless waves you must plunge into. 40
Reel, reel,
On your trembling keel,
But never a fear my craft will feel.
We've raced the rapid, we're far ahead!
The river slips through its silent bed. 45
Sway, sway,
As the bubbles spray
And fall in tinkling tunes away.
And up on the hills against the sky,
A fir-tree rocking its lullaby, 50
Swings, swings,
Its emerald wings,
Swelling the song that my paddle sings.
--_E. Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake)_
(_By arrangement with the Author_)
By examples from the above poem show to what extent
Imitation enters into vocal expression. (Introduction,
pp. 4-6.)
* * * * *
THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDGE
From "Horatius"
... The Consul's brow was sad,
And the Consul's speech was low,
And darkly looked he at the wall
And darkly at the foe.
"Their van will be upon us 5
Before the bridge goes down;
And if they once may win the bridge,
What hope to save the town?"
Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the Gate: 10
"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers, 15
And the temples of his gods?
"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me,
Will hold the foe in play. 20
In yon straight path a thousand
May well be stopped by three.
Now who will stand on either hand,
And keep the bridge with me?"
Then out spake Spurius Lartius,-- 25
A Ramnian proud was he,--
"Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And keep the bridge with thee."
And out spake strong Herminius,--
Of Titian blood was he,-- 30
"I will abide on thy left side,
And keep the bridge with thee."
"Horatius," quoth the Consul,
"As thou sayest, so let it be."
And straight against that great array 35
Forth went the dauntless Three.
For Romans in Rome's quarrel
Spared neither land nor gold,
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life,
In the brave days of old. 40
Then none was for a party;
Then all were for the state;
Then the great man helped the poor,
And the poor man loved the great:
Then lands were fairly portioned; 45
Then spoils were fairly sold:
The Romans were like brothers
In the brave days of old.
Now, Roman is to Roman
More hateful than a foe, 50
And the Tribunes beard the high,
And the Fathers grind the low.
As we wax hot in faction,
In battle we wax cold:
Wherefore men fight not as they fought 55
In the brave days of old.
Now while the Three were tightening
Their harness on their backs,
The Consul was the foremost man
To take in hand an axe: 60
And Fathers mixed with Commons
Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,
And smote upon the planks above,
And loosed the props below.
Meanwhile the Tuscan army, 65
Right glorious to behold,
Came flashing back the noonday light,
Rank behind rank, like surges bright
Of a broad sea of gold.
Four hundred trumpets sounded 70
A peal of warlike glee,
As that great host with measured tread,
And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head,
Where stood the dauntless Three. 75
The Three stood calm and silent,
And looked upon the foes,
And a great shout of laughter
From all the vanguard rose:
And forth three chiefs came spurring 80
Before that deep array;
To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
And lifted high their shields, and flew
To win the narrow way;
Aunus from green Tifernum, 85
Lord of the Hill of Vines;
And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves
Sicken in Ilva's mines;
And Picus, long to Clusium
Vassal in peace and war, 90
Who led to fight his Umbrian powers
From that gray crag where, girt with towers,
The fortress of Nequinum lowers
O'er the pale waves of Nar.
Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus 95
Into the stream beneath;
Herminius struck at Seius,
And clove him to the teeth;
At Picus brave Horatius
Darted one fiery thrust; 100
And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms
Clashed in the bloody dust.
Then Ocnus of Falerii
Rushed on the Roman Three;
And Lausulus of Urgo, 105
The rover of the sea;
And Aruns of Volsinium,
Who slew the great wild boar,
The great wild boar that had his den
Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen, 110
And wasted fields, and slaughtered men,
Along Albinia's shore.
Herminius smote down Aruns;
Lartius laid Ocnus low;
Right to the heart of Lausulus 115
Horatius sent a blow.
"Lie there," he cried, "fell pirate!
No more, aghast and pale,
From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark
The track of thy destroying bark. 120
No more Campania's hinds shall fly
To woods and caverns when they spy
Thy thrice accursed sail."
But now no sound of laughter
Was heard among the foes. 125
A wild and wrathful clamour
From all the vanguard rose.
Six spears' lengths from the entrance
Halted that deep array,
And for a space no man came forth 130
To win the narrow way.
But hark! the cry is Astur:
And lo! the ranks divide,
And the great Lord of Luna
Comes with his stately stride. 135
Upon his ample shoulders
Clangs loud the fourfold shield,
And in his hand he shakes the brand
Which none but he can wield.
He smiled on those bold Romans 140
A smile serene and high;
He eyed the flinching Tuscans,
And scorn was in his eye.
Quoth he: "The she-wolf's litter
Stand savagely at bay; 145
But will ye dare to follow
If Astur clears the way?"
Then, whirling up his broadsword
With both hands to the height,
He rushed against Horatius, 150
And smote with all his might.
With shield and blade Horatius
Right deftly turned the blow.
The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;
It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh: 155
The Tuscans raised a joyful cry
To see the red blood flow.
He reeled, and on Herminius
He leaned one breathing-space;
Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds, 160
Sprang right at Astur's face.
Through teeth, and skull, and helmet,
So fierce a thrust he sped,
The good sword stood a hand-breadth out
Behind the Tuscan's head. 165
And the great Lord of Luna
Fell at that deadly stroke,
As falls on Mount Alvernus
A thunder-smitten oak.
Far o'er the crashing forest 170
The giant arms lie spread;
And the pale augurs, muttering low,
Gaze on the blasted head.
On Astur's throat Horatius
Right firmly pressed his heel, 175
And thrice and four times tugged amain,
Ere he wrenched out the steel.
"And see," he cried, "the welcome,
Fair guests, that waits you here!
What noble Lucumo comes next, 180
To taste our Roman cheer?"
But at his haughty challenge
A sullen murmur ran,
Mingled of wrath, and shame, and dread,
Along that glittering van. 185
There lacked not men of prowess,
Nor men of lordly race;
For all Etruria's noblest
Were round the fatal place.
But all Etruria's noblest 190
Felt their hearts sink to see
On the earth the bloody corpses,
In the path the dauntless Three.
Yet one man for one moment
Strode out before the crowd; 195
Well known was he to all the Three,
And they gave him greeting loud.
"Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!
Now welcome to thy home!
Why dost thou stay, and turn away? 200
Here lies the road to Rome."
Thrice looked he at the city;
Thrice looked he at the dead;
And thrice came on in fury,
And thrice turned back in dread; 205
And, white with fear and hatred,
Scowled at the narrow way
Where, wallowing in a pool of blood,
The bravest Tuscans lay.
But meanwhile axe and lever 210
Have manfully been plied;
And now the bridge hangs tottering
Above the boiling tide.
"Come back, come back, Horatius!"
Loud cried the Fathers all. 215
"Back Lartius! back Herminius!
Back, ere the ruin fall!"
Back darted Spurius Lartius;
Herminius darted back:
And, as they passed beneath their feet 220
They felt the timbers crack.
But when they turned their faces.
And on the farther shore
Saw brave Horatius stand alone,
They would have crossed once more. 225
But with a crash like thunder
Fell every loosened beam,
And, like a dam, the mighty wreck
Lay right athwart the stream:
And a long shout of triumph 230
Rose from the walls of Rome,
As to the highest turret-tops
Was splashed the yellow foam.
Alone stood brave Horatius,
But constant still in mind; 235
Thrice thirty thousand foes before,
And the broad flood behind.
"Down with him!" cried false Sextus,
With a smile on his pale face,
"Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena, 240
"Now yield thee to our grace."
Round turned he, as not deigning
Those craven ranks to see;
Naught spake he to Lars Porsena,
To Sextus naught spake he: 245
But he saw on Palatinus
The white porch of his home;
And he spake to the noble river
That rolls by the towers of Rome:
"Oh, Tiber! Father Tiber! 250
To whom the Romans pray,
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,
Take thou in charge this day!"
So he spake, and speaking sheathed
The good sword by his side, 255
And with his harness on his back,
Plunged headlong in the tide.
No sound of joy or sorrow
Was heard from either bank;
But friends and foes in dumb surprise, 260
With parted lips and straining eyes,
Stood gazing where he sank;
And when above the surges
They saw his crest appear,
All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, 265
And even the ranks of Tuscany
Could scarce forbear to cheer.
But fiercely ran the current,
Swollen high by months of rain:
And fast his blood was flowing, 270
And he was sore in pain,
And heavy with his armour,
And spent with changing blows:
And oft they thought him sinking,
But still again he rose. 275
Never, I ween, did swimmer,
In such an evil case
Struggle through such a raging flood
Safe to the landing-place:
But his limbs were borne up bravely 280
By the brave heart within,
And our good Father Tiber
Bore bravely up his chin.
"Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus:
"Will not the villain drown? 285
But for this stay, ere close of day
We should have sacked the town!"
"Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena,
"And bring him safe to shore;
For such a gallant feat of arms 290
Was never seen before."
And now he feels the bottom;
Now on dry earth he stands;
Now round him throng the Fathers
To press his gory hands; 295
And now, with shouts and clapping,
And noise of weeping loud,
He enters through the River-Gate,
Borne by the joyous crowd.
--_Macaulay_
PREPARATORY.--What is the historic back-ground of the
ballad from which this selection is taken? Narrate
briefly the events as told by Macaulay in _Horatius_.
Where is the scene of the dramatic events here
portrayed? Who are the chief actors? Who are the
speakers?
Show whether the words and phrases repeated in the
following lines are accompanied by increased Emphasis or
whether the Emphasis is transferred: ll. 1-4, 41-46,
108-109, 118-121, 188-190, 198-199, 202-205, 214-217,
240-241, 244-245, 252, 292-295. (Introduction, pp.
30-32.) Give examples of Emphasis through contrast,
throughout the selection.
What Inflection is placed on the questions in ll. 8,
13-16, 23-24? Give reasons.
Compare the mental attitude of Horatius in ll. 11-16,
and ll. 17-24. What is the difference in Stress?
ll. 38-39. What Inflection and Emphasis on the series of
words? (Introduction, pp. 20 and 31.)
In what way does Imitation enter into the reading of ll.
72-75, 82-84, 95-100, 160-163, 218-221, 292-299? How are
the Time and Stress affected? How does Imitation affect
the Pitch in ll. 230-233, 156-157, 172-173, 238-241,
265-267, 284-291?
ll. 144-147. In what Quality of voice should Astur's
speech be read?
l. 153. What is the most important word?
ll. 178-181, 196-201. How does the derision affect the
Stress and the Inflection? (Introduction, pp. 21, 22,
and 30.)
ll. 186-187. Explain the Inflection on this negative
statement.
ll. 238-241, 284-291. Compare the feelings of Sextus
with those of Lars Porsena. How is the difference shown
in the Quality of voice? (Introduction, pp. 33-35.)
* * * * *
ON THE DEATH OF KING EDWARD VII
Delivered in the British House of Commons, May 12th, 1910
The late King, who has been suddenly taken away from us, had, at the
time of his death, not yet completed the tenth year of his reign.
Those years were crowded with moving and stirring events, both abroad,
in the Empire, and here at home. In our relations with foreign
countries they have been years of growing friendships, of new
understandings, of stronger and surer safeguards for the peace of
mankind. Within the Empire during the same time the sense of
interdependence, the consciousness of common interests and common
risks, the ever-tightening bonds of corporate unity have been
developed and vivified as they had never been before. Here at home, as
though it were by way of contrast, controversial issues of the gravest
kind--economic, social, and constitutional--have ripened into a rapid
maturity.
Sir, in all these multiform manifestations of our national and
imperial life, history will assign a part of singular dignity and
authority to the great Ruler whom we have lost. In external affairs
his powerful personal influence was steadily and zealously directed to
the avoidance not only of war, but of the causes and pretexts of war,
and he well earned the title by which he will always be remembered,
"the Peacemaker of the World."
Within the boundaries of his own Empire, by his intimate knowledge of
its component parts, by his broad and elastic sympathy not only with
ambitions, and aspirations, but with the sufferings and the hardships
of his people, by his response to any and every appeal whether to the
sense of justice or the spirit of compassion, he won a degree of
loyalty, affection, and confidence which few Sovereigns have ever
enjoyed. At home, we all recognize that, above the din and dust of our
hard-fought controversies, detached from party and attached only to
the common interests, we had in him an arbiter ripe in experience,
judicial in temper, at once a reverent worshipper of our traditions
and a watchful guardian of our constitutional liberties.
One is tempted, indeed constrained, on such an occasion as this to ask
what were the qualities which enabled a man called comparatively late
in life to new duties of unexampled complexity--what were the
qualities which in practice proved him so admirably fitted to the
task, and have given him an enduring and illustrious record among the
rulers and governors of the nations? I should be disposed to assign
the first place to what sounds a commonplace--but in its persistent
and unfailing exercise is one of the rarest of virtues--his strong,
abiding, dominating sense of public duty.
King Edward, be it remembered, was a man of many and varied interests.
He was a sportsman in the best sense, an ardent and discriminating
patron of the Arts, and as well equipped as any man of his time for
the give-and-take of social intercourse; wholly free from the
prejudices and narrowing rules of caste; at home in all companies; an
enfranchised citizen of the world. To such a man, endowed as he was by
nature, placed where he was by fortune and by circumstances, there
was open, if he had chosen to enter it, an unlimited field for
self-indulgence. But, Sir, as every one will acknowledge who was
brought into daily contact with him in the sphere of affairs, his duty
to the State always came first. In this great business community there
was no better man of business, no man by whom the humdrum
obligations--punctuality, method, preciseness, and economy of time and
speech--were more keenly recognized or more severely practised. I
speak with the privilege of close experience when I say that wherever
he was, whatever may have been his apparent preoccupations, in the
transactions of the business of the State there were never any
arrears, there was never any trace of confusion, there was never any
moment of avoidable delay.
Next to these, Sir--I am still in the domain of practice and
administration--I should put his singular, perhaps an unrivalled, tact
in the management of men, and a judgment of intuitive shrewdness as to
the best outlet from perplexed and often baffling situations. He had,
in its highest and best development, the genius of common sense. These
rare gifts of practical efficiency were, during the whole of his
Kingship, yoked to the service of a great ideal. He was animated every
day of his Sovereignty by the thought that he was at once the head and
the chief servant of that vast complex organism which we call the
British Empire. He recognized in the fullest degree both the powers
and the limitations of a Constitutional Monarch. Here, at home, he
was, though no politician, as every one knows, a keen Social Reformer.
He loved his people at home and over the seas. Their interests were
his interests; their fame was his fame. He had no self apart from
them.
I will not touch for more than a moment on more delicate and sacred
ground--on his personal charm, the warmth and wealth of his humanity;
his unfailing considerateness for all who in any capacity were
permitted to work for him. I will only say, in this connection that no
man in our time has been more justly beloved by his family and his
friends, and no Ruler in our or in any time has been more sincerely
true, more unswervingly loyal, more uniformly kind to his advisers and
his servants. By the unsearchable counsels of the Disposer of Events
he has been called suddenly, and without warning, to his account. We
are still dazed under the blow which has befallen us. It is too soon,
as yet, even to attempt to realize its full meaning, but this, at
least, we may say at once and with full assurance, that he has left to
his people a memory and an example which they will never forget, a
memory of great opportunities greatly employed, and an example which
the humblest of his subjects may treasure and strive to follow, of
simplicity, courage, self-denial, tenacious devotion up to the last
moment of conscious life to work, to duty, and to service.
--_The Right Honourable Herbert Henry Asquith_
WITHIN THE BOUNDARIES ... ENJOYED. Make an analysis of
this sentence with a view to Perspective. (Introduction,
p. 33.)
DETACHED ... INTERESTS. Note the contrasts and indicate
the Inflection on each.
TEMPTED, ... CONSTRAINED. What difference in Emphasis?
(Introduction, p. 31.) Compare SINGULAR, PERHAPS
UNRIVALLED; IN OUR OR IN ANY TIME.
* * * * *
THE HEROES OF MAGERSFONTEIN
Dec. 11, 1899
1. During the night it was considered expedient that the Highland
Brigade, 4,000 strong, under General Wauchope, should get close enough
to the lines of the foe to make it possible to charge the heights. At
midnight the gallant but ill-fated men moved cautiously through the
darkness toward the kopje where the Boers were most strongly
intrenched. They were led by a guide who was supposed to know every
inch of the country, out into the darkness of an African night.
2. So onward until three of the clock on the Monday. Then out of the
darkness a rifle rang sharp and clear, a herald of disaster--a soldier
had tripped in the dark over the hidden wires laid down by the enemy.
In a second, in the twinkling of an eye, the searchlights of the Boers
fell broad and clear as the noonday sun on the ranks of the doomed
Highlanders, though it left the enemy concealed in the shadows of the
frowning mass of hills behind them. For one brief moment the Scots
seemed paralysed by the suddenness of their discovery, for they knew
that they were huddled together like sheep within fifty yards of the
trenches of the foes.
3. Then clear above the confusion rolled the voice of the General:
"Steady, men, steady!"--and like an echo to the veterans out came the
crash of nearly a thousand rifles not fifty paces from them. The
Highlanders reeled before the shock like trees before the tempest;
their best, their bravest, fell in that wild hail of lead. General
Wauchope was down, riddled with bullets; yet gasping, dying, bleeding
from every vein, the Highland chief raised himself on his hands and
knees and cheered his men forward. Men and officers fell in heaps
together.
4. The Black Watch charged, and the Gordons and the Seaforths, with a
yell that stirred the British camp below, rushed onward to death or
disaster. The accursed wires caught them around the legs until they
floundered like trapped wolves, and all the time the rifles of the foe
sang the song of death in their ears. They fell back broken and
beaten, leaving nearly 1,300 dead and wounded, just where the broad
breast of the grassy veldt melts into the embrace of the rugged
African hills; and an hour later, the dawning came of the dreariest
day that Scotland has known for a generation past.
5. Of her officers, the flower of her chivalry, the pride of her
breeding, but few remained to tell the tale--a sad tale truly, but one
untinted with dishonour nor smirched with disgrace, for up these
heights under similar circumstances, even a brigade of devils could
scarce have hoped to pass. All that mortal man could do the Scots did;
they tried, they failed, they fell, and there is nothing left us now
but to revere their memory and give them a place of honour in the
pages of history.
6. Three hundred yards to the rear of the little township of Modder
River, just as the sun was sinking in a blaze of African splendour, on
the evening of Tuesday, the 12th of December, a long shallow grave lay
exposed in the breast of the veldt. To the westward, the broad river
fringed with trees runs murmuringly; to the eastward, the heights
still held by the enemy, scowled menacingly; north and south the veldt
undulated peacefully; a few paces to the northward of that grave,
fifty dead Highlanders lay dressed as they had fallen on the field of
battle: they had followed their chief to the field, and they were to
follow him to the grave.
7. How grim and stern these men looked as they lay face upward to the
sky, with great hands clutched in the last agony, and brows still knit
with the stern lust of the strife in which they had fallen. The
plaids, dear to every Highland clan, were represented there, and out
of the distance came the sound of pipes. It was the General coming to
join his men. There, right under the eyes of the enemy, moved with
slow and solemn tread all that remained of the Highland Brigade. In
front of them walked the chaplain, with bared head, dressed in his
robes of office; then came the pipers with their pipes, sixteen in
all, and behind them, with arms reversed, moved the Highlanders,
dressed in all the regalia of their regiments, and in the midst the
dead General, borne by four of his comrades. Out swelled the pipes to
the strains of "The Flowers of the Forest," now ringing proud and high
until the soldier's head went back in haughty defiance--and eyes
flashed through tears like sunlight on steel, now sinking to moaning
wail like a woman mourning for her first-born, until the proud heads
drooped forward till they rested on heaving chests, and tears rolled
down the wan and scarred faces, and the choking sobs broke through the
solemn rhythm of the march of death.
8. Right up to the grave they marched, then broke away in companies,
until the General lay in the shallow grave with a Scottish square of
armed men around him. Only the dead man's son and a small remnant of
his officers stood with the chaplain and the pipers, while the solemn
service of the church was spoken.
9. Then once again the pipes pealed out, and "Lochaber No More" cut
through the stillness like a cry of pain until one could almost hear
the widow in her Highland home mourning for the soldier she would
welcome back no more.
10. Then, as if touched with the magic of one thought, the soldiers
turned their tear-damped eyes from the still form in the shallow grave
toward the height where Cronje, the Lion of Africa, and his soldiers
stood. Then every cheek flushed crimson, and strong jaws set like
steel, and the veins on the hands that clasped the rifle handles
swelled almost to bursting with the fervour of the grip, and that look
from those silent, armed men spoke more eloquently than ever spoke the
tongues of orators. For on each frowning face the spirit of vengeance
sat, and each sparkling eye asked silently for blood.
11. At the head of the grave, at the point nearest the enemy, the
General was laid to sleep, his officers grouped around him, while in
line behind him, his soldiers were laid in a double row wrapped in
their blankets. No shots were fired over the dead men resting so
peacefully, only the salute was given, and then the men marched
campwards as the darkness of an African night rolled over the
far-stretching breadth of the veldt.
--_From "The London Daily News" (By permission)_
Par. 1. Note the Grouping, Pause, and Shading in the
last sentence. Compare the Grouping in the preceding
sentence, in the last sentence of Par. 4, in the first
sentence of Par. 7, and in the second sentence of Par.
10.
Explain the Inflection and Emphasis on the phrases
parallel in construction, in the fifth and sixth
sentences of Par. 7, and the second sentence of Par. 10.
* * * * *
THE FUNERAL OF JULIUS CAESAR
From "Julius Caesar," Act III. Scene ii.
The Forum. _Enter Brutus, Cassius, and a throng of Citizens._
_All._ We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.
_Bru._ Then follow me, and give me audience, friends.--
Cassius, go you into the other street,
And part the numbers.--
Those that will hear me speak, let them stay here;
Those that will follow Cassius, go with him;
And public reasons shall be rendered
Of Caesar's death.
_1 Cit._ I will hear Brutus speak.
_2 Cit._ I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons,
When severally we hear them rendered. 10
[_Exit Cassius, with some of the Citizens. Brutus goes
into the rostrum._]
_3 Cit._ The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!
_Bru._ Be patient till the last.
Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause;
and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine
honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may
believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your
senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any
in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I
say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If
then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, 20
this is my answer.--Not that I loved Caesar less, but that
I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living,
and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live
all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as
he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I
honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him.
There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour
for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here
so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for
him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would 30
not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended.
Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If
any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a
reply.
_All._ None, Brutus, none.
_Bru._ Then none have I offended. I have done no more
to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of
his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated,
wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced,
for which he suffered death. 40
[_Enter Antony and others, with Caesar's body._]
Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who,
though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the
benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as
which of you shall not? With this I depart,--that, as
I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the
same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country
to need my death.
_All._ Live, Brutus, live! live!
_1 Cit._ Bring him with triumph home unto his house.
_2 Cit._ Give him a statue with his ancestors. 50
_3 Cit._ Let him be Caesar.
_4 Cit._ Caesar's better parts
Shall now be crown'd in Brutus.
_1 Cit._ We'll bring him to his house with shouts and
clamours.
_Bru._ My countrymen,--
_2 Cit._ Peace! silence! Brutus speaks.
_1 Cit._ Peace, ho!
_Bru._ Good countrymen, let me depart alone,
And, for my sake, stay here with Antony:
Do grace to Caesar's corpse, and grace his speech 60
Tending to Caesar 's glories; which Mark Antony,
By our permission, is allow'd to make.
I do entreat you, not a man depart,
Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. [_Exit_]
_1 Cit._ Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.
_3 Cit._ Let him go up into the public chair;
We'll hear him.--Noble Antony, go up.
_Ant._ For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you.
[_He goes up into the rostrum._]
_4 Cit._ What does he say of Brutus?
_3 Cit._ He says, for Brutus' sake, 70
He finds himself beholding to us all.
_4 Cit._ 'T were best to speak no harm of Brutus here.
_1 Cit._ This Caesar was a tyrant.
_3 Cit._ Nay, that's certain:
We are blest that Rome is rid of him.
_2 Cit._ Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.
_Ant._ You gentle Romans,--
_All._ Peace, ho! let us hear him.
_Ant._ Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. 80
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you, Caesar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest,--
For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men.--
Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. 90
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man. 100
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, 110
And men have lost their reason!--Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
_1 Cit._ Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
_2 Cit._ If thou consider rightly of the matter,
Caesar has had great wrong.
_3 Cit._ Has he, masters?
I fear there will a worse come in his place.
_4 Cit._ Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the
crown;
Therefore 't is certain he was not ambitious. 120
_1 Cit._ If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
_2 Cit._ Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
_3 Cit._ There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
_4 Cit._ Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
_Ant._ But yesterday the word of Caesar might
Have stood against the world: now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
O masters! if I were dispos'd to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, 130
Who, you all know, are honourable men;
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I will wrong such honourable men.
But here's a parchment, with the seal of Caesar;
I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:
Let but the commons hear this testament,--
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,--
And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood. 140
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
Unto their issue.
_4 Cit._ We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
_All._ The will, the will! we will hear Caesar's will.
_Ant._ Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;
It is not meet you know how Caesar lov'd you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, 150
It will inflame you, it will make you mad:
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;
For, if you should, O, what would come of it!
_4 Cit._ Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony;
You shall read us the will,--Caesar's will.
_Ant._ Will you be patient? will you stay awhile?
I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it.
I fear I wrong the honourable men
Whose daggers have stabb'd Caesar-, I do fear it.
_4 Cit._ They were traitors: honourable men! 160
_All._ The will! the testament!
_2 Cit._ They were villains, murderers: the will! read
the will!
_Ant._ You will compel me, then, to read the will?
Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar,
And let me show you him that made the will.
Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?
_All._ Come down.
_2 Cit._ Descend.
_3 Cit._ You shall have leave.
[_He comes down from the rostrum._]
_4 Cit._ A ring; stand round. 170
_1 Cit._ Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
_2 Cit._ Room for Antony!--most noble Antony.
_Ant._ Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.
_All._ Stand back! room! bear back!
_Ant._ If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle; I remember
The first time ever Caesar put it on;
'T was on a summer's evening, in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii:--
Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through: 180
See, what a rent the envious Casca made:
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;
And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it,
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel:
Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar lov'd him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all;
For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, 190
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
O, now you weep; and I perceive, you feel
The dint of pity: these are gracious drops. 200
Kind souls, what, weep you, when you but behold
Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here.
Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
_1 Cit._ O piteous spectacle!
_2 Cit._ O noble Caesar!
_3 Cit._ O woeful day!
_4 Cit._ O traitors, villains!
_1 Cit._ O most bloody sight!
_2 Cit._ We will be revenged.
_All._ Revenge! About,--seek,--burn,--fire,--kill,--slay! 210
Let not a traitor live!
_Ant._ Stay, countrymen.
_1 Cit._ Peace there! Hear the noble Antony.
_2 Cit._ We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with
him.
_Ant._ Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
They that have done this deed are honourable;
What private griefs they have, alas! I know not,
That made them do it; they are wise and honourable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. 220
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts:
I am no orator, as Brutus is;
But as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That love my friend; and that they know full well
That gave me public leave to speak of him.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood: I only speak right on;
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, 230
And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Caesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
_All._ We'll mutiny!
_1 Cit._ We'll burn the house of Brutus!
_3 Cit._ Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.
_Ant._ Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
_All._ Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony. 240
_Ant._ Why, friends, you go to do you know not what:
Wherein hath Caesar thus deserv'd your loves?
Alas, you know not: I must tell you then:
You have forgot the will I told you of.
_All._ Most true;--the will!--let's stay, and hear the
will.
_Ant._ Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal.
To every Roman citizen he gives,
To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
_2 Cit._ Most noble Caesar!--we'll revenge his death.
_3 Cit._ O royal Caesar! 250
_Ant._ Hear me with patience.
_All._ Peace, ho!
_Ant._ Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
His private arbours, and new-planted orchards,
On this side Tiber; he hath left them you,
And to your heirs for ever,--common pleasures,
To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?
_1 Cit._ Never, never!--Come, away, away!
We'll burn his body in the holy place, 260
And with the brands fire the traitors' houses.
Take up the body.
_2 Cit._ Go, fetch fire.
_3 Cit._ Pluck down benches.
_4 Cit._ Pluck down forms, windows, anything.
[_Exeunt all, with the body._]
_Ant._ Now let it work! Mischief, thou art afoot,
Take thou what course thou wilt!
--_Shakespeare_
PREPARATORY.--For dramatic rendering see notes on
_Highland Hospitality_ pp. 153 and 154.
The long speeches of Brutus and Antony may be practised
by themselves as exercises in Emphasis and Inflection.
88-89. How is the parenthetical clause subordinated?
Give other examples from the extracts.
153-154. Select the emphatic words.
160. What Stress is placed on TRAITORS and HONOURABLE
respectively? Account for the difference.
210. ABOUT, ... SLAY! What is the Stress? Compare ll.
236-237, and ll. 259-265.
* * * * *
THE REVENGE
A Ballad of the Fleet, 1591
At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay,
And a pinnace, like a flutter'd bird, came flying from far away:
"Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted fifty-three!"
Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: "'Fore God I am no coward;
But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear, 5
And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow quick.
We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty-three?"
Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: "I know you are no coward;
You fly them for a moment to fight with them again.
But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore. 10
I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard,
To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain."
So Lord Howard past away with five ships of war that day,
Till he melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven;
But Sir Richard bore in hand all his sick men from the land 15
Very carefully and slow,
Men of Bideford in Devon,
And we laid them on the ballast down below;
For we brought them all aboard,
And they blest him in their pain, that they were not left
to Spain, 20
To the thumbscrew and the stake, for the glory of the Lord.
He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to fight,
And he sailed away from Flores till the Spaniard came in sight,
With his huge sea-castles heaving upon the weather bow.
"Shall we fight or shall we fly? 25
Good Sir Richard, tell us now,
For to fight is but to die!
There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set."
And Sir Richard said again: "We be all good English men.
Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil, 30
For I never turn'd my back upon Don or devil yet."
Sir Richard spoke and he laugh'd, and we roar'd a hurrah, and so
The little Revenge ran on sheer into the heart of the foe,
With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick below;
For half of their fleet to the right and half to the left
were seen, 35
And the little Revenge ran on thro' the long sea-lane between.
Thousands of their soldiers look'd down from their decks
and laugh'd,
Thousands of their seamen made mock at the mad little craft
Running on and on, till delay'd
By their mountain-like San Philip that, of fifteen hundred tons, 40
And up-shadowing high above us with her yawning tiers of guns,
Took the breath from our sails, and we stay'd.
And while now the great San Philip hung above us like a cloud
Whence the thunderbolt will fall
Long and loud, 45
Four galleons drew away
From the Spanish fleet that day,
And two upon the larboard and two upon the starboard lay,
And the battle-thunder broke from them all.
But anon the great San Philip she bethought herself and went 50
Having that within her womb that had left her ill-content;
And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand,
For a dozen times they came with their pikes and musqueteers,
And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes his ears
When he leaps from the water to the land. 55
And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over
the summer sea,
But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built
galleons came,
Ship after ship, the whole night long, with their battle-thunder
and flame;
Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead
and her shame: 60
For some were sunk and many were shatter'd, and so could fight
us no more--
God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before?
For he said "Fight on! fight on!"
Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck;
And it chanced that, when half of the short summer night
was gone, 65
With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck,
But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly dead,
And himself he was wounded again in the side and the head,
And he said, "Fight on! fight on!"
And the night went down, and the sun smiled out far over
the summer sea, 70
And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us all in a ring;
But they dar'd not touch us again, for they fear'd that we still
could sting,
So they watch'd what the end would be.
And we had not fought them in vain,
But in perilous plight were we, 75
Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain,
And half of the rest of us maim'd for life
In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife;
And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold,
And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder was all
of it spent; 80
And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side;
But Sir Richard cried in his English pride,
"We have fought such a fight for a day and a night
As may never be fought again!
We have won great glory, my men! 85
And a day less or more
At sea or ashore,
We die--does it matter when?
Sink me the ship, Master Gunner--sink her, split her in twain!
Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain!" 90
And the gunner said "Ay, ay," but the seamen made reply:
"We have children, we have wives,
And the Lord hath spared our lives.
We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield, to let us go;
We shall live to fight again and to strike another blow." 95
And the lion there lay dying, and they yielded to the foe.
And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him then
Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught at last,
And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign grace;
But he rose upon their decks, and he cried: 100
"I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and true;
I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do:
With a joyful spirit I Sir Richard Grenville die!"
And he fell upon their decks, and he died.
And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true, 105
And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap
That he dared her with one little ship and his English few;
Was he devil or man? He was devil for aught they knew,
But they sank his body with honour down into the deep,
And they mann'd the Revenge with a swarthier alien crew, 110
And away she sail'd with her loss and long'd for her own;
When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from sleep,
And the water began to heave and the weather to moan,
And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew,
And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew, 115
Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts
and their flags,
And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shatter'd navy
of Spain,
And the little Revenge herself went down by the island crags
To be lost evermore in the main.
--_Alfred Tennyson_
PREPARATORY.--Give a series of titles suggestive of the
events narrated in this ballad; describe the picture
that each title calls up, and tell on what part of the
poem it is based.
What different ideals of bravery are brought out in this
ballad, and by whom is each presented? Compare them with
those set forth in _The Private of the Buffs_ (Fourth
Reader), and _Horatius_.
1, 3, and 13. (Appendix A, 1 and 6.)
'FORE GOD ... sick. What Inflection prevails?
(Introduction, pp. 17 and 18.)
What Inflection is placed on the questions in ll. 7, 25,
62, 88, and 108? (Introduction, pp. 18 and 19.)
FOR THE GLORY OF THE LORD. How is the irony brought out
by the voice? (Introduction, pp. 21, 22, and 30.)
25-28. (Introduction, p. 18.)
Compare the speech of the men (ll. 25-28) with that of
Sir Richard (ll. 29-31) from the standpoint of mental
attitude. How is this difference indicated by Stress?
32. Which are the emphatic words? Give your reasons.
Select words that are emphatic because of contrast from
ll. 34, 35, and 91. What Inflection is placed on the
emphatic words in each case?
How does repetition affect the Emphasis in ll. 37-38,
53-54, 58-60, 63, and 89? (Introduction, pp. 31-33.)
40. With what word is THAT connected in sense? How does
the voice make the connection? (Introduction, p. 33.)
43-47. Analyse these lines from the standpoint of
Perspective.
66-67. Where do the Pauses occur? How does the Grouping
affect them?
68. Why is HIMSELF emphatic?
75-81. Give examples of "momentary completeness".
93. Which is the most emphatic word in this line? Give
your reason.
101-103. To what extent should Imitation enter into the
reading of this speech? (Introduction, pp. 4 and 5.)
112-117. How can the effect of this Climax be brought
out by the voice? (Introduction, p. 31.)
118. Note the transition in thought and feeling. By what
change in Time, Pitch, and Force is it accompanied?
* * * * *
HERVE RIEL
On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two,
Did the English fight the French,--woe to France!
And the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue,
Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue,
Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance, 5
With the English fleet in view.
'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase;
First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville:
Close on him fled, great and small,
Twenty-two good ships in all; 10
And they signalled to the place,
"Help the winners of a race!
Get us guidance, give us harbour, take us quick--or, quicker still,
Here's the English can and will!"
Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board; 15
"Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?"
laughed they:
"Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred
and scored,
Shall the _Formidable_ here, with her twelve and eighty guns,
Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way,
Trust to enter where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons, 20
And with flow at full beside?
Now 'tis slackest ebb of tide.
Reach the mooring? Rather say,
While rock stands or water runs,
Not a ship will leave the bay!" 25
Then was called a council straight.
Brief and bitter the debate:
"Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take in tow
All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow,
For a prize to Plymouth Sound? 30
Better run the ships aground!"
(Ended Damfreville his speech.)
Not a minute more to wait!
"Let the captains all and each
Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach! 35
France must undergo her fate.
Give the word!" But no such word
Was ever spoke or heard;
For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these,--
A Captain? a Lieutenant? a Mate--first, second, third? 40
No such man of mark, and meet
With his betters to compete!
But a simple Breton sailor pressed by Tourville for the fleet,
A poor coasting-pilot he, Herve Riel the Croisickese.
And, "What mockery or malice have we here?" cries Herve Riel: 45
"Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues?
Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell
On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell
'Twist the offing here and Greve, where the river disembogues?
Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for? 50
Morn and eve, night and day,
Have I piloted your bay,
Entered free and anchored fast, at the foot of Solidor.
Burn the fleet and ruin France? That were worse than fifty Hogues!
Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me there's
a way! 55
Only let me lead the line,
Have the biggest ship to steer,
Get this _Formidable_ clear,
Make the others follow mine,
And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know well, 60
Right to Solidor past Greve,
And there lay them safe and sound;
And if one ship misbehave--
Keel so much as grate the ground--
Why, I've nothing but my life,--here's my head!" cries
Herve Riel. 65
Not a minute more to wait.
"Steer us in, then, small and great!
Take the helm, lead the line, save the squadron!" cried its chief.
Captains, give the sailor place!
He is Admiral, in brief. 70
Still the north wind, by God's grace!
See the noble fellow's face
As the big ship, with a bound,
Clears the entry like a hound.
Keeps the passage, as its inch of way were the wide sea's
profound! 75
See, safe through shoal and rock,
How they follow in a flock,
Not a ship that misbehaves, not a keel that grates the ground,
Not a spar that comes to grief!
The peril, see, is past, 80
All are harboured to the last,
And just as Herve Riel hollas "Anchor!"--sure as fate,
Up the English come--too late.
So, the storm subsides to calm:
They see the green trees wave 85
On the heights o'erlooking Greve.
Hearts that bled are stanched with balm.
"Just our rapture to enhance,
Let the English rake the bay,
Gnash their teeth and glare askance 90
As they cannonade away!
'Neath rampired Solidor pleasant riding on the Rance!"
How hope succeeds despair on each captain's countenance!
Out burst all with one accord,
"This is Paradise for Hell! 95
Let France, let France's King,
Thank the man that did the thing!"
What a shout, and all one word,
"Herve Riel!"
As he stepped in front once more, 100
Not a symptom of surprise
In the frank, blue Breton eyes,
Just the same man as before.
Then said Damfreville, "My friend,
I must speak out at the end, 105
Though I find the speaking hard.
Praise is deeper than the lips:
You have saved the King his ships,
You must name your own reward.
'Faith, our sun was near eclipse! 110
Demand whate'er you will,
France remains your debtor still.
Ask to heart's content and have! or my name's not Damfreville."