For this the hour is come, the sword is drawn, From small beginnings, because God is just. 15. DUTY TO ONE'S COUNTRY.-Hannah More. Born, 1744; died, 1833. OUR country is a whole, my Publius, Of which we all are parts; nor should a citizen E'en when in hostile fields he bleeds to save her, He only pays her back a debt he owes. Her laws secure him from domestic feuds, And from the foreign foe her arms protect him. Loads him with comforts, and would make his state The advantages it yields; - let him retire And from the sacred laws which guard those blessings, With kindred brutes one common shelter seek There let him live, and vaunt his wretched freedom, 16. ST. PIERRE TO FERRARDO.- James Sheridan Knowles. St. Pierre, having possessed himself of Ferrardo's dagger, compels him to sign a confession from his own lips, of his villany. KNOW you me, Duke? Know you the peasant boy, You chanced to cross upon his native hills, In whose quick eye you saw the subtle spirit, [Ferrardo tries to rise You did, indeed! You gave me masters, Duke, As they did lay them down! I got the start Of my cotemporaries! not a youth Of whom could read, write, speak, command a weapon, Ten thousand ducats? [Ferrardo rising. What, Duke! Is such your offer? Give me, Duke, The hands that helped my father to his wish, I would not give them for it! Mark me, Duke! And on the head-stone read my father's name! Heaven can tell how far he wandered else! Upon that grave I knelt an altered man, And, rising thence, I fled from Mantua;-nor had returned, But tyrant hunger drove me back again my body to relieve, At cost of my dear soul! I have done thy work, The shadow on the very point of twelve, My case is desperate! Your signature Of vital moment is unto my peace! My eye is on the dial! Pass the shadow The point of noon, the breadth of but a hair, As can my eye discern and, that unsigned, The steel is in thy heart! 17. WILLIAM TELL ON SWITZERLAND.— Adaptation from J. S. Knowles ONCE Switzerland was free! With what a pride I used to walk these hills, look up to Heaven, How happy was I in it, then! I loved In my boat at night, when midway o'er the lake, You know the jutting cliff, round which a track And I have thought of other lands, whose storms Have wished me there;-the thought that mine was free 18. WILLIAM TELL AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.-J. S. Knowles. YE crags and peaks, I'm with you once again! And bid your tenant welcome to his home I saw an eagle wheeling near its brow Of measuring the ample range beneath And round about; absorbed, he heeded not The death that threatened him. I could not shoot!- And let him soar away! 19. THE FRACTIOUS MAN. - Original Translation from Brueys. Monsieur Grichard. Blockhead! Would you keep me knocking two hours at the door? Lolive. I was at work, Sir, in the garden. At the first sound of the knocker, I ran to answer it with such haste, as to fall down on the way. M. Gri. A great pity it was you did n't break your neck, booby' Why did n't you leave the door open? Lol. Why, Sir, you scolded me, yesterday, because I did so. When it is open, you storm about it. When it is shut, you storm about it just the same. I should like to know what to do. M. Gri. What to do, sirrah? What to do, did you say? Lol. O, come now, master, how would you have it? Do you wish me to leave the door open ? Lol. I say, Sir, that a door must be either open or shut. Now, how will you have it? M. Gri. I have told you, a thousand times, you scoundry l, — I have told you, I wished it-wished it — but confound your impudence, Sir! Is it for you to ask questions? Let me only lay hands on you, I'll show you how I wish it! Have you swept the stair case? Lol. Yes, Sir, from top to bottom. M. Gri. And the yard? Lol. If you find a wages. M. Gri. bit of dirt there big as a filbert, I'll forfeit my You have n't watered the mule? Lol. Ask the neighbors, who saw me pass, if I have n't. Lol. Yes, Sir. Ask William if I have n't. He saw me do it. M. Gri. But you have n't taken those bottles of Peruvian bark where I ordered you? Lol. Pardon me, Sir; I took them, and brought back the empty bottles. M. Gri. And my letters? Did you take them to the Post Office? Hah? Lol. Did n't I, though? I took good care to do that! M. Gri. You villain, you! A hundred times I have forbidden you to scrape your infernal violin. Now, I heard you, this morning Lol. This morning? Don't you remember you smashed it all to pieces, for me, yesterday? M. Gri. Humph! I'll lay a wager that those two cords of wood Lol. The wood is all sawed, split, and housed, Sir; and since putting it in, I have helped William get a load of hay into the barn, I have watered all the trees in the garden, dug over three of the beds and was digging another when you knocked. |