For thee I longde to live, for thee now welcome

death;

and welcome be that happy pangue, that stops my gasping breath.

Twise happy were that axe would cut my rootes downright;

and sacred were that swelling sea, which would consume me quite.

Blest were that bowe would breake, to bring downe clyming youth,

which cracks aloft and quakes full oft for feare of thine untrueth.

G. GASCOIGNE

610

Pol.

Ete.

POLYNICES-ETEOCLES

ALTARES of my country soile.

Whom thou art come to spoile and to deface. Pol. O Gods, give eare unto my honest cause. Ete. With foren power his countrie to invade. Pol. O holy temples of the heavenly gods. Ete. That for thy wicked deeds do hate thy name. Pol. Out of my kingdom am I driven by force. Ete. Out of the which thou camest me for to drive. Pol. Punish, O Gods, this wicked tyrant here. Ete. Pray to the Gods in Greece and not in Thebes. Pol. No savage beast so cruell nor unjust.

Ete. Not cruell to my country like to thee.

Pol. Since from my right I am wyth wrong deprived. Ete. Eke from thy life, if long thou tarry here.

Pol. O father, heare what injuries I take.

Ete. As though thy divellish deeds were hid from him.

G. GASCOIGNE

611

C.

A.

C.

A.

C.

DOEST

CREON-ANTIGONE

OEST thou refuse the maryage of my sonne?
wil nor him nor any other wed.

Against thy will then must I thee constrayne?
If thou me force, I sweare thou shalt repent.
What canst thou cause, that I should once repent?

A. With bloody knife I can this knot unknit.

C.

A.

C.

And what a foole were thou to kill thy selfe!

I wil ensue some worthy woman's steps.

Speake out Antigone that I may heare.

A.

C.

This hardy hand shall soon dispatch his life. O simple foole, and darest thou be so bold? A. Why should I dread to do so doughty deede? And wherefore dost thou wedlock so despise? In cruell exile for to follow him.

C.

A.

C.

A.

What others might beseem, beseems not thee.
If need require, with him eke will I die.

612

Cre.
Ete.

WE

CREON-ETEOCLES

G. GASCOIGNE

E be but few and they in number great.

they.

Our men have got more courage farre than

Cre. That know I not, nor am I sure to say.
Ete. Those eyes of thine in little space shall see
how many I myself can bring to ground.
Cre. That would I like, but hard it is to do.
Ete. I wil pen up our men within the walles.

Cre. In councel yet the victory consists.

Ete. And wilt thou then I use some other reade?
Cre. What els? be stil a while, for hast makes wast.

Ete. By night I wil the cammassado give.

Cre. So may you do and take the overthrow.
Ete. The vantage is to him that doth assault.
Cre. Yet skirmish given by night is perilous.
Ete. Amid their trenches shall we them invade?
Cre. As who should say were none to make defence.
613 Ete. Should I then yeld the citie to my foes?
Cre. No, but advise yourself if you be wise.
Ete. That were thy part that knowest more than I.
Cre. Then shall I say that best doth seeme to me?
Ete. Yea, Creon, yea, thy councel hold I deare.
Cre. Seven men of courage have they chosen out.
Ete. A slender number for so great emprize.
Cre. But they them chose for guydes and capitans.
Ete. To such an host? why they may not suffice.
Cre. Nay, to assault the seven gates of the citie.
Ete. What then behoveth so bestad to done?
Cre. With equall number see you doe them match.
Ete. And then commit our men in charge to them?
Cre. Chusing the best and boldest bloods in Thebes.
Ete. And shall I choose the boldest or the wisest?
Cre. Nay both, for one wythout that other failes.

G. GASCOIGNE

614

615

PHILIP VAN ARTEVELDE TO ADRIANA

E calm;

BE

and let me warn thee, ere thy choice be fixed,
what fate thou mayst be wedded to with me.
Thou hast beheld me living heretofore
as one retired in staid tranquillity:

the dweller in the mountains, on whose ear
the accustom'd cataract thunders unobserved;
the seaman who sleeps sound upon the deck
nor hears the loud lamenting of the blast
nor heeds the weltering of the plangent wave,—
these have not lived more undisturb'd than I:
but build not upon this; the swollen stream ·
may shake the cottage of the mountaineer
and drive him forth; the seaman roused at length
leaps from his slumber on the wave-wash'd deck;
and now the time comes fast when here in Ghent
he, who would live exempt from injuries
of arméd men, must be himself in arms.

WE

CICERO TO CATILINE

H. TAYLOR

HITHER at length wilt thou abuse
patience?

Still shall thy fury mock us! to what license
dares thy unbridled boldness run itself?

Dost thou not feel thy counsels all laid open,

and see thy wild conspiracy bound in

our

with each man's knowledge? Which of all this order
can'st thou think ignorant, if they will but utter
their conscience to the right, of what thou didst
last night, what on the former, where thou wert,
whom thou didst call together, what your plots were?
O age and manners! this the consul sees,
the senate understands, yet this man lives!
lives! ay, and comes here into council with us,
partakes the public cares, and with his eye

marks and points out each man of us to slaughter.
And we, good men, do satisfy the state,

if we can shun but this man's sword and madness. B. JONSON

F. S. III

ΙΟ

616 PORREX EXPLAINS TO HIS FATHER GORBODUC THE TREACHERY OF FERREX

HAN thus I sawe the knot of love unknitte,

WHAN

all honest league and faithfull promise broke, the law of kinde and trouth thus rent in twaine, his hart on mischiefe set and in his brest black treason hid; then, then did I despeire that ever time could winne him frend to me, then saw I how he smiled with slaying knife wrapped under cloke, then saw I depe deceite lurke in his face and death prepared for me; even nature moved me then to holde my life more deare to me then his, and bad this hand, since by his life my death must nedes ensue, and by his death my life mote be preserved, to shed his bloud and seeke my safetie so. And wisdome willed me without protract in speedie wise to put the same in ure.

T. SACKVILLE

617

MAX PICCOLOMINI-WALLENSTEIN

HOU art rich

Max. and glorious; with an unpolluted heart

Wal.

thou canst make conquest of whate'er seems highest ; but he, who once hath acted infamy,

does nothing more in this world.

Calmly, Max. ! much that is great and excellent will we perform together yet. And if we only stand on the height with dignity, 'tis soon forgotten, Max., by what road we ascended. Believe me, many a crown shines spotless now, that yet was deeply sullied in the winning. To the evil spirit doth the earth belong, not to the good. All that the powers divine send from above are universal blessings: their light rejoices us, their air refreshes, but never yet was man enriched by them.

S. T. COLERIDGE from Schiller

618 ARCHILAUS REFUSES ΤΟ LEAVE THE

Zi.

Ar.

PRINCE

ZIPHARES, SUSPECTING his deSIGN OF DESTROYING
HIMSELF

'TIS

`IS late: the gathering clouds like meeting armies come on apace, and mortals now must die

till the bright ruler of the rising day

creates them new: the wakeful bird of night
claps her dark wings to th' windows of the dying.
General, good night.

Sir, I'll not leave you yet:
I do not like the dusky boding eve.

Well I remember, Sir, how you and I have often on the watch in winter walk'd, clad in cold armour, round the sleeping camp, till, cover'd o'er from head to foot with snow, the sentinels have started at our march, and thought us ghosts stalking in winding-sheets: and do you think I cannot watch you now, thus cover'd, and beneath this bounteous roof? Sleep, Sir; I'll guard you from suspected danger. 619 Ah, prince, you cannot hide

Zi.

Ar.

620

your purpose from your narrow-searching friend:
I find it by the sinking of your spirits,

your hollow speech, deep musings, eager looks,
whose fatal longings quite devour their objects,
you have decreed, by all the gods you have,
this night to end your noble life.

Away,
I never thought thee troublesome till now.
I care not; spite of all that you can do,
I'll stay and weep you into gentleness:
your faithful soldier, this old doting fool,

shall be more troublesome than one that's wiser.
By heaven you shall not hurt your precious life.
I'll stay and wait you, wake here till I die;
follow you as a fond and fearful father

would watch a desperate child.

KING JOHN—HUBERT

N. LEE

OW oft the sight of means to do ill deeds

K.J. Hom

makes deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by,

a fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,

quoted, and signed, to do a deed of shame,