HENRY IVTH'S APOSTROPHE TO SLEEP.-SHAKS. How many thousands of my poorest subjects Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile, In loathsome beds; and leav'st the kingly couch, Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down! THE SEVEN AGES.-SHAKS. ALL the world's a stage; And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, Ev'n in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything! SCENE FROM THE TRAGEDY OF "ION." TALFOURD. The Royal Chamber. ADRASTUS on a couch, asleep. Enter IoN, with a knife. Ion.-Why do I creep thus stealthily along With trembling steps? Am I not arm'd by Heaven, Whom it hath doom'd? And shall I falter now, Assure me, gods !—Yes; I have heard your voices For I dare pray ye now to nerve my arm And see me strike! He's smiling in his slumber, [He goes to the couch.] As if some happy thought of innocent days Play'd at his heart-strings: must I scare it thence And he shall know their sentence. Wake, Adrastus ! Adras.-Who dares disturb my rest? Guards! Soldiers! Recreants! Where tarry ye? Why smite ye not to earth Ion.-I am none; But a sad instrument in Jove's great hand, Adras.-Villains! does no one hear? Ion.-Vex not the closing minutes of thy being Adras.-Thou!-I know thee The youth I spared this morning, in whose ear [Rising.] How the grim memory of thy thankless deed Ion. It is most true; Thou spar'dst my life, and therefore do the gods Seem the chance forfeit of some single sin, Adras.-I have none on earth. If thou hast courage, end me! Ion.-Not one friend! Most piteous doom! Adras.-Art melted? Ion.-If I am, Hope nothing from my weakness; mortal arms, And eyes unseen that sleep not, gird us round, And we shall fall together. Be it so! Adras.-No; strike at once; my hour is come: in thee I recognise the minister of Jove, And, kneeling thus, submit me to his power. [Adrastus kneels.] Ion.-Avert thy face! Adras.-No; let me meet thy gaze; For breathing pity lights thy features up Into more awful likeness of a form Which once shone on me ;-and which now my sense Shapes palpable-in habit of the grave, Inviting me to the sad realm where shades Mournful and calm;—'tis surely there ;-she waves As if to bless thee-and I bless thee too, Ion.-Gods! to what office have ye doom'd me !-Now! [ION raises his arm to stab ADRASTUS, who is kneeling, and gazes steadfastly upon him. The voice of MEDON is heard without, calling "Ion! Ion!"— ION drops his arm.] Adras.-Be quick, or thou art lost! Medon.-Ion, forbear! Behold thy son, Adrastus! [MEDON rushes in behind him.] [ION drops the knife and stands stupified with horror.] Adras. What strange words Are these which call my senses from the death They were composed to welcome ?-Son! 'tis false— I had but one-and the deep wave rolls o'er him! Medon. That wave received, instead of the fair nurseling, Who made me happy once—the voice, now still, Ion.-Father! [ION sinks on one knee before ADrastus.] [A noise without.] Medon. The clang of arms! Ion, (starting up.)—They come! they come! They who are leagued with me against thy life. Here let us fall! Adras. I will confront them yet. |