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Surprise and Astonishment,
GONE to be married, gone to swear a peace!
False blood to false blood join'd! Gone to be friends!
Shall Lewis have Blanch? and Blanch those provinces ?
It is not so: thou hast misspoke, misheard !
Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again:
It cannot be : thou dost but say 'tis so.
What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
Why dost thou look so sadly on my son?
What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
Be these sad sighs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again; not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true.
Sir Richard, what think you ? Have you beheld,
Or, have you read, or heard? or could you think?
Or do you almost think, although you see,
That you do see ? Could thought, without this object,
Form such another? This is the very top,
The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest
Of Murder's arms: This is the blocdiest shame,
The wildest savag'ry, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-ey'd Wrath, or starving Rage,
Presented to the tears of soft Remorse.

Pride.
Your grace shall pardon me, I will not back;
I am too high born to be property'd;
To be a secondary at control,
Or useful serving-man and instrument
To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of war
Between this chastis'd kingdom and myself,
And brought in matter that should feed this fire :
And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out
With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with interest to this land;
Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;
And come ye now to tell me John hath made
His peace with Rome: What is that peace to me?
1, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine ;
And now, it is half conquered, must I back,
Because that John hath made his peace with Rome:
Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne,
What men provided, what munition sent,
To poder-prop this action? Is't not I
That undergo this charge? Who else but 1,

And such as to my claim are liable,
Sweat in this business, and maintain this war?
Have I not heard these islanders shout out,
Vive le Roy! as I have bank'd their towns ?
Have I not here the best cards for the game,
To win this easy match played for a crown?
And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
No, no, my soul, it never shall be said.

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Courage and Boasting.
I AM satisfy'd.
Cæsar sits down in Alexandria, where
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held: our sever'd navy, too,
Hare knit again, and fleet, threat'ning most sea-like.
Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady?
If from the field I should return once more,

will appear in blood ;
I and my sword will earn my chronicle ;
There is hope in it yet:
I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath'd,
And fight maliciously : for when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth,
And send to darkness all that stop me.
Show me what thou'lt do;
Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't iear thyselfi
Woo't drink up esii ; eat a crocodile?
I'll do't-Do'st thou come here to whine,
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I:
And if thou prate of mountains, let theni throw
Millions of acres on us; till our ground,
Singeing its pate against the burning zone,
Make Osea like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth
l'll rant as well as thou.

!

Perplexity.
YES ;-'tis Æmilia :by and by.--She's dead.
'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death ;
The noise was high.-Ha! no more moving?
Still as the grave.--Shall she come wer't good ?
I think she stirs again :-No.--What's the best?
If she come in she'll sure speak to my wife.

Vexation.
O WHAT a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous, that this player here,

But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit,
That from her working all his visage warm’d,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to bis conceit! and all for nothing;
For Hecuba!
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her?

Peevishness.
Troi. What, art thou angry, Pandarus ? what, with me!

Pan. Because she's akin to me: therefore, she's not so fair as Helen; an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care l? I care not an she were a blackamoor, 'tis all one to me.

Troi. Say I she is not fair?

Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father: let her to the Greeks—and so I'll tell her the next time I see her--for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more i' th' matter.

Troi. Pandarus
Pan. Not I.
Troi. Sweet Pandarus

Pan. Pray you speak no more to me I will leave all as I found itand there's an end.

Malice.
How like a fawning publican he looks !
I hate him, for he is a Christian;
But more for that, in low simplicity,
He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation, and he rails
Ev'n there where merchants most do congregate,
On me, my bargains, and my well won thrift,
Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe
If I forgive him.

Jealousy.
How blest am I
In my just censure! in my true opinions
Alack for lesser knowledge-how accurs'd
In being so bless'd! There may be in the cup
A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart,
And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
Is not infected; but if one present
The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider!

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Columbia.
COLUMBIA, Columbia, to glory arise ;
The queen of the world, and the child of the skies;
Thy genius commands thee; with rapture behold,
While ages on ages thy splendours unfold.
Thy reign is the last, and the noblest of time,
Most fruitful thy soil, most inviting thy clime ;
Let the crimes of the east ne'er encrimson thy name,
Be freedom, and science, and virtue, thy fame.

To conquest and slaughter let Europe aspire ;
Whelm nations in blood, and wrap cities in fire ;
Thy heroes the rights of mankind shall defend,
And triumph pursue them, and glory attend.
A world is thy realm : for a world be thy laws,
Enlarg'd as thine empire, and just as thy cause ;
On freedom's broad basis thy empire shall rise,
Extend with the main, and dissolve with the skies.

Fair science her gates to thy sons shall unbar,
And the east see thy morn hide the beams of her star;
New bards, and new sages, unrivalled shall soar
To fame unextinguish'd, till time is no more.
To thee, the last refuge of virtue design'd,
Shall Ay from all nations the best of mankind :
Here, grateful to Heaven, with transport shall bring
Their incense, more fragrant than odours of spring.

Nor less shall thy fair ones to glory ascend,
And genius and beauty in harmony blend ;
The graces of form shall awake pure desire,
And the charms of the soul ever cherish the fire :
Their sweetness unmingled, their manners refin'd,
And virtue's bright image, instamp'd on the mind,
With peace and soft rapture, shall teach life to glow,
And light up a smile in the aspect of wo.

Thy Heets to all regions thy power shall display,
The nations admire, and the ocean obey ;
Each shore to thy glory its tribute unfold,
And the east and the south yield their spices and gold.
As the day spring unbounded, thy splendour shall flow,
And earth's little kingdoms before thee shall bow,
While the ensigns of Union, in triumph unfurlid,
Hush the tumult of war, and give peace to the world.

Thus, as down a lone valley, with cedars o'erspread,
From war's dread confusion I pensively stray'd ;
The gloom from the face of fair heaven retir'd ;
The winds ceas'd to murmur; the thunders expir'd ;
Perfumes, as of Eden, flow'd sweetly along,
And a voice, as of angels, enchantingly sung,
6 Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,
The queen of the world, and the child of the skies."

Washington and Liberty.
O YE sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought,

For those rights, which unstain'd from your sires had descended! May you long taste the blessings your valour has bought,

And your sons reap the soil, which your fathers defended, Mid the reign of mild peace, may your nation increase, With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece ;

For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,

While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves.
While the fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway,

Had with justice ennobled our nation in story,
Till the dark clouds of faction obscurd our young day,

And envelop'd the sun of America's glory.
But let traitors be told, who their country have sold,
And barter'd their God, for an image of gold,

That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,

While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. Tis the fire of the flint each American warms :

Then shou'd Rone's haughty victors beware of collision ! Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms,

We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division ! While with patriot pride, to our laws we're allied, There's no foe can subdue us, no faction divide ;

For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,

While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. Lo! our mountains are crown'd with imperial oak,

Whose deep roots, like our liberties, ages have nourish'd, But before our dear country submits to the yoke,

Not a tree shall be left on the fields where it flourish'd. Should invasion impend, ev'ry grove would descend, From the hillitops they shaded, our shores to defend ;

For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,

While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. Let our patriots destroy anarch's pestilent worm,

Lest our liberty's growth should be check'd by corrosion;
Then let clouds thicken round us, we heed not the storm;

For our realm fears no shock, but the earth's own explosion.
Foes assail us in vain, though their fleets bridge the main,
For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain ;

And ne'er shall the scns of Columbia be slaves,

While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. Should the tempest of war overshadow our land,

All its bolts could ne'er rend freedom's temple asunder;
For unmov'd at its portal would Washington stand,

And repulse, with his breast, the assaults of its thunder!
His sword from the sleep of its scabbard would leap,
And conduct, with its point, ev'ry flash to the deep;

For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears, a plant, or the sea rolls its wares.

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