20" Art thou a friend to Roderick ?"—"No." Though space and law the stag we lend, They do, by heaven?-Come Roderick Dhu, And let me but till morning rest, 35 I write the falsehood on their crest.' "If by the blaze I mark aright, Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight." 40" Enough, enough; sit down and share Scott. 1 And thou hast walk'd about (how strange a story!) In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago, And time had not begun to overthrow 2 Speak! for thou long enough hast acted Dummy, Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures, But with thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features. 3 Tell us for doubtless thou canst recollect, To whom should we assign the sphinx's fame ? Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect Of either Pyramid that bears his name? Is Pompey's pillar really a misnomer! Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer? 4 Perhaps thou wert a Mason, and forbidden By oath to tell the mysteries of thy trade; Then say what secret melody was hidden In Memnon's statue which at sunrise played? Or doff'd thine own to let Queen Dido pass, 6 I need not ask thee if that hand, when arm'd, Long after thy primeval race was run. 7 Since first thy form was in this box extended, We have above ground seen some strange mutations; The Roman empire has begun and ended; New worlds have risen-we have lost old nations, And shook the Pyramids with fear and wonder, 9 If the tomb's secrets may not be confess'd, A heart has throbb'd beneath that leathern breast, Have childrer climb'd those knees, and kiss'd that face? 10 Statue of flesh-immortal of the dead! 11 5 10 15 20 Posthumous man, who quitt'st thy narrow bed, Why should this worthless tegument endure, O let us keep the soul embalmed and pure In living virtue; that when both must sever, Iago. My noble lord Oth. What dost thou say, Iago? Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you wooed my lady, Know of your love? Oth. He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask? No further harm. Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago? lago. I did not think, he had been acquainted with her. Oth. Indeed! ay, indeed :-Discern'st thou aught in that? Is he not honest? Iago. Honest, my lord? Oth. Ay, honest. Iago. My lord, for aught I know. Oth. What dost thou think? Iago. Think, my lord? Oth. Think, my lord? Why, thou dost echo me, As if there were some monster in thy thought Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something; I heard thee say but now, "Thou lik'dst not that,”When Cassio left my wife. What didst not like? 25 And when I told thee, he was of my counsel In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst," Indeed?” And didst contract and purse thy brow together, As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me, 30 Show me thy thought. Iago. My lord, you know I love you. Oth. I think, thou dost : And, for I know thou art full of love and honesty, And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath, 35 Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more: For such things, in a false, disloyal knave, 40 Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just, Iago. For Michael Cassio, I dare be sworn, I think that he is honest. Iago. Men should be what they seem; Or, those that be not, 'would they might seem none ! 45 Oth. Certain, men should be what they seem. Iago. Why then, I think that Cassio's an honest man. I pray thee, speak to me as to thy thinkings, : As thou dost ruminate and give thy worst of thoughts 50 The worst of words. Iago. Good my lord, pardon me ; Though I am bound to every act of duty, I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. Utter my thoughts?—Why, say, they are vile and false? Keep leets, and law-days, and in sessions sit Shakspeare. Macd. SEE, who comes here? Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not. Mal. I know him now. Pray heaven, betimes remove 5 The means that makes us strangers! Rosse. Sir, Amen. Macd. Stands Scotland where it did? Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot 10 Be called our mother, but our grave; where nothing, 15 Is there scarce asked, for whom; and good men's lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, 20 25 30 Dying, or e'er they sicken. Macd. O, relation, Too nice, and yet too true! Mal. What is the newest grief? Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker. Each minute teems a new one. Macd. How does my wife? Rosse. Why, well. Macd. And all my children? Rosse. Well too. Macd. The tyrant has not battered at their peace? Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech; how goes it? That would be howled out in the desert air, Where hearing should not latch them. Macd. What concern they? The general cause? or is it a fee-grief, 35 Due to some single breast? Rosse. No mind, that's honest, But in it shares some woe; though the main part |