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20 “ Art thou a friend to Roderick ?"-"No."
“ Thou darest not call thyself a foe?”
“Bold words !—but, though the beast of game 25 The privilege of chase may claim,
Though space and law the stag we lend, Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, Who ever reck’d, where, how, or when,
The prowling fox was trapp'd or slain ?
Who say thou cam'st a secret spy !"
And let me but till morning rest,
“ If by the blaze I mark aright,
Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight.” “Then, by these tokens may'st thou know
Each proud oppressor's mortal foe.”— 40 “ Enough, enough; sit down and share
A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare."
45. Address to the Mummy.
In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago,
And time had not begun to overthrow
Thou hast a tongue-come, let us hear its tune :
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon,
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?
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 wbich at sunrise played ? Perhaps thon wert a Priest-if so, my struggles
Are vain ;-Egyptian priests ne'er owned their juggles. 5 Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat,
Has hob-a-nobb’d with Pharaoh glass to glass : Or dropp'd a halfpenny in Homer's hat,
Or doft'd thine own to let Queen Dido pass, Or held, by Solomon's own invitation,
A torch at the great Temple’s dedication. 6 I need not ask thee if that hand, when arm’d,
Has any Roman soldier maul'd and knuckled,
Ere Romulus and Remus had been suckled :
We have above ground seen some strange mutations;
New worlds have risen- we have lost old nations, And countless kings have into dust been humbled,
While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled. 8 Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head,
When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses,
O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis,
When the gigantic Memnon fell asunder? 9 If the tomb's secrets may not be confess'd,
The nature of thy private life unfold :-
And tears adown that dusky cheek have rolld;
Have childrer climb'd those knees, and kiss'd that face!
Statue of flesh-immortal of the dead !
Imperishable type of evanescence!
And standest undecayed within our presence,
11 Why should this worthless tegument endure,
If its undying guest be lost forever ?
In living virtue ; that when both must sever,
Iugo. My noble lord-
Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you wooed iny lady,
Oth. He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
Iago. But for a satisfaction of my thought ;
Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago ?
Iago. Indeed ?
Iago. Honest, my lord ?
Iago. Think, my lord ?
As if there were some monster in thy thought
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 ?"
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,
That passion cannot rule.
Oth. I think so too.
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.
Oth. Nay, yet there's more in this :
As thou dost ruminate : and give thy worst of thoughts 50 The worst of words.
Ingo. Good my lord, pardon me ;
Utter my thoughts !- Why, say, they are vile and false? 55 And where's that palace, whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? Who has a breast so pure,
Mal. I know him now. Pray heaven, betimes remove 5 The means that makes us strangers !
Rosse. Sir, Amen.
Rosse. Alas, poor country ! Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot 10 Be called our mother, but our grave; where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
A modern ecstasy : the dead man's knell 15 Is there scarce asked, for whom; and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Macd. O, relation,
Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker.
Macd. How does my wife?
-I have words,
Macd. What concern they?
Rosse. No mind, that's honest,