« VorigeDoorgaan »
To cast into my teeth. There is my dagger,
Bru. Sheath your dagger,
Cas. Hath Cassius liv'd
Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me,
Bru. Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth,
II:-SPEECHES AND SOLILOQUIES.
1.-Hamlet's Advice to the Players. SPEAK the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it ta you; trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier bad spoken my lines. And do not saw the air too much with your hands; but use all gently: For in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness. Oh! it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious, peribig pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, ta split the ears of the groundlings; who, (for the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. Pray you avoid it.
Be not too tame, neither; bút let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit' the action to the word, the word to the action ; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature ; for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing: whose end is to hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicioua grieve; the censure of one of which must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. Oh! There be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, that, neither having the accent of Christian, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journey. men had made and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
II.--Douglas' Account of Himself.
MY name is Norval. On the Grampian hills
I left my father's house, and took with me
III-Douglas' Account of the Hermit.
BENEATH a mountain's brow, the most remote And inaccessible, by shepherds trod, In a deep cave, dug by no mortal hand, A hermit liv'd; a melancholy man, Who was the wonder of our wand'ring swains. Austere and lonely, cruel to himself, Did they report him; the cold earth his bed, Water his drink, his food the shepherd's alms. I went to see him; and my heart was touch'd With rev'rence and with pity. Mild he spake, And, entering on discourse, such stories told, As made me oft revisit his sad cell, For he had been a soldier in his youth; And fought in famous battles, when the peers Of Europe, by the bold Godfredo led, Against th' usurping infidel display'd The blessed cross, and won the Holy Land. Pleas'd with my admiration, and the fire His speech struck from me, the old man would shake His years away, and act his young encounters : Then, having show'd his wounds, he'd sit him down, And all the live-long day discourse of war. To help my fancy, in the smooth green turf He cut the figures of the marshall'd hosts; Describ'd the motions, and explain'd the use Of the deep column and the lengthen d line, The square, the crescent, and the phalanx firm; For all that Saracen or Christian knew Of war's vast art, was to this hermit known.
IV.Sempronius' Speech for War. MY voice is still for war. Gods ! Cap a Roman senate long debate, Which of the two to choose, slavery or death! No-let us rise at once, gird on our swords, And, at the head of our remaining troops, Attack the foe, break through the thick array Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him. Perhaps some arm more lucky than the rest, May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage. Rise, Fathers, rise ; 'tis Rome demands your help: Rise and revenge her slaughter'd citizens, Or share their fate. The corpse of half her senate Manure the fields of Thessaly, while we
Sit here, deliberating in cold debates,
V.-Lucius' Speech for Peace.
VI.—Hotspur's Account of the Fop,
I then, all smarting with my wounds, being gallid
VII.-Hotspur's Soliloquy on the contents of a Letter.
BUT, for mine own part, my Lord, I could be well contented to be there in respect of the love I bear your house."—He could be contented to be there! Why is he not then? In respect of the love he bears our house ? He shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more.
“ The purpose you undertake is dangerous.”—Why that's certain : 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink : but I tell you, my lord Fool, out of this nettle danger, we pluck this flower safely. “ The purpose you undertake is dangerous ; the friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself, unsorted; and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so great an opposition."--Say you so, say you so ! I say unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lackbrain is this! Our plot is as good a plot as ever was laid ; our friends true and constant; a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very
What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, I would brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself : Lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower ? Is there not, besides, the Douglasses ? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in