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Were kept in h'ostage; a full field presenting
For Scipio's generosity/ to shin'e.A n'oble-virgin,
(Conspicuous fa'r/ o'er all the captive da'mes)

Was marked the general's-prize. She w'ept, and blus'hed;
Youn'g, fresh, and bloo'ming, like the mor'n.
An e'ye,

As when the blue sky trembles through a cloud
Of purest white. A secret charm combined
Her features, and infused enchantment through-them.
Her shape was ha'rmony. But/ eloquence
Beneath her beauty fails; which seem ́ed/ on purpose/
By nature la'vished-on-her, that mankin'd
Might see the virtue of a hero tr'ied

Almo'st beyond the stretch-of hu'man-force.
Soft as she passed alon`g/ with downcast ey'es,
(Where gentle sorrow swell'ed, and, no'w and the'n,
Dropped o'er her modest che`eks/ a trickling te'ar)
The Roman l'egions lan'guished, and hard wa'r
Felt more than pity; even their chief himself,
(As on his high tribu'nal raised he s'at)

Turned from the dangerous sight, a'nd (ch'iding) asked
His officers, i'f/ by this gift/ they meant

To clou'd-his-glory/ in its very da wn.

S'he (questioned of her birth) in trembling a'ccents
(With tears and blus'hes br'oken) told her t'ale.
But, when he found her ro^yally-descended;
Of her old captive parents/ the so'le-joy ;
And that a hapless/ Celtiberian prin'ce,
(Her lover, and bel'oved) forgot his chains,
His lost domin'ions, and for her alone
Wept out his tender s'oul; sudden the hea'rt

Of this you'ng, co'nquering, lov'ing, godlˇike-Roman,
Felt all the great divi'nity of virtue.

His wishing yo'uth stood che'cked, his tempting pow`er/,
Restrained/ by kind humanity.-At once

He for her parents, and her lo'ver called.
The various sc'ene ima'gine. How his troops

it either ends a sentence, or occurs before a personal pronoun in the accu-
sative case, when it assumes the broad sound ov.-Example:
"We never
know the true value uv time till we are deprived ov it." By, also, has
been considered as subject to a double sound, as if written be, but this
pronunciation is only admissible in the lighter species of composition, or
in familiar conversation; as, be the by (" by the by.")

Looked dubious o'n, and wondered what he meant ;
While stretched belo'w, the trembling suppliants lay',
Racked by a thousand mingling pas'sions-fea'r,
Ho'pe, jealousy, disdai'n, subm'ission, grief,
Anxiety, and lo've/ in every shap'e.

To thes'e, as different sentiments succee'ded,
As mixed emo'tions, when the man divi'ne
Thu's the dread silence/ to the lo ́ver bro`ke :

"We both are young; both char'med. The right of w'ar/ "Has put thy beauteous mi'stress/ in my power; "With whom I could (in the most sa'cred ti'es) "Live out a happy li'fe. But kn`ow, that Roˇmans, "Their hea^rts, as well as enemies, can co^nquer. "Then take her to thy soul; and, with-her, take Thy liberty and kingdom. In retu'rn/

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"I ask but thi's-when you behold these eyes,

"These cha^rms/ with tra'nsport, be a friend/ to Rome."Ecstatic wo'nder held the lovers mu'te ;

While the loud cam'p, and all the clust'ering crowd/
That hung around, rang with repeated sho`uts.
Fam'e took the alar'm, and, through resounding Spai'n/
Blew fast the fair repo'rt; whi'ch, mo`re than arm's,
Admi'ring na'tions/ to the R'omans gained.



My brave associates-par'tners of my to'il, my feel'ings, and my fa'me! Can Rolla's wor^ds/ add vigour to the virtuous en ergies/ which inspire your hearts? No';-you have judged (as I have) the foulness of the crafty pl'ea/ by which these bold invaders/ would delu`de-you. Your generous spirit has compared (as mine h'as) the motives/ which (in a war like this) can animate their minds and ours. They (by a strange frenzy driven) fight for po'wer, for plun'der, and extended-rule; we for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer/ whom they fear, and ob'ey a po'wer/ which they h'ate ;-w'e/ serve a mo`narch/ whom we love, a God whom we adore. When'e'er they move in anʼger/ desol ́ation/ tracks their progress! Wher'e'er they

pause in a'mity, affl'iction/ mourns their frien'dship. They boa'st, they com'e/ but to improve our sta'te, enlarge our thoughts, and free-us/ from the yok'e of er'ror! Ye's—the y will give enlightened freedom to our min'ds, who are themselves the slaves of pa'ssion, a'varice, and pri'de. They offer us their protection-Ye's, such prote'ction/ as vultures give to lambs-co'vering and devou ring-them. They call on us to baʼrter all of goo'd/ we have inherited and pr'oved, for the desperate cha'nce of something better/ which they pro`mise. Be our plain a'nswer thi's: The throne/ we honour/ is the people's choice; the law's/ we re'verence/ are our brave fa'thers' legacy;-the faith'/ we fol'low/ teach'es-us/ to live in bon'ds of charity/ with al'l mankind, and di'e/ with hop'e of bl'iss/ beyond the grave. Tell your invaders th'is, and tell them too, we see'k no cha'nge; a'nd/ least of all, such cha'nge/ as they/ would bring-us.



Wol. FAREWELL, a long-farewell/ to all my grea`tness! Th'is/ is the state of ma'n; to-da`y/ he puts forth The tender leaves of hope; to-morrow/ blossoms, And bears his blushing honours/ thick upon him; The third-day comes a frost-(a killing-frost), And/ when he thinks (good easy m'an) full surely His greatness is a ri'pening, nip's his sh'oot; And the'n/ he falls, as I'-do. I have ventured, (Like little wanton boy's, that swim on bl'adders) These many sum'mers/ in a sea of gl'ory; But fa'r/ beyond my d'epth: my high-blown pr'ide/ At length/ broke un'der me; and now has le'ft-me (Weary and old with se'rvice) to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide'-me. Vain po'mp and glo`ry of the world, I hat`e ye! I feel my hea ́rt new op'ened. Oh, how wretched Is tha't-poor-man/ that hangs on prinˇces'-favours! There is', (betwixt that smile he would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and his r'uin,) More pan'gs and fear's/ than wa'r or woˇmen-have;

And/ when he f'alls, he falls like Lucifer,

Nev'er to h'ope again.

Why, how n'ow, Cromwell?

Crom. I have no p'ower to speak, Sir.
Wol. Wh'at! amaz`ed

At my misfortunes?

Can thy spirit wonder

A great ma'n/ should dec'line ?-Na'y, if you w'eep,
I'm fal'len inde^ed.

Crom. How does your Grace?

Wol. W'hy, we'll;

Never so truly happy (my good Cromwell.)
I know myself now, and I feel with ́in me
(A pe'ace/ above all eart'hly di'gnities);

A st'ill, and qui'et-conscience. The kin'g/ has cur'ed me ;
I humbly thank his Gra'ce; and, from these sho ́ulders,
These ruined pillars/, out of pity t'aken

(A load would sink a navy) too much honour.

O, 'tis a b'urden, (Cro'mwell) 'tis a bu^rden

Too heavy for a man/ that hop'es for heaven!

Crom. I'm glad your Gra'ce/ has made that right-u ́se o'f-it. Wol. I hope I ha've; I'm able no`w, meth ́inks,

(Out of a fortitude of soul I feel)

To endure mor`e-miseries, and greaˇter-far,
Than my weak-hearted e'nemies/ dare o'ffer.-

*"Thy." Of the pronunciation(t) of this possessive pronoun, the following rule may be observed: When the subject is raised, or the person dignified, it ought always to be pronounced so as to rhyme with high; but, when the subject is familiar, or the person we address without dignity or importance, it may slide into the familiar sound of the thus, "Give me the (thy) hand;" "Mind the (thy) book," &c.

we say,

(†) There are few English words more frequently mispronounced than the word pronunciation. A mere English scholar, who considers the word to pronounce as the root of it, cannot easily conceive why the o is thrown out of the second syllable; and, therefore, to correct the mistake, sounds the word as if written pronounciation. Those who are sufficiently learned to escape this error, by understanding that the word comes to us either from the Latin pronunciatio, or the French prononciation, are very apt to fall into another, by sinking the first aspiration, and pronouncing the third syllable like the noun sea. But these speakers ought to observe, that, throughout the whole language, c, s, and t, preceded by the accent, either primary or secondary, and succeeded by ea, ia, io, long u, or any similar diphthong, always become aspirated, and are pronounced as if written ske. Thus the same reasons that oblige us to pronounce partiality, propitiation, especially, &c. as if written parsheality, propisheashun, espeshally, &c. oblige us to pronounce pronunciation as if written pronunsheashun.

What ne'ws abroad?

Crom. The heaviest and the wor'st I's/ your displeasure with the king'.

Wol. G'od ble'ss-him!

Crom. The n'ext is, that Sir Thomas Mo're/ is chosen Lord Chancellor/ in you'r-place.

Wol. That's somewhat su'dden

B'ut/ he's a lea'rned-man. May he continue
Long in his Highness' fav'our, and do justice

(For truth's sa'ke and his co'nscience ;) that his b'ones (When he has run his course, and sleeps in ble'ssings) May have a tomb of or'phans' tears/ wep't-on-them!— What more?

Crom. That Cr'anmer/ is returned with we'lcome;
Installed/ Lor'd Arch'bishop of Canterbury.
Wol. That's news/ inde^ed!

Crom. La'st, that the Lady A'nne,

Whom the King hath in s'ecrecy long m'arried,) This day was vi'ewed in o`pen/ as his Qu'een, Go'ing to ch'apel; and the voice is n'ow

Only about her corona'tion.

Wol. There was the weight/ that pulled me dow'n :
O Crom'well!

The kin'g/ has gone beyond me; all my glories
(In th`at/ on e-woman) I have lo'st for ever!
No sun shall ever usher fo`rth my honours,
Or gild aga'in/ the no'ble-troops/ that waited
Upon my s'miles. Go', get thee from me, Cro'mwell;
I am a p'oor/ fa'llen-man, unworthy now'

To be thy lo`rd and m'aster. Seek the ki`ng,
(That-sun/ I pra'y/ may ne`ver-set,) I've told him
Wh'at, and how true thou art; h'e will advan'ce-thee;
Some little memory of me will st ́ir-him,

(I know his noble n'ature), not to let
Th^y-hopeful-service/ perish to'o. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use n'ow, and provi'de
For thine own/ fu^ture safety.

Crom. O' my Lor'd!

Must I then leave-you? Must I needs fo'rego
So good, so no'ble, and so tru^e a ma ́ster?
Bear witness (all that have not hearts of iron)
With what a so'rrow/ Crom'well leaves his Lo'rd.

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