Ges. I'd see thee hit an apple on his head,
Three hundred paces off.

Tell. Great Heaven!

Ges. On this condition only will I spare
His life and thine.

Tell. Ferocious monster! make a father
Murder his own child!

Ges. Dost thou consent?

Tell. With his own hand!

The hand I've led him when an infant by!
My hands are free from blood, and have no gus
For it, that they should drink my child's.
I'll not murder my boy for Gesler!

Boy. You will not hit me, father.

You'll be sui

To hit the apple. Will you not save me, father?
Tell. Lead me forth-I'll make the trial.
Boy. Father-

Tell. Speak not to me;

Let me not hear thy voice-Thou must be dumb,

And so should all things be-Earth should be dumb,

And heaven, unless its thunder muttered at

The deed, and sent a bolt to stop it.—

Give me my bow and quiver.

Ges. When all is ready. Sarnem, measure hence

The distance three hundred paces.

Tell. Will he do it fairly?

Ges. What is't to thee, fairly or not?

Tell. (Sarcastically.) Oh, nothing, a little thing!

A very little thing! I only shoot

At my child! [Sarnem prepares to measure.]
Villain, stop! You measure 'gainst the sun.
Ges. And what of that?

What matter whether to or from the sun?

Tell. I'd have it at my back. The sun should shine
Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots :-

I will not shoot against the sun.

Ges. Give him his way. [Sarnem paces and goes out.]

Tell. I should like to see the apple I must hit.

Ges. [Picks out the smallest one.] There, take that.

Tell. You've picked the smallest one.

Ges. I know I have. Thy skill will be

The greater if thou hittest it.

Tell. [Sarcastically.] True!-true! I did not think of that;

I wonder I did not think of that. A larger one

Had given me a chance to save my boy.—

Give me my bow. Let me see my quiver.

Ges. Give him a single arrow. [To an attendant.]
[Tell looks at it and breaks it.]

Tell. Let me see my quiver. It is not

One arrow in a dozen I would use

To shoot with at a dove, much less a dove
Like that.

Ges. Show him the quiver.

[Sarnem returns, and takes the apple and the boy to place them. While

this is doing, Tell conceals an arrow under his garment. He then selects another arrow, and says]

Tell. Is the boy ready? Keep silence now
For Heaven's sake, and be my witnesses,
That, if his life's in peril from my hand,
'Tis only for the chance of saving it.

For mercy's sake keep motionless and silent!

[He aims and shoots in the direction of the boy. In a moment Sarnem enters with the apple on the arrow's point.]

Sarnem. The boy is safe.

Tell. [Raising his arms.] Thank Heaven!

[As he raises his arms the concealed arrow falls.]

Ges. [Picking it up.] Unequalled archer!-why was this concealed?

Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy.

XII.—THE BANISHMENT OF CATILINE.-Croly.

Cicero. Fathers and Senators-no need for further proof
Of this rebellion.--Lucius Catiline

Has been commanded to attend the senate.

He dares not come. I now demand your votes,-
Is he condemned to exile?

[Catiline enters hastily, and takes a seat.]
Here I repeat the charge, to gods and men,
Of treasons manifold;-that but this day,
He has received despatches from the rebels-
That he has leagued with deputies from Gaul
To seize the province; nay, has levied troops,
And raised his rebel standard;-that but now
A meeting of conspirators was held

Under his roof, with mystic rites and oaths,
Pledged round the body of a murdered slave.—
To these he has no answer.

Catiline. Conscript Fathers!

I do not rise to waste the night in words;
Let that plebeian talk, 'tis not my trade:

But here I stand for right. Let him show proofs!—
For Roman right; though none it seems dare stand
To take their share with me. Ay, cluster there,
Cling to your master; judges-Romans-slaves!
His charge is false;-I dare him to his proofs.
You have my answer now! I must be gone.

Cic. Bring back the armour of the Gaulish king;

Which, as I told you, was this evening seized
Within his house. You know them, Catiline ?

Cat. The axe and helmet of the Allobroges! (aside)
Know them! What crimination's there? what tongue
Lives in that helm to charge me? Cicero-
Go search my house, you may find twenty such,
All fairly struck from brows of barbarous kings,
When you and yours were plotting here in Rome.
I say, go search my house. And is this all?
I scorn to tell you by what chance they came.-
Where have I levied troops-tampered with slaves—

Bribed fool or villain to embark his neck
In this rebellion? Let my actions speak.

Cic. Deeds shall convince you! Has the traitor done?
Cat. But this I will avow, that I have scorned,
And still do scorn, to hide my sense of wrong:
Who brands me on the forehead, breaks my sword,
Or lays the bloody scourge upon my back,
Can't wrong me half so much as he who shuts
The gates of honour on me-turning out

The Roman from his birthright; and for what?—
To fling your offices to every slave-

Vipers that creep where man disdains to climb;
And having wound their loathsome track to the top
Of this huge mouldering monument of Rome,
Hang hissing at the noble man below.

Cic. This is his answer! Must I bring more proofs?
Fathers, you know there lives not one of us

But is in peril of his midnight sword.

Lists of proscription have been handed round,
In which your general properties are made

Your murderer's hire. Bring in the prisoners.

[Cethegus and the conspirators are brought in by the lictors, who deliver several papers to Cicero.]

Cat. Cethegus! (aside.)

Cic. Fathers! those stains to their high name and blood Came to my house to murder me; and came

Suborned by him.

Cat. Cethegus! did you say this?
Cethegus.

Not I. I went to kill

A prating, proud plebeian, whom those fools
Palmed on the consulship.

Cic.
And sent by whom?
Ceth. By none.-By nothing but my zeal to purge
The senate of yourself, most learned Cicero !

Cic. Fathers of Rome! If man can be convinced

By proof as clear as daylight, there it stands!
Those men have been arrested at the gates,
Bearing despatches to raise war in Gaul.
Look on these letters! Here's a deep-laid plot
To wreck the province; a solemn league,

Made with all form and circumstance. The time
Is desperate,- -all the slaves are up;-Rome shakes!
The heavens alone can tell how near our graves
We stand even here!-The name of Catiline
Is foremost in the league. He was their king.-
Tried and convicted traitor, go from Rome!

Cat. Come, consecrated lictors! from your thrones;
Fling down your sceptres-take the rod and axe,

And make the murder as you make the law.

Cic. Give up the record of his banishment.

[To a lictor. The lictor gives it to the Consul.] [The Consul reads.) "Lucius Sergius Catiline, by the decree of the Senate, you are declared a traitor, an enemy, and an alien to the State, and banished from the territory of the Commonwealth."

Cat. Banished from Rome! What's "banished," but set free From daily contact of the things I loathe?

Tried and convicted traitor!" Who says this? Who'll prove it, at his peril, on my head?

Banished?-I thank you for't.

It breaks my chain:
I held some slack allegiance till this hour-
But now my sword's my own. Smile on, my lords;
I scorn to count what feelings, withered hopes,
Strong provocations, bitter, burning wrongs,
I have within my heart's hot cells shut up,
To leave you in your lazy dignities.

But here I stand and scoff you: here I fling
Hatred and full defiance in your face.

Your Consul's merciful.-For this all thanks.

He dares not touch a hair of Catiline!

Consul. Lictors, now drive the traitor from the temple! Cat. "Traitor!". -I go-but I return. This-trial! Here I devote your Senate! I've had wrongs

To stir a fever in the blood of age,

Or make the infant's sinews strong as steel.

This day's the birth of sorrows! This hour's work

Will breed proscriptions.Look to your hearths, my lords!
For there henceforth shall sit, for household gods,

Shapes hot from Tartarus-all shames and crimes ;—
Wan Treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn;
Suspicion, poisoning his brother's cup;

Naked Rebellion, with the torch and axe,
Making his wild sport of your blazing thrones;
Till Anarchy come down on you like night,
And Massacre seal Rome's eternal grave!

Consul. Go, enemy and parricide, from Rome!
Cat. It shall be so! When Catiline comes again,
Your grandeur shall be base, and clowns shall sit
In scorn upon those chairs;-Your palaces
Shall see the soldier's revels, and your wealth
Shall go to deck his menial, or his horse.
Then Cicero, and his tools, shall pay me blood-
And such of you as cannot find the grace
To die with swords in your right hands, shall feel
The life, life worse than death, of trampled slaves!
Cic. Expel him, lictors! Clear the senate house!
Cat. I go, but not to leap the gulf alone:
I go;-but when I come-'twill be the burst
Of ocean in the earthquake-rolling back
In swift and mountainous ruin. Fare you well!
You build my funeral pile; but your best blood
Shall quench its flame.-Back, slaves! [To the lictors.]
I will return!

KIII. SIR EDWARD MORTIMER AND WILFORD.

Sir E. Wilford, approach me.-What am I to say For aiming at your life ?-Do you not scorn me, Despise me for it?

Wilf.
Sir E.

I! Oh, Sir!

You must;

Indeed, indeed, Sir,

For I am singled from the herd of men,
A vile, heart-broken wretch!

Wilf.

You deeply wrong yourself. Your equal's love,

The poor man's prayer, the orphan's tear of gratitude,
All follow you:-and I-I owe you all!

I am most bound to bless you.

Sir E.

Mark me, Wilford:-
I know the value of the orphan's tear,

The poor man's prayer, respect from the respected ;
I feel, to merit these and to obtain them,

-Colman.

Is to taste here below, that thrilling cordial
Which the remunerating Angel draws
From the eternal fountain of delight,
To pour on blessed souls that enter Heaven.
I feel this-I-How must my nature, then,
Revolt at him who seeks to stain his hand
In human blood?-and yet, it seems, this day
I sought your life.-Oh! I have suffered madness!
None know my tortures,-pangs!-But I can end them;
End them as far as appertains to thee.-

I have resolved it.-Fearful struggles tear me:
But I have pondered on't, and I must trust thee.
Wilf. Your confidence shall not be-

Sir E.

You must swear.

Wilf. Swear, Sir!—will nothing but an oath, then-
Sir E.

May all the ills that wait on frail humanity

Be doubled on your head, if you disclose

My fatal secret! May your body turn

Listen.

Most lazar-like and loathsome; and your mind
More loathsome than your body! May those fiends,
Who strangle babes for very wantonness,

Shrink back, and shudder at your monstrous crimes,
And, shrinking, curse you! Palsies strike your youth!
And the sharp terrors of a guilty mind

Poison your aged days! while all your nights,
As on the earth you lay your houseless head,
Out-horror horror! May you quit the world
Abhorred, self-hated, hopeless for the next,
Your life a burden, and your death a fear!
Wilf. For mercy's sake, forbear! you terrify me!
Sir E. Hope this may fall upon thee:
By every attribute which heaven or earth
Can lend, to bind and strengthen conjuration,
If thou betrayest me.

-Swear thou hopest it,

Wilf. Sir E.

Well, I

[Hesitating.]

No retreating!