205 FIGHT, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head:

"Richard III."

Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves.

Shakespeare.

206 FLOWERS laugh before thee on their beds, and fragrance in thy footing treads; thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong; and the most ancient Heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong. "Ode to Duty."

207 KING Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

"Give a Rouse."

208 WE drink the downfall of an accursed land!

Wordsworth.

Browning.

“The night is growing darker, ere one more day is flown,
Bregenz, our foeman's stronghold, Bregenz shall be our own!"
The women shrank in terror (yet pride, too, had her part),
But one poor Tyrol maiden felt death within her heart.

209. PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS.

66

THE train from out the castle drew, but Marmion stopp'd to bid adieu:-"Though something I might plain," he said, "of cold respect to stranger guest, sent hither by your King's behest, while in Tantallon's towers I staid; part we in friendship from your land, and, noble Earl, receive my hand." But Douglas round him drew his cloak, folded his arms, and thus he spoke:- My manors, halls, and bowers shall still be open, at my Sovereign's will, to each one whom he lists, howe'er unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my King's alone, from turret to foundation-stone; the hand of Douglas is his own, and never shall in friendly grasp the hand of such as Marmion clasp." Burn'd Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, and shook his very frame for ire, and – "This to me!" he said, "and 'twere not for thy hoary beard, such hand as Marmion's had not spared to cleave the Douglas' head! And first I tell thee, haughty Peer, he, who does England's message here, although the meanest n her state, may well, proud Angus, be thy mate: and, Douglas, more I tell thee here, even in thy pitch of pride, here in thy hold, thy vassals near, nay, never look upon your lord, and lay your hands upon your sword, I tell thee, thou'rt defied! And if thou said'st I am not peer to

any lord in Scotland here, lowland or highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied!" On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage o'ercame the ashen hue of age: fierce he broke forth, "And darest thou, then, to beard the lion in his den, the Douglas in his hall? And hopest thou hence unscathed to go?—No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no! Up drawbridge, grooms-what, Warder, ho! let the portcullis fall." Lord Marmion turn'd, well was his need, and dash'd the rowels in his steed, like arrow through the archway sprung, the ponderous grate behind him rung: to pass there was such scanty room, the bars, descending, razed his plume. The steed along the drawbridge flies, just as it trembled on the rise; nor lighter does the swallow skim along the smooth lake's level brim: and when Lord Marmion reach'd his band, he halts, and turns with clenched hand, and shout of loud defiance pours, and shook his gauntlet at the towers.

"Horse! horse!" the Douglas cried, "and chase!" But soon he rein'd his fury's pace: "A royal messenger he came, though most unworthy of the name. Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, I thought

to slay him where he stood. 'Tis pity of him too," he cried: "Bold can he speak, and fairly ride, I warrant him a warrior tried." With this his mandate he recalls, and slowly seeks his castle halls.

Scott.

XXVI EMOTION AND INFLECTION.

210 I AM astonished, shocked, to hear such principles confessed,- to hear them avowed in this house, or even in this country;- principles equally unconstitutional, inhuman, and unchristian!

211 PITY the sorrows of a poor old man,

Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door.

THERE is a tendency in certain emotions to modify the abruptness of the inflection. Sorrow, for example, tends to less abruptness than joy. The chief difference, however, between the expression of two emotions is in the tone-color, and not in the modulation of the inflections. Inflection is more the manifestation or language of thought, and the relation of thought to the thinker or to his audience, while tone-color manifests the feeling. The modulation of the textures of the muscles causing

the resonance of the voice manifests the feeling and emotional conditions, while the inflections give the more intellectual relations. Inflection is the chief element of form, and form does not change with color. Color reveals the depth of feeling, the form shows the essential meaning.

In studying the abruptness or gradation of inflection, the nature of minor inflections and the distinction between major and minor inflections will be made clearer. Minor inflections present many difficulties; in general they suggest the chromatic scale, while major inflections suggest the diatonic scale. Minor inflections are manifestive of weakness. Such weakness may be physical or mental, or it may be due to a lack of volitional control. Major inflections predominate in the expression of all normal emotions and characters. To say that sorrow is to be rendered by minor inflections is to misconceive wholly the nature of expression. It is not the sorrow, but the lack of control over it, the weak yielding to it, that causes minor inflections. The true expression of sorrow in a noble man implies a struggle to control it. Manly courage and resolution are important elements in the expression of sorrow. A pathetic poem is read with decided touch and inflection, or it is the expression of weakness.

The chief requisite for the proper expression of sorrow is control of breath. Pathos requires more effort to secure control over breath, and hence requires more breath: it has a stronger "vocal struggle" than any other emotion. The struggle with the sorrow shows itself in a struggle with the breath. Such a struggle requires time; hence pauses are prolonged in all expression of pathos. This retention of breath with the muscles soft gives true tone color, and is the most effective expression of pathos. It is the way a strong man speaks when in great sorrow; he does not 'whine.' Minor inflections are one of the worst faults of Vocal Expression. The cure for them depends upon the development of strength and control,-control over breath and over emotion.

Take Scott's "Maid of Neidpath," a poem, as Tennyson once remarked, "almost more pathetic than a man has a right to be," and try how any median stress or minor inflections, semitonic melodies or tremolos, will degrade it. Then, using natural touch, inflections, and intervals, express the feeling with the simplest modulation of the voice, but with great intensity.

Problem XLVII. Contrast the sorrow of a weak character with that of a strong one. Give pain with weakness and also with heroic endurance. (See No. 211.)

Problem XLVIII. Read sorrow and manifest the strength to control it, the strength that awakens to bear it, rather than the tendency to passively yield to it. Preserve definiteness of inflection as the means of revealing the thought, and manifest the feeling by modulation of texture and color.

212. THE MAID OF NEIDPATH.

O LOVERS' eyes are sharp to see, and lovers' ears in hearing;
And love, in life's extremity, can lend an hour of cheering.
Disease had been in Mary's bower and slow decay from mourning,
Though now she sits on Neidpath's tower to watch her Love's returning.

All sunk and dim her eyes so bright, her form decay'd by pining,
Till through her wasted hand, at night, you saw the taper shining.
By fits a sultry hectic hue across her cheek was flying;

By fits so ashy pale she grew her maidens thought her dying.

Yet keenest powers to see and hear seem'd in her frame residing;
Before the watch-dog prick'd his ear she heard her lover's riding;
Ere scarce a distant form was kenn'd she knew and waved to greet him,
And o'er the battlement did bend as on the wing to meet him.

He came―he pass'd—an heedless gaze as o'er some stranger glancing;
Her welcome, spoke in falterin phrase, lost in his courser's prancing-
The castle-arch, whose hollow te returns each whisper spoken,
Could scarcely catch the feeble moan which told her heart was broken.

213 EARL March look'd on his dying child,

And smit with grief to view her

The youth, he cried, whom I exiled,

Shall be restored to woo her.

Scott.

She's at the window many an hour
His coming to discover:

And he look'd up to Ellen's bower,
And she look'd on her lover-

But ah! so pale, he knew her not,

Though her smile on him was dwelling-
And am I then forgot-forgot?

It broke the heart of Ellen.

In vain he weeps, in vain he sighs,

Her cheek is cold as ashes;

Nor love's own kiss shall wake those eyes

To lift their silken lashes.

T. Campbell.

Problem XLIX. Contrast emotions and note the true and the false differences that may occur.

214 WILT thou be gone? It is not yet near day:

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings in yon pomegranate-tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

"Romeo and Juliet."

Shakespeare.

215 THE moving moon went up the sky, and nowhere did abide: softly she was going up, and a star or two beside her beams bemocked the sultry main, like April hoar-frost spread; but where the ship's huge shadow lay, the charmèd water burnt alway, a still and awful red.

216 LOVE had he found in huts where poor men lie;

The silence that is in the starry sky,

His daily teachers had been woods and rills,

The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

Coleridge.

Wordsworth.

217 STREW on her roses, roses, and never a spray of yew.

In quiet she reposes: ah! would that I did too.

Her mirth the world required: she bathed it in smiles of glee,

But her heart was tired, tired, and now they let her be.

Her life was turning, turning, in mazes of heat and sound.

But for peace her soul was yearning, and now peace laps her round.

Her cabined, ample spirit, it fluttered and failed for breath.

To-night it doth inherit the vasty Hall of Death.

"Requiescat."

Matthew Arnold.