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Her place is empty, and another comes)

To wither like the blossom in the bud, In anguish, in the ghastliness of death ;

Those of a wife, a mother; leaving there Hers nevermore to leave those mournful walls, A cheerless void, a chill as of the grave, Even on her bier.

A languor and a lethargy of soul, 'T is over ; and the rite, Death-like, and gathering more and more, till With all its pomp and harmony, is now

Death Floating before her. She arose at home, Comes to release thee. Ah ! what now to thee, To be the show, the idol of the day;

What now to thee the treasures of thy youth ? Her vesture gorgeous, and her starry head, As nothing ! No rocket, bursting in the midnight sky, So dazzling. When to-morrow she awakes, She will awake as though she still was there, Still in her father's house ; and lo, a cell

IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON. Narrow and dark, naught through the gloom discerned,

IPHIGENEIA, when she heard her doom Naught save the crucifix and rosary,

At Aulis, and when all beside the king And the gray habit lying by to shroud

Had gone away, took his right hand, and said : Her beauty and grace.

“O father! I am young and very happy. When on her knees she fell, I do not think the pious Calchas heard Entering the solemn place of consecration, Distinctly what the goddess spake ; old age And from the latticed gallery came a chant Obscures the senses. If my nurse, who knew Of psalms, most saint-like, most angelical, My voice so well, sometimes misunderstood, Verse after verse sung out, how holily!

While I was resting on her knee both arms, The strain returning, and still, still returning, And hitting it to make her mind my words, Methought it acted like a spell upon her, And looking in her face, and she in mine, And she was casting off her earthly dross ; Might not he, also, hear one word amiss, Yet was it sad and sweet, and, ere it closed, Spoken from so far off, even from Olympus ?" Came likea dirge. When her fair head was shorn, | The father placed his cheek upon her head, And the long tresses in her hands were laid, And tears dropt down it ; but the king of men That she might fling them from her, saying, – Replied not. Then the maiden spake once more: “Thus,

“O father ! sayest thou nothing ? Hearest thou Thus I renounce the world and worldly things !" not When, as she stood, her bridal ornaments Me, whom thou ever hast, until this hour, Were one by one removed, even to the last, Listened to fondly, and awakened me That she might say, flinging them from her, To hear my voice amid the voice of birds, “ Thus,

When it was inarticulate as theirs, Thus I renounce the world !" When all was And the down deadened it within the nest ?” changed,

He moved her gently from him, silent still ; And as a nun in homeliest guise she knelt, And this, and this alone, brought tears from her, Veiled in her veil, crowned with her silver crown, Although she saw fate nearer. Then with sighs : Her crown of lilies as the spouse of Christ, “I thonght to have laid down my hair before Wellmight herstrength forsake her, and her knees | Benignant Artemis, and not dimmed Fail in that hour! Well might the holy man, Her polished altar with my virgin blood ; He at whose foot she knelt, give as by stealth I thought to have selected the white flowers ('T was in her utmost need ; nor, while she lives, | To please the nymphs, and to have asked of each Will it go from her, fleeting as it was)

By name, and with no sorrowful regret, That faint but fatherly smile, that smile of love Whether, since both my parents willed the change, And pity!

I might at Hymen's feet bend my clipt brow; Like a dream the whole is fled ; And (after these who mind us girls the most) And they that came in idleness to gaze

Adore our own Athene, that she would Upon the victim dressed for sacrifice

Regard me mildly with her azure eyes, Are mingling with the world ; thou in thy cell But, father, to see you no more, and see Forgot, Teresa ! Yet among them all

Your love, O father ! go ere I am gone !" None were so formed to love and to be loved, Gently he moved her off, and drew her back, None to delight, adorn ; and on thee now Bending his lofty head far over hers; A curtain, blacker than the night, is dropped And the dark depths of nature heaved and burst. Forever ! In thy gentle bosom sleep

He turned away,

not far, but silent still. Feelings, affections, destined now to die ; She now first shuddered ; for in him, so nigh,


So long a silence seemed the approach of death, QUEEN. What have I done, that thou dar'st
And like it. Once again she raised her voice : wag thy tongue
“O father! if the ships are now detained, In noise so rude against me ?
And all your vows move not the gods above, НАМ.

Such an act,
When the knife strikes me there will be one prayer That blurs the grace and blush of modesty ;
The less to them ; and purer can there be Calls virtue, hypocrite ; takes off the rose
Any, or more fervent, than the daughter's prayer From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
For her dear father's safety and success ?” And sets a blister there ; makes marriage vows
A groan that shook him shook not his resolve. As false as dicers' oaths : 0, such a deed
An aged man now entered, and without As from the body of contraction plucks
One word stepped slowly on, and took the wrist | The very soul; and sweet religion makes
Of the pale maiden. She looked up, and saw A rhapsody of words : Heaven's face doth glow;
The fillet of the priest and calm, cold eyes. Yea, this solidity and compound mass,
Then turned she where her parentstood, and cried: With tristful visage, as against the doom,
“O father ! grieve no more ; the ships can sail." Is thought-sick at the act.


Ah me, what act, That roars so loud, and thunders in the index! Ham. Look here, upon this picture, and on


The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
I CHARM thy life,

See, what a grace was seated on this brow;
From the weapons of strife,

Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
From stone and from wood,

An eye like Mars, to threaten and command ;
From fire and from flood,

A station like the herald Mercury
From the serpent's tooth,

New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ;
And the beast of blood.

A combination, and a form, indeed,
From sickness I charm thee,

Where every god did seem to set his seal,
And time shall not harm thee; To give the world assurance of a man :
But earth, which is mine,

This was your husband. Look you now, what
Its fruits shall deny thee;

follows: And water shall hear me,

Here is your husband ; like a mildewed ear, And know thee and flee thee : Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes ? And the winds shall not touch thee

Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, When they pass by thee,

And batten on this moor? Ha ! have you eyes ? And the dews shall not wet thee

You cannot call it love ; for, at your age,
When they fall nigh thee.

The hey-day in the blood is tame, it 's humble,
And thou shalt seek death,

And waits upon thejudgment: and what judgment To release thee, in vain ;

Would step from this to this ? Sense, sure, you Thou shalt live in thy pain,

While Kehama shall reign,

Else, could you not have motion : but, sure, that
With a fire in thy heart,
And a fire in thy brain.

Is apoplexed : for madness would not err;
And sleep shall obey me,

Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thralled
And visit thee never,

But it reserved some quantity of choice,
And the curse shall be on thee To serve in such a difference. What devil was 't
Forever and ever.

That thus hath cozened you at hoodman-blind ?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,

Or but a sickly part of one true sense

O shame! where is thy blush ? Rebellious hell, HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK."

If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, HAMLET. Leave wringing of your hands : To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, peace ! sit you down,

And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame And let me wring your heart: for so I shall, When the compulsive ardor gives the charge, If it be made of penetrable stuff ;

Since frost itself as actively doth burn,
If damned custom have not brazed it so, And reason panders will.
That it is proof and bulwark against sense. QUEEN.

O Hamlet, speak no more :




I This bodiless creation ecstasy


Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ; QUEEN. This is the very coinage of your brain :
And there I see such black and grainéd spots,
As will not leave their tinct.

Is very cunning in.
0, speak to me no more ; Ham. Ecstasy!
These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears ; My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
No more, sweet Hamlet!

And makes as healthful music : it is not madness HAM.

A murderer, and a villain ; That I have uttered : bring me to the test A slave, that is not twentieth part the tithe And I the matter will re-word; which madness Of your precedent lord ; a Vice of kings; Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,

Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, That not your trespass, but my madness, speaks : And put it in his pocket !

It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, QUEEN.

No more.

Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, HAM. A king of shreds and patches,

Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven ;

Repent what's past; avoid what is to come; Enter Ghost.

And do not spread the compost on the weeds, Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; You heavenly guards ! - What would your gra- For in the fatness of these pursy times, cious figure ?

Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, QUEEN. Alas, he's mad !

Yea, curb and woe, for leave to do him good. HAM. Do you not come your tardy son tochide, QUEEN. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by

in twain ! The important acting of your dread command ? HAM. O, throw away the worser part of it, O, say!

And live the purer with the other half. Ghost. Do not forget : this visitation Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed; Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. Assume a virtue, if you have it not. But look, amazement on thy mother sits : Once more, good night : 0, step between her and her fighting soul, And when you are desirous to be blessed, Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works, I'll blessing beg of you. Speak to her, Hamlet.

I must be cruel, only to be kind : НАМ.

How is it with you, lady? Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
QUEEN. Alas, how is 't with you,
That you do bend your eye on vacancy,
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse ?

Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, It was a dreary day in Padua.
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, The Countess Laura, for a single year
Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, Fernando's wife, upon her bridal bed,
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Like an uprooted lily on the snow,
Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look ? | The withered outcast of a festival,
HAM. On him! on him! Look you, how pale Lay dead. She died of some uncertain ill,
he glares !

That struck her almost on her wedding day,
His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones, And clung to her, and dragged her slowly down,
Would make them capable. Do not look upon Thinning her cheeks and pinching her full lips,

Till, in her chance, it seemed that with a year Lest with this piteous action you convert Full half a century was overpast. My stern effects : then, what I have to do In vain had Paracelsus taxed his art, Will want true color ; tears, perchance, for blood. And feigned a knowledge of her malady ; QUEEN. To whom do you speak this ?

In vain had all the doctors, far and near, HAM.

Do you see nothing there? Gathered around the mystery of her bed, QUEEN. Nothing at all; yet all, that is, I see. | Draining her veins, her husband's treasury, Ham. Nor did you nothing hear ?

And physic's jargon, in a fruitless quest QUEEN.

No, nothing, but ourselves. For causes equal to the dread result. HAM. Why, look you there ! look, how it steals The Countess only smiled when they were gone,

Hugged her fair body with her little hands, My father, in his habit as he lived !

And turned upon her pillows wearily, Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal ! As though she fain would sleep no common sleep,

[Exit Ghost. I But the long, breathless slumber of the grave.



away !

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