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11. Courage, Romans! The gods are for us! those gods whose temples and altars the impious Tarquin has profaned. By the blood of the wronged Lucretia, I swear, (hear me, ye Powers Supreme!) by this blood, which was once so pure, and which nothing but royal villainy could have polluted, I swear that I will pursue, to the death, these Tarquins, with fire and sword; nor will I ever suffer any one of that family, or of any other family whatsoever, to be king in Rome! On, to the Forum! Bear the body hence, high in the public view, through all the streets! On, Romans, on! The fool shall set you


12. I'll keep them all;

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He shall not have a Scot of them;

No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:
I'll keep them . . . by this hand!

1. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue! rescue!
The king enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring an opposite to every danger;

His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death;
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

§ 63. Exercises in Force. (See § 36.)

The following Exercises require the loudest vocal Force and highest Pitch.

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2. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,

(Will they not hear?) — What, ho! you men, you beasts,
(That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains, issuing from your veins,)
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.

3. Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help;
Rise and revenge her slaughtered citizens;
Rouse up, for Shame! our brothers of Pharsalia

Point at their wounds, and cry aloud, To battle!
Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow,
And Scipio's ghost walks unavenged amongst us.

The following speech of Virginius offers a beautiful instance of Transition from loud Force to gentle, and from high tones to the purest and most pathetic low tones. Virginius, it will be remembered, having slain his daughter to save her from the pollution of Appius Claudius, who has claimed her as a slave, is touched with insanity.


Virginius. Who says that?

He lies in the face of the gods. She is immutable,
Immaculate, and immortal! — and though all
The guilty globe should blaze, she would spring up
Through the fire, and soar above the crackling pile,
With not a downy feather ruffled by

Its fierceness.
But where 's Virginia?
Will she not come? I'll call her. She'll not dare —
Dare? Did I say dare? Poor child! O, when
Did my Virginia dare? (Calls.) Virginia!

Is it a voice, or nothing, answers me?

I hear a sound so fine. there's nothing lives
'Twixt it and silence: such a slender one

Justice will be defeated.


I've heard when I have talked with her in fancy!
A phantom sound!

The following passages require moderate Force, and at the Dash there should be a Transition from middle Pitch to low, with aspirated quality.

1. So stately her bearing, so proud her array,

The main she will traverse for ever and aye.
Many ports will exult at the gleam of her mast!

Hush! hush! thou vain dreamer! this hour is her last!

2. A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes locked love to eyes which spake again,

And all went merry as a marriage bell;

But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!

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3. Make fast the doors; heap wood upon the fire; Draw in your stools, and pass the goblet round,

But what is this?

And be the prattling voice of children heard.
Now let us make good cheer!
Do I not see, or do I dream I see
A form that midmost in the circle sits,
Half visible, his face deformed with scars,
And foul with... blood - O yes!- I know it there
Sits DANGER, with his feet upon the hearth!


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The following should be read with gentle Force and in the purest low




There's not a flower on all the hills: the frost is on the pane; I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again:

I wish the snow would melt, and the sun come out on high; I long to see a flower so, before the day I die.

One more unfortunate,
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,

Gone to her death!
Take her up tenderly,

Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young and so fair!


I have been wild and wayward, but you'll forgive me now; You'll kiss me, my own mother, upon my cheek and brow; Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild, You should not fret for me, mother, you have another child.

Look at her garments
Clinging like cerements;


If I can, I'll come again, mother, from out my resting-place ; Though you'll not see me, mother, I shall look upon your face, Though I cannot speak a word, I shall hearken what you say, And be often, often with you when think I'm far away.


While the wave constantly
Drips from her clothing;
Take her up instantly,
Loving, not loathing.

Touch her not scornfully;
Think of her mournfully,

Gently and humanly;
Not of the stains of her,
All that remains of her
Now is pure womanly.

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§64. Exercises in Quality of Voice. (See § 39.).

The Quality appropriate in the first five Exercises which follow is for the most part aspirate and guttural, with loud Force and middle Pitch; but the reader must not suppose that when a passage is characterized as adapted to any particular Quality, Pitch, or Force, the characterization applies to every word and syllable. Much must be left to individual taste and feeling. As in describing a complicate painting all that we can well do is to designate the predominant tint, so in these Exercises any attempt to do more than to note the prevailing tone would convey but a confused impression. The reader must learn first to understand and feel, and then nature will supply the right intonations.


Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward,
Thou little valiant, great in villainy!
Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!
Thou fortune's champion, that dost never fight
But when her humorous ladyship is by
To teach thee safety! thou art perjured, too,
And smooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool; to brag, and stamp, and swear
Upon my party! thou cold-blooded slave,
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side?
Been sworn my soldier? bidding me depend
Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength?
And dost thou now fall over to my foes?
Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.


2. SATAN'S Encounter with Death.

"Whence, and what art thou, execrable shape!
That darest, though grim and terrible, advance
Thy miscreated front athwart my way
To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass,
That be assured, without leave asked of thee:
Retire, or taste thy folly; and learn by proof,
Hellborn! not to contend with spirits of heaven!"
To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied: -

- Milton.

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