Closed is the brunt of the glorious fight; And the day, like a conqueror, bursts on the night. The triumph already sweeps marching in song There's another, in which we shall meet you once more! 24. THE GLOVE.-Schiller. Born, 1759; died, 1805. BEFORE his lion-garden gate, The wild-beast combat to await, King Francis sate: Around him were his nobles placed, By ladies of the court, in gorgeous state: And with stately step and mien A lion to enter was seen. With fearful look His mane he shook, And yawning wide, Stared around him on every side; And stretched his giant limbs of strength, And laid himself down at his fearful length And the king a second signal made, And instant was opened wide A second gate, on the other side, A tiger sprung. And, bristling at the look, With his tail his sides he strook, And rolled his rabid tongue. And, with glittering eye, Crept round the lion slow and shy Then, horribly howling, Down by his side himself he laid. And the king another signal made: The opened grating vomited then Two leopards forth from their dreadful den, They rush on the tiger, with signs of rage, Who, fierce, with paws uplifted stood, And the lion sprang up with an awful roar, And the monsters on the ground Now, from the balcony above, The winsome lady's glove! And the Lady Kunigund, in bantering mood, Go pick up my glove, Sir Knight." From the beasts between Took up the glove, with fearless hand; 25. THE FATE OF VIRGINIA.* "WHY is the Forum crowded? What means this stir in Rome?" "Claimed as a slave, a free-born maid is dragged here from her home On fair Virginia, Claudius has cast his eye of blight; The tyrant's creature, Marcus, asserts an owner's right. O, shame on Roman manhood! Was ever plot more clear? But, look! the maiden's father comes! Behold Virginius here!" Straightway Virginius led the maid a little space aside, To where the reeking shambles stood, piled up with horn and hide. * In order to render the commencement less abrupt, six lines of introduction have been added to this extract from the fine ballad by Macaulay. And then his eyes grew very dim, and his throat began to swell, - The house that was the happiest within the Roman walls, - The time is come. The tyrant points his eager hand this way! He little deems, that, in this hand, I clutch what still can save know. Then clasp me round the neck once more, and give me one more kiss; Then, for a little moment, all people held their breath; A cry as if the Volscians were coming o'er the wall; He looked upon his lietors, but they trembled and stood still. And as Virginius through the press his way in silence cleft, Ever the mighty multitude fell back to right and left. And he hath passed in safety unto his woful home, And there ta'en horse to tell the camp what deeds are done in Rome. 26. HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE. - Adapted from Macaulay. THE Consul's brow was sad, and the Consul's speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, and darkly at the foe. "Their van will be upon us before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, what hope to save the town?" Then out spoke brave Horatius, the Captain of the gate: To every man upon this earth death cometh, soon or late. Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed ye may; I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path a thousand may well be stopped by three. Now who will stand on either hand, and keep the bridge with me?" Then out spake Spurius Lartius, -a Ramnian proud was he, 66 Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, and keep the bridge with thee." And out spake strong Herminius, - of Titian blood was he, "I will abide on thy left side, and keep the bridge with thee." "Horatius," quoth the Consul," as thou sayest, so let it be.” And straight against that great array, forth went the dauntless Three. Soon all Etruria's noblest felt their hearts sink to see On the earth the bloody corpses, in the path the dauntless Three. But meanwhile axe and lever have manfully been plied, 66 Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back; And, as they passed, beneath their feet they felt the timbers crack. >But when they turned their faces, and on the further shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, they would have crossed once more. But, with a crash like thunder, fell every loosened beam, And, like a horse unbroken when first he feels the rein, The furious river struggled hard, and tossed his tawny mane, And battlement, and plank, and pier, whirled headlong to the sea." Alone stood brave Horatius, but constant still in mind; "Down with him!" cried false Sextus, with a smile on his pale face. "Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsěna, now yield thee to our grace. Round turned he, as not deigning those craven ranks to see; And he spake to the noble river that rolls by the towers of Rome. O, Tiber! father Tiber! to whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, take thou in charge this day!" No sound of joy or sorrow was heard from either bank ; But friends and foes, in dumb surprise, stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges they saw his crest appear, Rome shouted, and e'en Tuscany could scarce forbear to cheer. But fiercely ran the current, swollen high by months of rain: Never, I ween, did swimmer, in such an evil case, Struggle through such a raging flood safe to the landing-place: "Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus; "will not the villain drown? For such a gallant feat of arms was never seen before." And now he feels the bottom; now on dry earth he stands; 27. THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE, 1645.- -Aytoun. There is no ingredient of fiction in the historical incidents recorded in the following ballad. The perfect serenity of Montrose, the "Great Marquis," as he was called, in the hour of trial and death, the courage and magnanimity which he displayed to the last, have been dwelt upon, with admiration, by writers of every class. The following has been slightly abridged from the original. COME hither, Evan Cameron; come, stand beside my knee, I hear the river roaring down towards the wintry sea. There's shouting on the mountain-side, there's war within the blast: I hear the pibroch wailing amidst the din of fight, 'Twas I that led the Highland host through wild Lochaber's snows, |