288 THE CHOLERIC FATHER. Sir A. I am sure, sir, 't is more unreasonable in you to object to a lady you know nothing of. Capt. A. You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all, that on this point I can not obey you. Sir A. Hark you, Jack! I have heard you for some time with patience; I have been cool,- quite cool; but take care; you know I am compliance itself, when I am not thwarted; no one more easily led — when I have my own way; but don't put me in a frenzy. Capt. A. Sir, I must repeat it; in this I can not obey you. Sir A. Now, shoot me, if ever I call you while I live! Capt. A. Nay, sir, but hear me. Jack again Sir A. Sir, I won't hear a word- not a word! - not one word! So, give me your promise by a nod; and I'll tell you what, Jack, I mean, you dog, -if you don't Capt. A. What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of ugliness; to Sir A. Sir, the lady shall be as ugly as I choose; she shall have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's mu-se'um; she shall have a skin like a mummy, and the beard of a Jew; - she shall be all this, sir! yet I'll make you ōgle her all day, and sit up all night to write sonnets on her beauty! Capt. A. This is reason and moderation, indeed! Sir A. None of your sneering, puppy!-no grinning, jackanapes ! Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humor for mirth in my life. Sir A. 'Tis false, sir! I know you are laughing in your sleeve: I know you'll grin when I am gone, sir! Capt. A. Sir, I hope I know my duty better. THE CHOLERIC FATHER. 289 Sir A. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please! It won't do with me, I promise you. Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life. Sir A. I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know you are, you hypocritical young dog! But it won't do! Capt. A. Nay, sir, upon my word Sir A. So, you will fly out! Can't you be cool, like me? What good can passion do? Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent, overbearing reprobate! There, you sneer again! Don't provoke me! But you rely upon the mildness of my temper, you do, you dog! You play upon the meekness of my disposition! Yet, take care; the patience of a saint may be overcome at last! But, mark! I give you six hours and a half to consider of this: if you then agree, without any condition, to do every thing on earth that I choose, why, I may, in time, forgive you. If not, don't enter the same hemisphere with me; don't dare to breath the same air, or use the same light, with me; but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you of your commission; I'll lodge a fiye-andthree-pence in the hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest! I'll disown you, I'll disinherit you! I'll never call you Jack again! (Exit.) Capt. A. Mild, gentle, considerate father! I kiss your hand. R. B. SHERIDAN. (1751-1816,) O! MY young friend, be obstinately just; family or church. PEN'U-RY, n., poverty. SEN'TI-NEL, n., a soldier on guard. PA'TRI-ARCH (-ark), n., the head of a FAN-TASTIC, a., fanciful. HOOD'WINKED, a., blinded. In "Go to," to is pronounced too. Do not say morrer for mor'row. Justice is spoken of as "hoodwinked," because the ancient painters personified her with a bandage over her eyes as emblematical of her impartiality. The following admirable exercise should be carefully conned and practiced. TO-MORROW, didst thou say? Methought I heard Horatio say, To-morrow! To-morrow? It is a sharper, — who stakes penury Against thy plenty; - takes thy ready cash, And pays thee naught but wishes, hopes, and promises, The currency of idiots;-injurious bankrupt, That gulls the easy creditor! To-morrow? It is a period no where to be found In all the hoary registers of Time,- Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society Wrought of such stuff as dreams are; and as baseless But soft, my friend, arrest the present moments,- And know, for that thou slumberedst on thy guard, SPECIAL EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION. For every fugitive; and when thou thus Of hoodwinked Justice, who shall tell thy audit? 291 Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio; But, like the good old patriarch* upon record, NATHANIEL COTTON. (1707-1788.) CXXIV SPECIAL EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION. PART III.t FIBER OF FIBRE, n., a slender thread. | OM'I-NOUS, a., foreboding ill. borne by kings. SHAM'BLES, n. pl., a flesh-market. RAPINE n., act of plunder. PAL'PA-BLE, a., that may be felt, gross; evident. EP'I-TAPH (ep'e-taf), n., an inscription on a tomb. EP'I-THET, n., an adjective denoting a COL-LO'QUI-AL, a., pertaining to or quality. EX-CHEQUER (eks-chěk'er), n., an used in conversation. AU-RO'RA, n., the dawning light; the morning. UN-IM-PEACHED', a., not accused. Pronounce Schiller, Shil'ler; Wallenstein, Val'len-stine (a as in far.) Professor. In our last conversation, we considered the obvious fact that the voice may be exercised in three ranges, or pitches, namely, the high, the middle, and the low. It is in the middle range that it has the greatest variety; and this range includes the tones. which we habitually make use of when we speak to a person at a moderate distance from us. * An allusion to Jacob's wrestling with the angel (Genesis, chap. 32, verses 24, 26.) Jacob says: "I will not let thee go until thou bless me." See the beautiful lines, page 189. + For Part I., see page 91; Part II., page 195. 292 SPECIAL EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION. Student. Our present tones, as I understand it, are in this middle pitch. Walker tells us that the voice naturally slides into a higher key when we want to speak louder, but not so easily into a lower key when we would speak more softly. Pro. Yes; experience shows us that we can raise our voice to any pitch it is capable of; but the same experience tells us that it requires much art and practice to bring the voice to a lower key when it is once raised too high. Stu. What am I to understand by the o'ro-tund quality of voice? Pro. The word is made up of two Latin words, oʻre and ro-tun'do, and literally means with a round mouth. It was first introduced, I believe, by Dr. James Rush, in his work on the Voice; and he simply meant by it that ampler middle tone which one might employ be fore a large public audience, as distinguished from the more colloquial pitch which we might use in addressing a friend at the breakfast table. The following passage, from Lord Chatham's speech, of November 18, 1777, on the American war, ought to be delivered with the orotund body and fullness, although, with the exception of the last impassioned sentence, it should be given in the middle pitch. Try it. Stu. The difficulty will be, I think, to preserve that middle quality of voice. I fear that, in aiming at the orotund, I shall reach the high; but I will do my best: "You can not, I venture to say it, you CAN NOT conquer. America. What is your present situation there? We do not know the worst; but we know that in three campaigns we have done nothing, and suffered much. You may swell every expense, and strain every effort, still more extravagantly; accumulate every assistance you can beg or borrow; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German prince, that sells and sends his subjects to the shambles of a foreign country; your efforts are forever vain and im'potent, doubly so from this mercenary aid on which you rely; for it irri |