For, are not thy transgressions great and numberless?

Do they not cover thee, like rising floods?

And press then, like a weight of waters, down?

Does not the hand of righteousness afflict thee?

And who shall plead against it? who shall say To Pow'r Almighty, Thou hast done enough; Or bid his dreadful rod of vengeance it stay?-- Wait, then, with patience, till the circling hours Shall bring the time of thy appointed rest And lay thee down in death.

IMPATIENCE.

Oh! rid me of this torture, quickly there, My Madam, with the everlasting voice.

The bells, in time of pestilence, ne'er made Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion.

---------------------------------All my house, But now, steam'd like a bath, with her thick breath, A lawyer could not have been heard, nor scarce Another woman, such a hail of words She has let fall.

REMORSE AND DESPAIR.

Henceforth, let no man trust the first false step Of guilt. It hangs upon a precipice, Whose deep descent in last perdition ends.

How far am I plung'd down, beyond all thought Which I this evening fram'd-- Consummate horror! guilt beyond, a name!-- Dare not, my soul, repent. In thee, repentance Were second guilt; and 'twere blaspheming Heav'n To hope for mercy. My pain can only cease When G.o.ds want power to punish.--Ha!--the dawn-- Rise never more, O fun!--let night prevail: Eternal darkness close the world's wide scene-- And hide me from myself.

DISTRACTION.

Mercy!--I know it not--for I am miserable.

I'll give thee misery--for here she dwells, This is her house--where the sun never dawns: The bird of night sits screaming o'er the roof; Grim spectres sweep along the horrid gloom; And nought in heard, but wailings and lamenting.

Hark!--something cracks above;--it shakes--it totters!

And see--the nodding ruin falls to crush me!-- 'Tis fallen--'Tis here!--I feel it on my brain!

A waving flood of bluish fire swells o'er me!

And now 'tis out--and I am drown'd in blood.-- Ha! what art thou? thou horrid headless trunk!-- It is my Hastings--See, he wafts me on!

Away I go!--I fly!--I follow thee!

GRAt.i.tUDE.

My Father! Oh! let me unlade my breast; Pour out the fullness of my soul before you; Shew ev'ry tender, ev'ry grateful thought, This wond'rous goodness stirs. But 'tis impossible, And utt'rance all is vile; since I can only Swear you reign here, but never tell how much.

INTREATY.

Reward him for the n.o.ble deed, just Heavens!

For this one action, guard him, and distinguish him With signal mercies, and with great deliverance, Save him from wrong, adversity, and shame, Let never-fading honours flourish round him; And consecrate his name; ev'n to time's end.

Let him know nothing else, but good on earth And everlasting blessedness hereafter.

COMMANDING.

Silence, ye winds!

That make outrageous war upon the ocean: And then, old ocean? lull thy boist'rous waves.

Ye warring elements! be hush'd as death, While I impose my dread commands on h.e.l.l.

And thou, profoundest h.e.l.l! whose dreary sway, Is given to me by fate and demogorgon-- Hear, hear my powerful voice, through all thy regions And from thy gloomy caverns thunder the reply.

COURAGE.

A generous few, the vet'ran hardy gleanings Of many a hapless fight, with a, fierce Heroic fire, inspirited each other: Resolv'd on death, disdaining to survive Their dearest country. "If we fall," I cry'd, "Let us not tamely fall, like pa.s.sive cowards!

No--let us live, or let us die--like men!

Come on, my friends. To Alfred we will cut Our glorious way: or as we n.o.bly perish, Will offer to the genius of our country-- Whole hecatombs of Danes." As if one soul Have mov'd them all, around their heads they flash'd Their flaming falchions--"lead us to those Danes!

Our Country!--Vengeance!" was the general cry.

BOASTING.

I will tell you, Sir, by the way of private, and under seal. I am a gentleman; and live here, obscure, and to myself; but, were I known to his Majesty, and the Lords, observe me, I would undertake, upon this poor head and life, for the public benefit or the state, not only to spare the entire lives of his subjects in general, but to save the one half, nay three parts of his yearly charge, in holding war, and against what enemy soever. And how would I do it, think you? Why thus, Sir. I would select nineteen more to myself, throughout the land; gentlemen they should be; of good spirit, strong and able const.i.tution. I would chuse them by an instinct that I have. And I would teach these nineteen, the special rules; as your Punto, your Reverso, your Stoccaio, your Imbroccato, your Pa.s.sada, your Montonto; till they could all play very near, or altogether, as well as myself. This done, say the enemy were forty thousand strong.

We twenty, would come into the field the tenth of March or thereabouts; and we would challenge twenty of the enemy; they could not, in their honour refuse us: Well, we would kill them; challenge twenty more, kill them: twenty more, kill them: twenty more, kill them too. And thus, would we kill, every man, his twenty a day; that's twenty score; twenty score; that's two hundred; two hundred a day; five days, a thousand: forty thousand--forty times five--five times forty--two hundred days kill them all up by computation. And this I will venture my poor gentleman-like carcase to perform (provided there by no treason practised upon) by fair and discreet manhood; that is, civilly by the sword.

PERPLEXITY.

--Let me think-- What can this mean--Is it to me aversion?

Or is it, as I feared, she loves another?

Ha! yes--perhaps the king, the young count Tancred?

They were bred up together--surely that, That cannot be--Has he not given his hand, In the most solemn manner, to Constantia?

Does not his crown depend upon the deed?

No--if they lov'd, and this old statesman knew it, He could not to a king prefer a subject.

His virtues I esteem--nay more, I trust them-- So far as virtue goes--but could he place His daughter on the throne of Sicily-- O! 'tis a glorious bribe; too much for man!

What is it then!--I care not what it is.

SUSPICION.