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Nay," said Richard, "I never bade a man do that which I would not do myself."

And without further ceremony, and in spite of the general expostulations of those around, and the respectful opposition of the Nubian himself, the king of England applied his lips to the wound of the black slave, treating with ridicule all remonstrances, and overpowering all resistance. He had no sooner intermitted his singular occupation, than the Nubian started from him, and, casting a scarf over his arm, intimated by gestures, as firm in purpose as they were respectful in manner, his determination not to permit the monarch to renew so degrading an employment. Long Allan also interposed, saying that if it were necessary to prevent the king engaging again in a treatment of this kind, his own lips, tongue, and teeth were at the service of the negro (as he called the Ethiopian,) and that he would eat him up bodily, rather than King Richard's mouth should again approach him.

Neville, who entered with other officers, added his remonstrances.

"Nay, nay, make not a needless halloo about a hart that the hounds have lost, or a danger when it is over," said the king. "The wound will be a trifle, for the blood is scarce drawn, an angry cat had dealt a deeper scratch, -and, for me, I have but to take a dram of orvietan by way of precaution, though it is needless."

Thus spoke Richard, a little ashamed, perhaps, of his own condescension, though sanctioned both by humanity and gratitude. But when Neville continued to make remonstrances on the peril to his royal person, the king imposed silence on him.

"Peace, I prithee; make no more of it. I did it but to show these ignorant prejudiced knaves how they might help each other when these cowardly caitiffs come against us with sarbacanes and poisoned shafts."

THE QUALITY OF MERCY

From "The Merchant of Venice"

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

THE quality of mercy is not strained,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,

It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

NOT

OT far advanced was morning day, When Marmion did his troops array, To Surrey's camp to ride;

He had safe conduct for his band,

Beneath the royal seal and hand,
And Douglas gave a guide.

The ancient earl, with stately grace,
Would Clara on her palfrey place,
And whispered in an undertone,
"Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown."
The train from out the castle drew,

But Marmion stopped to bid adieu;

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Though something I might plain,” he said, "Of cold respect to stranger guest, Sent hither by your king's behest, While in Tantallon's towers I stayed; Part we in friendship from your land, And, noble earl, receive my hand."

But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:

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My manors, halls, and bowers shall still
Be open at my sovereign's will,

To each one whom he lists, howe'er
Unmeet to be the owner's peer.
My castles are my king's alone,
From turret to foundation stone;

The hand of Douglas is his own,
And never shall, in friendly grasp,

The hand of such as Marmion clasp."

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frame for ire:

And "This to me!" he said;

"An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas' head.

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And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
He who does England's message here,
Although the meanest in her state,
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate;
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride-
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near
(Nay, never look upon your lord,
And lay your hand upon your sword,)
I tell thee thou'rt defied!

And if thou said'st I am not peer
To any Lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or highland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"

On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage

O'ercame the ashen hue of age;

Fierce he broke forth: "And dar'st thou then

To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?

And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go?

Lord Marmion turned - well was his need-
And dashed the rowels in his steed;
Like arrow through the archway sprung;
The ponderous grate behind him rung;
To pass there was such scanty room,
The bars, descending, grazed his plume.

The steed along the drawbridge flies,
Just as it trembles on the rise;
Nor lighter does the swallow skim
Along the smooth lake's level brim:

And when Lord Marmion reached his band,
He halts, and turns with clenched hand,

And shout of loud defiance pours,

And shook his gauntlet at the towers.

"Horse! Horse!" the Douglas cried, "and chase!"

But soon he reined his fury's pace.

"A royal messenger he came,

Though most unworthy of the name -
A letter forged! Saint Jude to speed!
Did ever knight so foul a deed?

At first, in heart, it liked me ill,

When the king praised his clerkly skill.
Thanks to Saint Bothan, son of mine,
Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line:
So swore I, and I swear it still,
Let my boy-bishop fret his fill.”