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believe his Elizabeth could have entertained, unless the violence of her disappointment carries a sad conviction to his bosom."

16. “What weakness, my lord?” said Elizabeth haughtily. “Would you, too, insinuate that the favor in which I held yonder proud traitor derived its source from aught—" But here she could no longer sustain the proud tone which she had assumed, and again softened as she said, “But why should I strive to deceive even thee, my good and wise servant?"

17. Burleigh stooped to kiss her hand with affection, and-rare in the annals of courts-a tear of true sympathy dropped from the eye of the minister on the hand of his sovereign.

18. It is probable that the consciousness of possessing this sympathy aided Elizabeth in supporting her mortification, and suppressing her extreme resentment; but she was still more moved by fear that her passion should betray to the public the affront and the disappointment which, alike as a woman and a queen, she was so anxious to conceal. She turned from Burleigh, and sternly paced the hall till her features had recovered their usual dignity, and her mien its wonted stateliness of regular motion.

19. She then approached Leicester, and said, with calmness, "My Lord of Leicester, rise and take up your sword. We will now hear the progress of this affair.” Then seating herself in her chair, she extorted, by successive questions, the whole history of his first acquaintance with Amy Robsart-their marriage--his jealousy-the causes which it was founded, and many particulars besides.

20. Leicester's confession, for such it might be called, was wrenched from him piece-meal, yet was upon the whole, accurate. At length, however, the haughty lord, like a deer that turns at bay, gave intimation that his patience was failing. Madam,” he said, taking care to be heard only by herself, “I have been much to blame-more than even your just resentment has expressed. Yet, madam,

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let me say, that my guilt, if it be unpardonable, was not unprovoked; and that if beauty and condescending dignity could seduce the frail heart of a human being, I might plead both as the causes of my concealing this secret from your majesty."

21. The queen fixed her eyes on him while she replied, Now, by heaven, my lord, thy effrontery passes the bounds of belief, as well as patience! But it shall avail thee nothing. What ho! my lords, come all and hear the news! My Lord of Leicester's stolen marriage has cost me a husband, and England a king. His lordship is patriarchal in his tastes-one wife at a time was insufficient, and he designed us the honor of his left hand. Now, is not this too insolent,—that I could not grace him with a few marks of court favor, but he must presume to think my hand and crown at his disposal ? You, however, think better of me; and I can pity this man, as I could a child, whose bubble of soap has burst between his hands. We go to the presence-chamber. My Lord of Leicester, we command your close attendance on us."

W. SCOTT.

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XCIII.—DIALOGUE BETWEEN HAMLET AND

HORATIO.

HOF

. well :

CORATIO. Hail to your lordship!

Hamlet. I am glad to see you Horatio,or I do forget myself.

Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

Ham. Sir, my good friend ; I'll change that name with you. And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio ?

Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.

Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so;
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself. I know you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore?
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

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Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.

Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio; the funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven,
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
My father,-methinks I see my father-

Hor. O, where, my lord ?
Ham.

In
my
mind's

eye,

Horatio. Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw! who?
Hor. My lord, the king, your father.
Ham. The king, my father!

Hor. Season your admiration for a while,
With an attent ear; till I may deliver
This marvel to you.

Ham. For heaven's love let me hear.

Hor. Two nights together had those gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waist and middle of the night,
Been thus encountered: a figure, like your father,
Armed at point exactly, cap-à-pié,
Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them : thrice he walked
By their oppressed and fear-surprised eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me,
In dreadful secrecy, impart they did;
And I with them, the third night, kept the watch:
Where, as they had delivered, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes. I knew your father;
These hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this?
Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we watched.

Ham. Did you not speak to it?
Hor.

My lord, I did;
But answer made it none. Yet once, methought
It lifted up its head, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak:
But, even then, the morning cock crew loud;
And, at the sound, it shrunk in haste away,
And vanished from our sight.
Ham.

'Tis very strange.
Hor. As I do live, my honored lord, 't is true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty
To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, sir, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to-night?
Hor.

We do, my lord.
Ham. Armed, say you ?
Hor. Armed, my lord.
Ham. From top to toe?
Hor.

My lord, from head to foot.
Ham. Then saw you not his face?
Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, looked he frowningly?

Hor. A countenance more
In sorrow than in anger.

Ham. Pale, or red ?
Hor. Nay, very pale.
Ham.

And fixed his eyes upon you?
Hor. Most constantly.
Ham.

I would I had been there!
Hor. It would have much amazed you.
Ham. Very like, very like. Staid it long ?
Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
Ham. His beard was grizzled ?-no?

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,
A sable silvered.
Ham.

I will watch to-night;
Perchance 't will walk again.
Hor.

I warrant 't will.
Ham. If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you, sir,

If you

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have hitherto concealed this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still ;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your love: so fare you well.
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

SHAKSPEARE.

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XCIV.—APPEAL FOR STARVING IRELAND.

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HERE lies upon the other side of the wide Atlantic a

beautiful island, famous in story and in song. Its area is not so great as that of the State of Louisiana, while its population is almost half that of the Union. It has given to the world more than its share of genius and of greatness. It has been prolific in statesmen, warriors, and poets. Its brave and generous sons have fought successfully all battles but their own. In wit and humor it has no equal; while its harp, like its history, moves to tears by its sweet but melancholy pathos.

2. Into this fair region God has seen fit to send the most terrible of all those fearful ministers that fulfil his inscrutable decrees. The earth has failed to give her increase. The common mother has forgotten her offspring, and she no longer affords them their accustomed nourishment. Famine, gaunt and ghastly Famine, has seized a naticn with its strangling grasp. Unhappy Ireland, in the sad woes of the present, forgets, for a moment, the gloomy history of the past.

3. Oh! it is terrible that, in this beautiful world, which the good God has given us, and in which there is plenty for all, men should die of starvation! When a man dies of disease, he, it is true, endures the pain. But around his pillow are gathered sympathizing friends, who, if they cannot keep back the deadly messenger, cover his face, and conceal the horrors of his visage, as he delivers his stern

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