FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101  
102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   >>   >|  
-yet pause--thou must not yet go forth; Thy mind and body are alike unfit To trust each other, for some hours, at least; When thou art better, I will be thy guide-- But whither? _Man_. It imports not: I do know My route full well, and need no further guidance. _C. Hun_. Thy garb and gait bespeak thee of high lineage-- One of the many chiefs, whose castled crags Look o'er the lower valleys--which of these May call thee lord? I only know their portals; 10 My way of life leads me but rarely down To bask by the huge hearths of those old halls, Carousing with the vassals; but the paths, Which step from out our mountains to their doors, I know from childhood--which of these is thine? _Man_. No matter. _C. Hun_. Well, Sir, pardon me the question, And be of better cheer. Come, taste my wine; 'Tis of an ancient vintage; many a day 'T has thawed my veins among our glaciers, now Let it do thus for thine--Come, pledge me fairly! 20 _Man_. Away, away! there's blood upon the brim! Will it then never--never sink in the earth? _C. Hun_. What dost thou mean? thy senses wander from thee. _Man_. I say 'tis blood--my blood! the pure warm stream Which ran in the veins of my fathers, and in ours When we were in our youth, and had one heart, And loved each other as we should not love,[127] And this was shed: but still it rises up, Colouring the clouds, that shut me out from Heaven, Where thou art not--and I shall never be. 30 _C. Hun_. Man of strange words, and some half-maddening sin,[ax] Which makes thee people vacancy, whate'er Thy dread and sufferance be, there's comfort yet-- The aid of holy men, and heavenly patience---- _Man_. Patience--and patience! Hence--that word was made For brutes of burthen, not for birds of prey! Preach it to mortals of a dust like thine,-- I am not of thine order. _C. Hun_. Thanks to Heaven! I would not be of thine for the free fame Of William Tell; but whatsoe'er thine ill, 40 It must be borne, and these wild starts are useless. _Man_. Do I not bear it?--Look on me--I live. _C. Hun._ This is convulsion, and no healthful life. _Man_. I tell thee, man! I have lived many years,
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101  
102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

patience

 

Heaven

 

clouds

 
strange
 

Colouring

 

wander

 

fathers

 
stream
 

senses

 

maddening


whatsoe

 

William

 
Thanks
 

starts

 

useless

 
healthful
 

convulsion

 

comfort

 

sufferance

 

people


vacancy
 

heavenly

 
Patience
 

Preach

 

mortals

 

burthen

 

brutes

 

castled

 
chiefs
 

bespeak


lineage
 

valleys

 

rarely

 

portals

 
guidance
 

imports

 

glaciers

 

thawed

 
vintage
 

pledge


fairly

 

ancient

 

vassals

 

mountains

 
Carousing
 

hearths

 

childhood

 

question

 
pardon
 

matter