The Universal Reciter Part 11

_P. Hen._ Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.

_Fal._ Do, so, for it is worth the listening to. The nine in buckram that I told thee of,----

_P. Hen._ So, two more already.

_Fal._ Their points being broken,----

_Poins._ Down fell their hose.

_Fal._ Began to give me ground: But I followed me close, came in foot and hand: and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid.

_P. Hen._ O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

_Fal._ But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.

_P. Hen._ These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts; thou knotty-pated fool! thou wh.o.r.eson, obscene, greasy, tallow-keech,--

_Fal._ What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth?

_P. Hen._ Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? come, tell us thy reason; what sayest thou to this?

_Poins._ Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.

_Fal._ What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! if reasons were as plenty as blackberries I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

_P. Hen._ I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh;--

_Fal._ Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's-tongue, bull's-pizzle, you stock-fish,--O for breath to utter what is like thee!--you tailor's yard, you sheathe, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck;--

_P. Hen._ Well, breathe a while and then to it again; and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons hear me speak but this.

_Poins._ Mark, Jack.

_P. Hen._ We two saw you four set on four: you bound them, and were masters of their wealth.--Mark now how plain a tale shall put you down.--Then did we two set on you four: and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house:--and, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword, as thou hast done; and then say, it was a fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame?

_Poins._ Come, let's hear, Jack: What trick hast thou now?

_Fal._ By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant as Hercules; but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my life; I, for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money.--Hostess, clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray to-morrow.--Gallant, lads, boys, hearts of gold. All the t.i.tles of good fellows.h.i.+p come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore?

ON TO FREEDOM.

DUGANNE.

This poem should be delivered with bold energy, with flas.h.i.+ng eye, swelling breast, and free action--as though the speaker's heart was full of the n.o.bility of the theme:

"There has been the cry--'On to Richmond!' And still another cry--On to England!' Better than either is the cry--'On to Freedom!'"

CHARLES SUMNER.

On to Freedom! On to Freedom!

'Tis the everlasting cry Of the floods that strive with ocean-- Of the storms that smite the sky; Of the atoms in the whirlwind, Of the seed beneath the ground-- Of each living thing in Nature That is bound!

'Twas the cry that led from Egypt, Through the desert wilds of Edom: Out of darkness--out of bondage-- On to Freedom! On to Freedom!

O! thou stony-hearted Pharaoh!

Vainly warrest thou with G.o.d!

Moveless, at thy palace portals, Moses waits, with lifted rod!

O! thou poor barbarian, Xerxes!

Vainly o'er the Pontic main Flingest thou, to curb its utterance, Scourge or chain!

For, the cry that led from Egypt, Over desert wilds of Edom, Speaks alike through Greek and Hebrew; On to Freedom! On to Freedom!

In the Roman streets, with Gracchus, Hark! I hear that cry outswell; In the German woods with Hermann, And on Switzer hills, with Tell; Up from Spartacus, the Bondman, When his tyrants yoke he clave, And from Stalwart Wat the Tyler-- Saxon slave!

Still the old, old cry of Egypt, Struggling up from wilds of Edom-- Sounding still through all the ages: On to Freedom! On to Freedom!

On to Freedom! On to Freedom!

Gospel cry of laboring Time: Uttering still, through seers and sages, Words of hope and faith sublime!

From our Sidneys, and our Hampdens, And our Was.h.i.+ngtons they come: And we cannot, and we dare not Make them dumb!

Out of all the shames of Egypt-- Out of all the snares of Edom; Out of darkness--out of bondage-- On to Freedom! On to Freedom!

THE MURDERED TRAVELLER.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

When spring, to woods and wastes around, Brought bloom and joy again, The murdered traveller's bones were found, Far down a narrow glen.

The fragrant birch, above him, hung Her ta.s.sels in the sky; And many a vernal blossom sprung, And nodded, careless, by.

The red-bird warbled, as he wrought His hanging nest o'erhead; And, fearless, near the fatal spot, Her young the partridge led.

But there was weeping far away, And gentle eyes, for him, With watching many an anxious day, Grew sorrowful and dim.

They little knew, who loved him so, The fearful death he met, When shouting o'er the desert snow, Unarmed, and hard beset.

Nor how, when round the frosty pole, The northern dawn was red, The mountain-wolf and wild-cat stole, To banquet on the dead;

Nor how, when strangers found his bones, They dressed the hasty bier, And marked his grave with nameless stones, Unmoistened by a tear.

But long they looked, and feared and wept, Within his distant home; And dreamt and started as they slept, For joy that he was come.