Doug. The heart of Douglas beats not with thy blood, But never will I trust in mercy more, In justice, truth or heaven, if it forsake thee. Per. Douglas, thy friendship is my choicest treasure ;— Has been a radiant star on my dark way; And never did I doubt thy zeal to serve me. Per. Let Heaven be witness there!— The thought of bringing down thy father's hairs Doug. Lo!--have I wondered o'er the hills for this? Thy golden fortunes Doug. Cursed be the blood within me, Plagues and the grave o'ertake me, if I leave thee; Per. For thy father's sake Doug. Peace! I'd not go if staying here would strew* His hoar hairs in the tomb-not stir, by heaven! Must I toss counters? sum the odds of life, When honor points the way?-When was the blood Per. Nay, hear me, hear me, Douglas Doug. Talk to me Of dangers? Death and shame! is not my race Doug. By heaven, it grieves me, Harry Percy, Now tell me how thou stand'st; thy cause how prospered. What has been done? What projects are afoot? Acquaint me quickly. Per. Gently; lest some busy ear Be near.us. Little have I yet to tell thee. *Pron. strow. Thinking my rival's coat would best conceal me, Doug. A keeper of his chase thy garb bespeaks. Per. Chief huntsman. Thus diguised, I day by day Traverse my native hills, viewing the strength And features of the land; its holds of safety; And searching patriot spirits out. For, still, Though kings and gaudy courts remember not, Still, in the cottage and the peasant's heart, The memory of my fathers lives. When there, The old, the good old day is cited, tears Roll down their reverend beards, and genuine love Το Doug. I long press the sons, and tell them what a lord Lives yet to rule them. Per. When first I mixed among them, oft I struck, Encouraged thus, I sought its latent seeds; Doug. That lulled them, as the north wind does the sea. The kindling impulse flew; till every hind, Scarce conscious why, handles his targe and bow; Doug. What lack we? Spread The warlike ensign. On the Border side, Two hundred veteran spears await your summons. Per. What say'st thou ? Doug. Sinews of the house; Ready to tread in every track of Douglas. By stealth I drew them in from distant points, And hid amidst a wood in Chevy-Chase. Per. O, Douglas! Douglas! even such a friend, Doug. Straight let us turn our trumpets to the hills; Aspiring Neville fatal is the day The Percy and the Douglas league in arms. Per. If he were all-Remember haughty Henry, The nephew of his wife, whose word could speed A veteran army to his kinsman's aid. Doug. Come one, come all; leave us to welcome them. [Exit Douglas. * * * * * Per. Too long, too long a huntsman, Arthur comes Brooding o'er wrongs that haunted me for vengeance. My birth-right, home. Halls founded by my sires LESSON CLXIV. The Prodigal Son. A CERTAIN man had two sons: and the younger of them said unto his father, "Father, give me the portion of goods * Pron. ne'vew. that falleth to me." And he divided unto them his living. And, not many days after, the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. And, when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled himself with the husks that the swine did eat; and no man gave unto him. And, when he came to himself, he said, "How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough, and to spare ;and I perish with hunger!—I will arise, and go to my father, and will say unto him-Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son-make me as one of thy hired servants." And he arose, and was coming to his father :-but, while he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said unto hiïn, “ Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son." But the father said to his servants, "Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet;-and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat and be merry-for this, my son, was dead, and is alive again;—he was lost, and is found." Now his elder son was in the field :-and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant. And he said unto him, "Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound." And he was angry;-and would not go in therefore came his father out and entreated him. And he, answering, said to his father, "Lo, these many years have I served thee, neither transgressed I, at any time, thy commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends::-But, as soon as this-thy son was come, who hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf." And the father said unto him-" Son, thou art ever with me; and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry and be glad for this-thy brother-was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found." LESSON CLXV. The Church-yard.—KARAMSIN. [From the Russian Anthology.] First Voice. How frightful the grave! how deserted and drear! Second Voice. How peaceful the grave! its quiet how deep: First Voice. There riots the blood-crested worm on the dead, Second Voice. How lovely, how sweet the repose of the tomb: First Voice. : The ravens of night flap their wings o'er the grave There the cony* at evening disports with his love, First Voice. There darkness and dampness with poisonous breath, Second Voice. O, soft are the breezes that play round the tomb, * Pron. kŭn'ny.¡ |