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O la ! if there a’nt the dandy gentleman fell off the board, and stuck up to his knees in mud. O dear, 0 dear! here's a pretty pickle I'm in ; will not any kind hand help me out of this dread. ful delirium ? I cannot possibly survive it. llere, tip us your hand, man ; there you are, all safe and sound. Yes, here I may be all safe and sound, but where are both my pumps ? Never mind your pumps, all you've got to do is to pump on shore-Thus

With laughter and racket they all leave the packet,
To Paris, dear Paris, they scamper away.

ANTONY'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS, EXCITING THEM

TO REVENGE THE DEATH OF CÆSAR.

FRIENDS, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears ;
I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
The evil, that men do, lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones,
So let it be with Cæsar! The noble Brutus
Hath told you, Cæsar was ambitious.
If it were so, it was a grievous fault:
And grievously hath Cæsar answered it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest,
(For Brutus is an honourable man,
So are they all, all honourable men ;)
Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.

He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransom did the general coffers fill :
Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious ?
When that the poor hath cried, Cæsar hath wept :
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see, that, on the Lupercal,
I thrice presented him a kingly crown;
Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition !
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ;
And sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke ;
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause :
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ?
O judgment thou art fied to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason.-Bear with me:
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,

And I must pause till it come back to me.

But yesterday the word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the world : now lies he there,'
And none so poor to do him reverence.
O Masters ! if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men.
I will not do them wrong-I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
Than I will wrong such honourable men.
But here's a parchment with the seal of Cæsar;
I found it in his closet; 'tis his will.
Let but the commons hear this testament,
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,)
And they would go and kiss dead Cæsar's wounds
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood-
Yea, beg a hair off him for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,
Unto their issue.

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle : I remember
The first time ever Cæsar put it on:
'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent:
That day he overcame the Nervii :
Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through :-
See, what a rent the envious Casca made-
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabbed;
And as he plucked his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar followed it!
This was the most unkindest cut of all !
For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
Quite vanquished him! Then burst his mighty heart:
And in his mantle muffling his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.
O what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I, and you, and all of us, fell down;
Whilst bloody treason flourished over us.
0, now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity :—these are gracious drops.
Kind souls! What, weep you when you but behold
Our Cæsar's vesture wounded ? Look

ye

here! Here is himself-marred, as you see, by traitors.

Good friends ! sweet friends! Let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny! They that have done this deed are honourable,

What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it! They are wise and honourable,
And will, no doubt, with reason answer you.
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts !
I am no orator, as Brutus is ;
But, as you know me all, a plain, blunt man,
That loves my friend--and that they know full well,
That gave me public leave to speak of him !
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood :-I only speak right on:
I tell you that which you yourselves do know-
Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor, dumb mouths,
And bid them speak for me. But, were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Cæsar, that should more
The stones of Rome to rise in mutiny.

WEDLOCK IS A TICKLISH THING.

WEDLOCK is a ticklish thing,

Hey merrily ho, and ho merrily hey;
And will joy or sorrow bring,

Hey merrily ho, hey ho!
Oh, how delightful pass their days away,
Who, never spiteful, only toy and play.

Spoken.]—Will you take a walk this morning, my love? Yes, my dear. Then you had better put on your clogs, my chicken, for fear of catching cold. And pray do you put on your great coat, lest you might increase your cough. Thank you my darling, for your care of me. When do you intend to instruct our new willa on Ampstead Eath. Vhy as soon as them 'ere artichecks sends in their dimensions, and so on. Don't forget to have towers and such like things, to make it look all the world as though it wur a little castle. I von't, I von't ; and I'll have a worander in front, that you may look at the folk go up and down on a Sunday arternoon. Can't we cover the front with shells to make it look like a, like a-I know, a emintage, you

Yes, my dear. So ve vill, my duck. Ob,

means.

Wedlock's joys are soft and sweet,

Hey merrily ho, and ho merrily hey!
When fond hearts in union meet,

Hey merrily ho, hey ho ?

Let us only change the scene,

Ho terrible hey, and hey terrible ho !
Take a peep behind the screen,

Ho terrible ho, hey ho!
What she proposes, be it good or bad,
He still opposes till he drives her mad.

Would you

Spoken.]-Do you dine at home to-day, sir? I can't tell, ma'am. What shall I provide ? What you like. like a roasted chicken? You know I don't like roasted chicken. Well, boiled then? Worse and worse. What will you have then ? Nothing. Very well, sir. Very well, ma'am. I say, Mr. Shrimp, vhen am I to have that 'ere new polese, vhich you promised me? Vhen you treats a gemman like a gemman, and conducts yourself like a lady. O, not till then. No. Wery vel, sir, then you will let me perish with cold. That I'm sure you von't, for you are alvays in ot vater. O, I vish you vereAt the devil ; I know you do, but I'll live a few years longer on purpose to plague you. Thus

Wedlock is a dreadful state,

Ho terrible hey, and hey terrible ho !
When cold hearts are joined by fate,

Ho terrible ho, hey ho!

NAPOLEON AT THE KREMLIN.

DEEPLY shadow'd by the night,

On the platform'd tower he stands;
And his lonely hour is bright

With the dream of conquer'd lands,

Where his chosen bands have striven;
Where his plumed host appears,
And its soaring eagle bears
Its boast of blood and tears

Unto heaven.

Hush'd in silent midnight sleep

The city lies below;
And the watch-call hoarse and deep,

As he paceth to and fro,

Steruly breaks its deep repose.
Lo ! kindling one by one,
A thousand lights are shown;
Each meteor-like and lone

Brightly glows !
M

“Say! hath the licensed hour

With years of danger bought, -Hath the wine-cup's wanton power

To my hardy veteran's taught

Deeds of riot-rapine-shame?
Have they bade yon flames arise
To tell the crimson skies
That the stain of outrage lies

On our name?

“Or doth my warriors' mirth

Yon fires in triumph raise, To scare the shuddering earth

With the terrors of their blaze?

Like a flag of war unfurl'd,
Doth yon flood of radiance flow
From our camp ?"-" Invader,-no!
'Tis a beacon-fire, whose glow

Cheers the world !"

“Lo! its fury rageth higher,

Column'd upward to the sky, Like that pyramid of fire

Gleaming of old, on high

To guide the people of the Lord.-Soldiers of Fame! come forth,Let the Empress of the North Note your valour's daring worth,

At my word.

“ Tear down each smoking wall

Of her city doom'd to death;
Ere her towers unaided fall,

Lie bravely earth beneath,
Where her bulwarks darkly nod!"

“ Invader! stay thy hand, Those mighty flames are fann'd By the patriots of the land,

And their God!

“The sulphureous smoke pour down

To mock the conqueror's flightFlames gather like a crown

Round the Kremlin's sacred height:

Invader! thou shalt find, That before the blazing war Of yon flames that shed afar Their glorious light-thy star

Hath declined !"

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