I know the base world will seek to deceive thee,
With fa.sehood like that which thy mother beguiled;
Yet, lost and degraded—to whom can I leave thee?
O God of the fatherless! pity my child!

EXERCISE CXLVII.

THE BRAHMIN AND THE ROGUES.

MACAULAY.

1. A pious Brahmin, it is written, made a vow that, on a certain day, he would sacrifice a sheep, and, on the appointed morning, he went forth to buy one. There lived in his neighborhood three rogues, who knew of his vow, and laid a scheme for profiting by it. The first met him and said: "Oh, Brahmin, wilt thou buy a sheep? I have one fit for sacrifice." "It is for that very purpose," said the holy man, "that I came forth this day."

2. Then the impostor opened a bag, and brought out of it an unclean beast, an ugly dog, lame and blind. Thereon the Brahmin cried out: "Wretch, who touchest things impure, and utterest things untrue: callest thou that cur a sheep?” "Truly," answered the other, "it is a sheep of the finest fleece, and of the sweetest flesh. Oh, Brahmin, it will be an offering most acceptable to the gods." "Friend," said the Brahmin, "either thou or I must he blind."

"Praised

3. Just then one of the accomplices came up. be the gods," said this second rogue," that I have been saved the trouble of going to the market for a sheep! This is such a sheep as I wanted. For how much wilt thou sell it?" When the Brahmin heard this, his mind waved to and fro like one swinging in the air at a holy festival. "Sir," said he to the new comer, 66 take heed what thou dost; this is no sheep, but an unclean cur." "Oh, Brahmin," said the new "thon art drunk or mad!"

comer,

แ

66

4. At this time the third confederate drew near. "Let us ask this man," said the Brahmin, "what the creature is, and I will stand by what he shall say." To this the others agreed; and the Brahmin called out: Oh, stranger, what dost thou call this beast ?" "Surely, Oh, Brahmin," said the knave, “it is a fine sheep." Then said the Brahmin: "Surely the gods have taken away my senses,”—and he asked pardon of him who carried the dog, and bought it for a measure of rice and a pot of ghee, and offered it up to the gods, who, being wroth at this unclean sacrifice, smote him with a sore disease in all his joints.

5. Thus, or nearly thus, if we remember rightly, runs the story of the Sanscrit Æsop. The moral, like the moral of every fable that is worth the telling, lies on the surface. The writer evidently means to caution us against the practices of puffers,—a class of people who have more than once talked the public into the most absurd errors.

EXERCISE CXLVIII.

NOTE.-Desdemona, the daughter of Brabantio, a Venetian senator, having become enamored of Othello, a noble Moor, in the service of the States of Venice, leaves her father's house, and is secretly married to him.

OTHELLO'S DEFENSE.

SCENE-A Council Chamber.

SHAKSPEARE.

The DUKE of Venice and SENATORS sitting at a table: OFFICERS in attendance. Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, (his Ancient,*) and OFFICERS.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you

Against the general enemy Ottoman.

I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior,

[TO BRABANTIO. We lacked your counsel and your help to-night. yours. Good your grace, pardon me; * Ensign, or bearer of a flag.

Bra. So did I

Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business,

Hath raised me from my bed; nor doth the general care
Take hold on me; for my particular grief

Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature,
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows,
And it is still itself.

Duke,

Why, what's the matter?

Bra. My daughter! O, my daughter!

Sen.

Bra.

Dead?

Aye, to me;

She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted

By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks:
For nature so preposterously to err,

Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,

Sans* witchcraft could not

Duke. Who'er he be, that, in this foul proceeding, Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself,

And you of her, the bloody book of law

You shall yourself read in the bitter letter,

After your own sense; yea, though our proper son
Stood in your action.

Bra.

Humbly I thank your grace. Here is the man, this Moor; whom now, it seems,

Your special mandate, for the State affairs,

Hath hither brought.

Duke & Sen.

We are very sorry for it.

Duke. What, on your own part, can you say to this?

Bra. Nothing, but this is so.

[TO OTHELLO

Oth, Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,†
My very noble and approved good masters,―
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her;
The very head and front of my offending

* Sans, without.

Signior (also written seignior), is a title of honor, and means lord. It is pronounced seen yur.

Hath this extent, no more.

Rude am I in my speech,

And little blessed with the set phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
Their dearest action in the tented field;

And little of this great world can I speak,

More than pertains to feats of broil and battle;
And, therefore, little shall I grace my cause

In speaking for myself: yet, by your gracious patience,

I will a round unvarnished tale deliver,

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic,

(For such proceeding I am charged withal,)
I won his daughter with.

Bra.
A maiden never bold;
Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blushed at herself: and she,-in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, every thing,―

To fall in love with what she feared to look on ?
It is a judgment maimed, and most imperfect,
That will confess, perfection so could err
Against all rules of nature.

I, therefore, vouch again,

That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,

Or with some dram conjured to this effect,

He wrought upon her.

Duke. To vouch this is no proof; Othello, speak ;--

Did you by indirect and forced courses

Subdue and poison this young maid's affections;

Or came it by request, and such fair question

As soul to soul affordeth?

Oth.

I do besecch you,

Send for the lady to the Sagittary,

And let her speak of me before her father:

If

you do find me foul in her report,

The trust, the office I do hold of you,

away,

Not only take
Even fall upon my life.

Duke.

but let your sentence

Fetch Desdemona hither.

Oth. Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. [Exeunt IAGO, and Attendants, And, till she come, as truly as to Heaven

I do confess the vices of my blood,

So justly to your grave ears I'll present
How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
And she in mine.

Duke. Say it, Othello.

Oth. Her father loved me; oft invited me;
Still questioned me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have passed.

I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents, by flood and field;

Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,

And soid to slavery; of my redemption thence,

And portance in my travel's history:

Wherein of antres* vast, and deserts wild,

Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven,

It was my hint to speak, such was the process;

And of the Cannibals that each other eat,

The Anthropophagi,† and men whose heads

Do

grow

beneath their shoulders. These to hear, Would Desdemona seriously incline;

But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,

She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse. Which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour; and found good means

* Antres (an'turs) caverns. + An-thro-pop'h-a-gi, men-eaters,