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Do they know, that these dark forests, through which even the winds come not without dismal and terrifying sound, is the home of the savage, whose first prompting is to destroy, that he may rob? Do they know that disease must be the inmate of their dwellings in their untried exposure? If the savage, if disease, selects no victims, will famine stay its merciless hand? Do they know how slowly the forest yields to human industry? Do they realize how long, how lonesome, how perilous it will be, to their little group, before want can be supplied and security obtained ? Can they have come, voluntarily, to encounter all these unavoidable evils ? Have they given up their native land, their precious homes, their kind friends, their kindred, the comfort and the fellowship of civilized and polished life? Is this the evidence of affectionate solicitude of husbands, of anxious tenderness of parents, or the sad measure of distempered minds?

Wherefore are they come ? What did they suffer, what did they fear, what do they expect, or hope, that they have chosen exile HERE, and to become the watchful neighbour of the treacherous Indian !

They gather themselves together, and assume the posture of humble devotion. They pour forth the sentiments of praise, of hope, of unshaken confidence. They cast themselves, their wives, their children, into the arms of that beneficent Parent, who is present in the wilderness no less than the crowded city. It is to Him that they look for support, amidst the wants of nature, for shelter against the storm, for protection against the savage, for relief in disease.

SECTION XVII.

RIENZI-ANGELO....Miss Mitford.
Rienzi.

FRIENDS,
I come not here to talk. Ye know too well
The story of our thraldom. We are slaves !
The bright sun rises to his course, and lights
A race of slaves !

He sets, and his last beam
Falls on a slave: not such as, swept along
By the full tide of power, the conqueror leads
To crimson glory and undying fame;
But base, ignoble slaves-slaves to a horde
Of petty tyrants, feudal despots; lords;
Rich in some dozen paltry villages-

Be we men,

Strong in some hundred spearmen-only great
In that strange spell—a name. Each hour, dark fraud,
Or open rapine, or protected murder,
Cry out against them. But this very day,
An honest man, my neighbour—there he stands
Was struck-struck like a dog, by one who wore
The badge of Ursini; because, forsooth,
He tossed not high his ready cap in air,
Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts,
At sight of that great ruffian.
And suffer such dishonour? Men, and wash not
The stain away in blood ? Such shames are common.
I have known deeper wrongs. 1, that speak to ye,
I had a brother once, a gracious boy,
Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope
Of sweet and quiet joy—there was the look
Of heaven upon his face, which limners give
To the beloved disciple. How I loved
That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years,
Brother at once and son !

He left my side,
A summer bloom on his fair cheeks-a smile
Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour
The pretty harmless boy was slain! I saw
The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried
For vengeance !-Rouse, ye Romans !-Rouse, ye slaves !
Have ye brave sons ? Look in the next fierce brawl
To see them die. Have ye fair daughters? Look
To see them live, torn from your arms, distained,
Dishonoured ; and, if ye dare call for justice,
Be answered by the lash. Yet, this is Rome,
That sate on her seven hills, and from her throne
Of beauty ruled the world ! Yet, we are Romans.
Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman
Was greater than a king! And once again-
Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread
Of either Brutus ! once again, I swear,
The eternal city shall be free! her sons
Shall walk with princes.
Angelo. (entering.)

What be ye,
That thus in stern and watchful mystery
Cluster beneath the veil of night, and start
To hear a stranger's foot ?
Rie.

Romans.
Ang.

And wherefore Meet ye, my countrymen ?

Rie.

For freedom.
Ang

Surely,
Thou art Cola di Rienzi?
Rie.

Ay, the voice
The traitor voice.
Ang.

I knew thee by the words.
Who, save thyself, in this bad age, when man
Lies prostrate like yon temple, dared conjoin
The sounds of Rome and freedom?
Rie.

I shall teach
The world to blend those words, as in the days
Before the Cæsars. Thou shalt be the first
To hail the union. I have seen thee hang
On tales of the world's mistress, till thine eyes
Flooded with strong emotion, have let fall
Big tear drops on thy cheeks, and thy young hand,
Hath clenched thy maiden sword. Unsheath it now-
Now, at thy country's call ! hat, dost thou pause ?
Is the flame quenched ? Dost falter? Hence with thee,
Pass on ! pass whilst thou may !
Ang.

Hear me, Rienzi.
Even now my spirit leaps up at the thought
Of those brave storied days-a treasury
Of matchless visions, bright and glorified,
Paling the dim lights of this darkling world
With the golden blaze of heaven, but past and gone,
As clouds of yesterday, as last night's dream.

Rie. A dream! Dost see yon phalanx, still and stern ?
An hundred leaders, each with such a band,
So armed, so resolute, so fixed in will,
Wait with suppressed impatience till they hear
The great bell of the Capitol, to spring
At once on their proud foes. Join them.
Ang

My father!
Rie. Already he hath quitted Rome.
Ang.

My kinsmen!
Rie. We are too strong for contest. Thou shalt see
No other change within our peaceful streets
Tha that of slaves to freemen. Such a change
As is the silent step from night to day,
From darkness into light. We talk too long.

Ang. Yet reason with them-warn them.
Rie.

And their answer-
Will be the gaol, the gibbet, or the axe.
The keen retort of power. Why, I have reasoned;

And, but that I am held, amongst your great ones,
Half madman and half fool, these bones of mine
Had whitened on yon wall. Warn them! They met
At every step dark warnings. The pure air,
Where'er they passed, was heavy with the weight
Of sullen silence; friend met friend, nor smiled,
Till the last footfall of the tyrant's steed
Had died upon the ear; and low and hoarse
Hatred came murmuring like the deep voice
Of the wind before the tempest.
Ang.

I'll join ye;

[Gives his hand to Rienzi. How shall I swear ?

Rie. (To the people.) Friends, comrades, countrymen,
I bring unhoped-for aid. Young Angelo,
The immediate heir of the Colonna, craves
To join your band.
Ang.

Hear me swear
By Rome-by freedom-by Rienzi! Comrades,
How have ye titled your deliverer? consul-
Dictator, emperor ?
Rie.

No-
Those names have been so often steeped in blood,
So shamed by folly, so profaned by sin,
The sound seems ominous—l'll none of them.
Call me the tribune of the people; there
My honouring duty lies. Hark--the bell, the bell !
The knell of tyranny-the mighty voice,
That to the city and the plain—to earth,
And listening heaven, proclaims the glorious tale
Of Rome re-born, and freedom. See, the clouds
Are swept away, and the moon's boat of light
Sails in the clear blue sky, and million stars
Look out on us, and smile.

SECTION XVIII.

SNUG-BOTTOM-FLUTE-QUINCE-STARVELING.

Shakspeare.
Quince. Is all your company here ?

Botton. You were best to call them generally, man i man, according to the scrip.

Quin. Here is the scroll of every man's name, whic is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the duke and duchess, on his wedding day at night Do they know, that these dark forests, through which even the winds come not without dismal and terrifying sound, is the home of the savage, whose first prompting is to destroy, that he may rob? Do they know that disease must be the inmate of their dwellings in their untried exposure? If the savage, if disease, selects no victims, will famine stay its merciless hand? Do they know how slowly the forest yields to human industry? Do they realize how long, how lonesome, how perilous it will be, to their little group, before want can be supplied and security obtained? Can they have come, voluntarily, to encounter all these unavoidable evils? Have they given up their native land, their precious homes, their kind friends, their kindred, the comfort and the fellowship of civilized and polished life? Is this the evidence of affectionate solicitude of husbands, of anxious tenderness of parents, or the sad measure of distempered minds? Wherefore are they come? What did they suffer, what did they fear, what do they expect, or hope, that they have chosen exile here, and to become the watchful neighbour of the treacherous Indian!

They gather themselves together, and assume the posture of humble devotion. They pour forth the sentiments of praise, of hope, of unshaken confidence. They cast themselves, their wives, their children, into the arms of that beneficent Parent, who is present in the wilderness no less than the crowded city. It is to Him that they look for support, amidst the wants of nature, for shelter against the storm, for protection against the savage, for relief in disease.

SECTION XVII.

RIENZI—ANGELO.....Miss Mitford.
Rienzi.

Friends,
I come not here to talk. Ye know too well
The story of our thraldom. We are slaves !
The bright sun rises to his course, and lights
A race of slaves ! He sets, and his last beam
Falls on a slave: not such as, swept along
By the full tide of

power,

the
conqueror

leads
To crimson glory and undying fame;
But base, ignoble slaves-slaves to a horde
Of petty tyrants, feudal despots; lords;
Rich in some dozen paltry villages-

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