Assailed me. Then I had no hopes of life.
But suddenly a troop of Spaniards came

And charged my foes, who did not long sustain
The shock, but fled, and carried to their camp
That false report which thou, O king! hast heard.

King. Now by my sceptre and my sword I swear

Thou art a noble youth. An angel's voice

Could not command a more implicit faith

Than thou from me hast gained. What thinkest thou, Hamet,

The voice of truth and innocence is bold,

And never yet could guilt that tone assume.

I take my leave, impatient to return,

And satisfy my friends that this brave youth

Was not the aggressor.

King. I expect no less from generous Hamet. Exit HAMET - Tell me, wondrous youth!

For much I long to know, what is thy name?
Who are thy parents? Since the Moor prevailed,
The cottage and the cave have oft concealed
From hostile hate the noblest blood of Spain;
Thy spirit speaks for thee. Thou art a shoot
Of some illustrious stock, some noble house,
Whose fortunes with their falling country fell.

Youth. Alberto is my name. I draw my birth
From Catalonia; in the mountains there
My father dwells, and for his own domains
Pays tribute to the Moor. He was a soldier :
Oft I have heard him of your battles speak,
Of Cavadonga's and Olalle's field.
But ever since I can remember aught,
His chief employment and delight have been
To train me to the use and love of arms:
In martial exercise we past the day;
Morning and evening, still the theme was war.
He bred me to endure the summer's heat
And brave the winter's cold; to swim across
The headlong torrent when the shoals of ice
Drove down the stream; to rule the fiercest steeds
That on our mountains run. No savage beast
The forest yields that I have not encountered.
Meanwhile my bosom beat for nobler game ;
I longed in arms to meet the foes of Spain.
Oft I implored my father to permit me,

Before the truce was made, to join the host.
He said it must not be, I was too young
For the rude service of these trying times.
King. Thou art a prodigy, and fillest my mind
With thoughts profound and expectation high.
When in a nation, humbled by the will
Of Providence, beneath a haughty foe,
A person rises up, by nature reared,
Sublime, above the level of mankind;
Like that bright bow the hand of the Most High
Bends in the watery cloud: He is the sign
Of prosperous change and interposing Heaven.

HOME.

7.-ALFRED AND DEVON RETURNED SUCCESSFUL.

Alf. My friend returned !

O welcome, welcome! but what happy tidings
Smile in thy cheerful countenance?-

Dev. My liege,

Your troops have been successful. But to Heaven
Ascend the praise! For sure the event exceeds
The hand of man.

Alf. How was it, noble Devon?

Dev. You know my castle is not hence far distant. Thither I sped; and, in a Danish habit, The trenches passing, by a secret way Known to myself alone, emerged at once Amid my joyful soldiers. There I found A generous few, the veteran, hardy gleanings Of many a hapless fight. They with a fierce Heroic fire inspirited each other; Resolved on death, disdaining to survive Their dearest country." If we fall," I cried, "Let us not tamely fall like cowards! "No: let us live or let us die, like men! "Come on, my friends: to Alfred we will cut "Our glorious way; or, as we nobly perish, "Will offer to the genius of our country "Whole hecatombs of Danes." - As if one soul Had moved them all, around their heads they flashed Their flaming falchions-" Lead us to those Danes! "Our country!-vengeance!"- was the general cry. Straight on the careless drowsy camp we rushed, And rapid, as the flame devours the stubble,

Bore down the heartless Danes. With this success
Our enterprise increased. Not now contented
To hew a passage through the flying herd,

We, unremitting, urged a total rout.

The valiant Hubba bites the bloody field,

With twice six hundred Danes around him strewed.
Alf. My glorious friend! this action has restored

Our sinking country.-
But where, my noble cousin, are the rest
Of our brave troops?

Dev. On t'other side the stream,

That half encloses this retreat, I left them.
Roused from the fear, with which it was congealed
As in a frost, the country pours amain.
The spirit of our ancestors is up,

The spirit of the free! and with a voice

That breathes success, they all demand their king.

Alf. Quick let us join them, and improve their ardour.

We cannot be too hasty to secure

The glances of occasion.

THOMSON.

8.-THE QUARREL OF BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.
Cas. THAT you have wronged me, doth appear in this:
You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella,
For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letters, praying on his side,
Because I knew the man, were slighted of.

Bru. You wronged yourself, to write in such a case.
Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear its comment.
Bru. Yet let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm;
To sell and mart your offices for gold

To undeservers.

Cas. I an itching palm?

You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.

Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption,

And chastisement doth therefore hide its head.

Cas. Chastisement !

Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remember! Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man in all this world,

But for supporting robbers; shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ?
And sell the mighty space of our large honours,
For so much trash as may be grasped thus?-
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.

Cas. Brutus, bay not me,
I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

Bru. Go to; you're not, Cassius.
Cas. I am.

Bru. I say, you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no farther.

Bru. Away, slight man !

Cas, Is't possible ?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares ?

Cas. O ye gods! ye gods! must I endure all this?

Bru. All this? ay, more: Fret till your proud heart break;

Go, show your slaves how choleric you are,

And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?
Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humour? By the gods,
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Though it do split you; for, from this day forth,
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.

Cas. Is it come to this?

Bru. You say you are a better soldier :

Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,

And it shall please me well: For mine own part,

I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

Cas. You wrong me every way, you wrong me, Brutus;

I said, an elder soldier, not a better:

Did I say better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

Cas. When Cæsar lived, he durst not thus have moved me. Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him. Cas. I durst not !

Bru. No.

Cas. What? durst not tempt him ?

Bru. For your life you durst not.
Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love;

I may do that I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for.
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;

For I am armed so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not. I did send to you
For certain sums of gold, which you denied me ;-
For I can raise no money by vile means:
By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
By any indirection. I did send
To you for gold to pay my legions,
Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?
Should I have answered Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,
Dash him to pieces!

Cas. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Cas. I did not:-he was but a fool

That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart;

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,

But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.

Cas. You love me not.

Bru. I do not like your faults.

Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults.
Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear

As huge as high Olympus.

Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is aweary of the world :
Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
Checked like a bondman; all his faults observed,
Set in a note-book, learned and conned by rote,
To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep
My spirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast; within, a heart
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:
If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: