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. Rienzi. SECTION XVII. RIENZI―ANGELO.....Miss Mitford. FRIENDS, I come not here to talk. Ye know too well 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— Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope Of sweet and quiet joy-there was the look Was greater than a king! And once again— 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 ? Ang. For freedom. Surely, Ay, the voice I knew thee by the words. Rie. Big tear drops on thy cheeks, and thy young hand With the golden blaze of heaven, but past and gone, 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 At once on their proud foes. Join them. Rie. Already he hath quitted Rome. My father! My kinsmen ! Thou shalt see Rie. We are too strong for contest. Ang. Yet reason with them-warn them. Will be the gaol, the gibbet, or the axe. And their answer The keen retort of power. Why, I have reasoned; And, but that I am held, amongst your great ones, Had died upon the ear; and low and hoarse Ang. How shall I swear? Rie. (To the people.) I bring unhoped-for aid. I'll join ye; [Gives his hand to Rienzi. Friends, comrades, countrymen, The immediate heir of the Colonna, craves To join your band. Ang. Hear me swear By Rome-by freedom-by Rienzi! Comrades, Rie. No Those names have been so often steeped in blood, The sound seems ominous-I'll none of them. My honouring duty lies. Hark-the bell, the bell! And listening heaven, proclaims the glorious tale SECTION XVIII. SNUG-BOTTOM-FLUTE-QUINCE-STARVELING. Shakspeare. Quince. Is all your company here? Bottom. 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. Rienzi. SECTION XVII. RIENZI—ANGELO.....Miss Mitford. FRIENDS, I come not here to talk. Ye know too well conqueror leads But base, ignoble slaves-slaves to a horde |