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Death has not now
Proceed! I'm ready.
Sal. O, art thou ready to forgive, my brother?
Mal. Ad. O, stay thee, Saladin !
Sal. Thou shalt not. [Enter Attendant.]
Atten. My lord, the troops assembled by your order
Can e'er be found a hand to do the office.
Mal. Ad. O, faithful friends! [To Atten.] Thine shalt
The other first shall lop it from the body.
Sal. They teach the Emperor his duty well.
I haste to gladden many a gallant heart,
Sal. These men, the meanest in society,
I, who cannot, in all my memory,
Which thy resistless kindness hath not soothed,
That 't was to thee I owed the very breath
Mal. Ad. By these tears, I can!
O, brother! from this very hour, a new,
44. DAMON TO THE SYRACUSANS.-John Banim.
ARE all content?
A nation's rights betrayed, and all content?
To be a garrison for common cut-throats!
That have been grandsires; women with their children,
And those old men should lift their shivering voices
COMIC AND SATIRICAL.
1. SPEECH OF SERGEANT BUZFUZ IN THE CASE OF BARDELL AGAINST PICKWICK.-Charles Dickens.
You heard from my learned friend, Gentlemen of the Jury, that this is an action for a breach of promise of marriage, in which the damages are laid at fifteen hundred pounds. The plaintiff, Gentlemen, is a widow; yes, Gentlemen, a widow. The late Mr. Bardell, some time before his death, became the father, Gentlemen, of a little boy. With this little boy, the only pledge of her departed exciseman, Mrs. Bardell shrunk from the world, and courted the retirement and tranquillity of Goswell-street; and here she placed in her front parlor-window a written placard, bearing this inscription, "Apartments furnished for a single gentleman. Inquire within." Mrs. Bardell's opinions of the opposite sex, Gentlemen, were derived from a long contemplation of the inestimable qualities of her lost husband. She had no fear, she had no distrust, - all was confidence and reliance. "Mr. Bardell," said the widow, "was a man of honor, Mr. Bardell was a man of his word, - Mr. Bardell was no deceiver, Mr. Bardell was once a single gentleman himself; to single gentlemen I look for protection, for assistance, for comfort, and consolation; in single gentlemen I shall perpetually see something to remind me of what Mr. Bardell was, when he first won my young and untried affections; to a single gentleman, then, shall my lodgings be let." Actuated by this beautiful and touching impulse (among the best impulses of our imperfect nature, Gentlemen), the lonely and desolate widow dried her tears, furnished her first floor, caught her innocent boy to her maternal bosom, and put the bill up in her parlor-window. Did it remain there long? No. The serpent was on the watch, the train was laid, the mine was preparing, the sapper and miner was at work! Before the bill had been in the parlor-window three days, three days, Gentlemen, a being, erect upon two legs, and bearing all the outward semblance of a man, and not of a monster, knocked at the door of Mrs. Bardell's house! He inquired within; he took the lodgings; and on the very next day he entered into possession of them. man was Pickwick, Pickwick, the defendant!
Of this man I will say little. The subject presents but few attractions; and I, Gentlemen, am not the man, nor are you, Gentlemen,
the men, to delight in the contemplation of revolting heartlessness, and of systematic villany. I say systematic villany, Gentlemen; and when I say systematic villany, let me tell the defendant, Pickwick, if he be in Court, as I am informed he is, that it would have been more decent in him, more becoming, if he had stopped away. Let me tell him, further, that a counsel, in his discharge of his duty, is neither to be intimidated, nor bullied, nor put down; and that any attempt to do either the one or the other will recoil on the head of the attempter, be he plaintiff or be he defendant, be his name Pickwick, or Noakes, or Stoakes, or Stiles, or Brown, or Thompson.
I shall show you, Gentlemen, that for two years Pickwick continued to reside constantly, and without interruption or intermission, at Mrs. Bardell's house. I shall show you that Mrs. Bardell, during the whole of that time, waited on him, attended to his comforts, cooked his meals, looked out his linen for the washerwoman when it went abroad, darned, aired, and prepared it for wear when it came home, and, in short, enjoyed his fullest trust and confidence. I shall show you that, on many occasions, he gave half-pence, and on some occasions even sixpence, to her little boy. I shall prove to you, that on one occasion, when he returned from the country, he distinctly and in terms offered her marriage: previously, however, taking special care that there should be no witnesses to their solemn contract; and I am in a situation to prove to you, on the testimony of three of his own friends, most unwilling witnesses, Gentlemen, most unwilling witnesses, that on that morning he was discovered by them holding the plaintiff in his arms, and soothing her agitation by his caresses and endearments.
And now, Gentlemen, but one word more. Two letters have passed between these parties, letters that must be viewed with a cautious and suspicious eye, — letters that were evidently intended, at the time, by Pickwick, to mislead and delude any third parties into whose hands they might fall. Let me read the first: twelve o'clock. Dear Mrs. B. - Chops and Tomato sauce. Yours, Pickwick." Gentlemen, what does this mean? Chops and Tomato sauce! Yours, Pickwick! Chops! Gracious Heavens! And Tomato sauce! Gentlemen, is the happiness of a sensitive and confiding female to be trifled away by such shallow artifices as these? The next has no date whatever, which is in itself suspicious. "Dear Mrs. B., I shall not be at home to-morrow. Slow coach." And then follows this very remarkable expression,-"Don't trouble yourself about the warming-pan." The warming-pan! Why, Gentlemen, who does trouble himself about a warming-pan? Why is Mrs. Bardell so earnestly entreated not to agitate herself about this warming-pan, unless (as is no doubt the case) it is a mere cover for hidden fire-a mere substitute for some endearing word or promise, agreeably to a preconcerted system of correspondence, artfully contrived by Pickwick with a view to his contemplated desertion? And what does this allusion to the slow coach mean? For aught I know, it may be a reference
to Pickwick himself, who has most unquestionably been a criminally slow coach during the whole of this transaction, but whose speed will now be very unexpectedly accelerated, and whose wheels, Gentlemen, as he will find to his cost, will very soon be greased by you!
But enough of this, Gentlemen. It is difficult to smile with an aching heart. My client's hopes and prospects are ruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation is gone indeed. The bill is down but there is no tenant! Eligible single gentlemen pass and repass but there is no invitation for them to inquire within, or without! All is gloom and silence in the house; even the voice of the child is hushed; his infant sports are disregarded, when his other weeps. But Pickwick, Gentlemen, Pickwick, the ruthless destroyer of this domestic oasis in the desert of Goswell-street, — Pickwick, who has choked up the well, and thrown ashes on the sward, — Pickwick, who comes before you to-day with his heartless tomato-sauce and warmingpans, - Pickwick still rears his head with unblushing effrontery, and gazes without a sigh on the ruin he has made! Damages, Gentlemen, heavy damages, is the only punishment with which you can visit him, the only recompense you can award to my client! And for those damages she now appeals to an enlightened, a high-minded, a right-feeling, a conscientious, a dispassionate, a sympathizing, a contemplative Jury of her civilized countrymen !
2. THE ART OF BOOK-KEEPING. — Thomas Hood. Born, 1798; died, 1845.
How hard, when those who do not wish to lend, thus lose, their books,
I, of my "Spenser" quite bereft, last winter sore was shaken;
My "Mallet" served to knock me down, which makes me thus a talker;
And once, when I was out of town, my "Johnson " proved a "Walker." While studying, o'er the fire, one day, my "Hobbes," amidst the smoke, They bore my "Colman" clean away, and carried off my "Coke."
They picked my "Locke," to me far more than Bramah's patent worth,
For though I caught them stealing "Swift," as swiftly went my "Steele."
Hope" is not now upon my shelf, where late he stood elated; But what is strange, my "Pope" himself is excommunicated.
My little "Suckling" in the grave is sunk to swell the ravage;
And what was Crusoe's fate to save, 't was mine to lose, — a "Savage.”