796. Narrative manner. Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learned to blow, Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. 797. Pleasure. At last, divine Cecilia came, The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Concluding. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown: Awe. He raised a mortal to the skies; Delight. She drew an angel down.-Dryden. OTHELLO'S APOLOGY FOR HIS MARRIAGE. Most potent, grave, and reverend seignors: Of my whole course of love, what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic, Her father loved me; oft invited me; From year to year the battles, sieges, fortunes, I ran it through, e'en from my boyish days Of hairbreadth 'scapes in th' imminent deadly breach; And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, -All these to hear Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house affairs would draw her thence; And often did beguile her of her tears, That my youth suffered. My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs. She swore in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'Twas pitiful; 'twas wondrous pitiful; She wish'd she had not heard it; yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man. She thank'd me: And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. On this hint I spake ; And I lov'd her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft which I've us'd.-Shakspeare. THE END. A considerable portion of this book, as will be seen by the date in time. 12, Orange Street, May 2d, 1836. R. G. P. |