Alas! my lord,

It is it is most true. In such a cause

I am the veriest coward. O pity me!

Pol. (greatly softened.) Alas! —I do — indeed I pity thee.

'Cas. And Lalage

Pol. Scoundrel! — arise and die!

Cas. It needeth not be thus thus — O let me

die

Thus on my bended knee. It were most fitting
That in this deep humiliation I perish.

For in the fight I will not raise a hand

Against thee, Earl of Leicester. Strike thou home

(baring his bosom.)

Here is no let or hindrance to thy weapon

Strike home. I will not fight thee.

Pol. Now 's Death and Hell!

Am I not am I not sorely-grievously tempted
To take thee at thy word? But mark me, sir!
Think not to fly me thus. Do thou prepare

For public insult in the streets before
The eyes of the citizens. I'll follow thee
Like an avenging spirit I 'll follow thee
Even unto death. Before those whom thou lovest

Before all Rome I'll taunt thee, villain, I'll taunt

thee,

Dost hear? with cowardice thou wilt not fight me? Thou liest! thou shalt!

Cas. Now this indeed is just!

(exit.)

Most righteous, and most just, avenging Heaven!

LATER POEMS

LATER POEMS

THE BELLS

I

Hear the sledges with the bells —

Silver bells!

What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!

While the stars that oversprinkle
All the Heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time.
In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells-

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

II

Hear the mellow wedding bells —

Golden bells!

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,

And all in time,

What a liquid ditty floats

To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats

On the moon!