"I've a lover in that prison, doomed this very night

to die,

At the ringing of the Curfew, and no earthly help is nigh. Cromwell will not come till sunset," and her face grew strangely white,

As she spoke in husky whispers, "Curfew must not ring to-night."

3. MACBETH TO THE GHOST.

Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the earth hìde thee! Thy bones are màrrowless, thy blood is còld:

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes

Which thou dost glàre with!

Unreal mockery, hence!

Hence, horrible shadow!

4. HAMLET TO THE GHOST.

[Aspirated quality and occasional half-whisper.] Angels and ministers of grace defend us!

Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin dàmnedBring with thee airs from héaven, or blasts from hell

Be thy intents wicked, or charitable

Thou com'st in such a questionable shape

That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee, Hamlet,

King, father, royal Dàne: Oh, answer me:

Let me not burst in ignorance! but tell
Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,
Have burst their cèrements! why the sepulcher,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurned,

Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again? What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again, in cómplete steel,
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous: and we fools of nature,
So horribly to shake our disposition,

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? whèrefore? what should we do?

[Horror and remorse. Aspirated pectoral and guttural quality.]
And, lo! the universal air

Seemed lit with ghastly flame;—
Ten thousand thousand dreadful eyes
Were looking down in blame:
I took the dead man by his hand,
And called upon his name!

O God! it made me quake to see
Such sense within the slain!

But when I touched the lifeless clay,
The blood gushed out amain !
For every clot, a burning spot
Was scorching in my brain!

And now, from forth the frowning sky,
From the heaven's topmost height,

I heard a voice-the awful voice
Of the blood-avenging sprite:-
"Thou guilty man! take up thy dead
And hide it from my sight!"

6. MACBETH.

HOOD.

[Horror and fear. Intense suppressed force; prevailing monotone; very slow movement; strong aspirated quality.]

Now o'er the one half world

Nature seems dèad; and wicked drēams abūse
The curtained sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's ófferings; and withered murder,
Alarumed by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whōse howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
Towards his design

Moves like a ghòst.—Thōu sūre and firm-sēt earth!
Hear not my steps, which way they walk; fōr fēar
The very stones prate of my whereabout,

And take the present hōrror from the time
Which now suits with it.

7. DARIUS GREEN AND HIS FLYING MACHINE.

[Secrecy. Forcible whisper and half-whisper.]

And one by one, through a hole in the wall,
In under the dusty barn they crawl,
Dressed in their Sunday garments all;
And a very astonishing sight was that,
When each in his cobwebbed coat and hat
Came up through the floor like an ancient rat.
And there they hid;

And Reuben slid

The fastenings back, and the door undid. "Keep dark!" said he,

"While I squint an' see what the' is to see." "Hush!" Reuben said,

"He's up in the shed!

He's opened the winder-I see his head!
He stretches it out, an' pokes it about,
Lookin' to see 'f the coast is clear,
An' nobody near;—

Guess he don' o' who's hid in here!
He's riggin' a spring-board over the sill!
Stop laffin', Solomon! Burke, keep still!
He's a-climbing out now-Of all the things!
What's he got on? I van, it's wings!
An' that 't other thing? I vum, it's a tail!
An' there he sets like a hawk on a rail!
Steppin' careful, he travels the length

Of his spring-board, and teeters to try its strength.
Now he stretches his wings, like a monstrous bat;
Peeks over his shoulder, this way an' that,

Fer to see 'f there's any one passin' by;
But there's on'y a ca'f an' a goslin' nigh.
Flop-flop-an' plump

To the ground with a thump,
Flutterin' and flounderin' all in a lump."

TROWBRIDGE.

SPECIAL ASPIRATE DRILL.

[In pronouncing the following words having the combination hw, the aspiration is often very feebly given or not given at all. Sound the hw with marked force.]

[Keep the lungs well filled with air and exhaust the breath upon

The guttural, or throat, quality is the harsh, grating, rasping utterance to which the voice tends in the expression of hatred, contempt, revenge, and loathing. It is often combined with aspirated quality in the expression of extreme impatience or disgust, intense rage, and extreme contempt.

Oh, that the slave had forty thousand lives,
My great revenge had stomach for them all.

2. THE SPY.

You shall die, base dog! and that before
Yon cloud has passed over the sun!

3. SHYLOCK TO ANTONIO.

Signior Antonio, many a time and óft,
On the Riálto you have rated me
About my moneys and my ûsances;

Still have I bórne it with a patient shrúg,
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe:
You call me-misbeliever, cût-throat, dôg,
And spit upon my Jewish gàberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine òwn.
Well, thén, it now appears, you need my help.
Go to, thèn; you come to me, and you say,

66

Shylock, we would have moneys;" you say sò;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cûr
Over your thrèshold; môneys is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not sáy,
"Hath a dog money? is it possible

A cur can lend thrée thousand dúcats?" or
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
With bated breath, and whispering humbleness,