LESSON LXXVI.

KING EDWARD, WARWICK, AND SUFFOLK.-FRANKLIN.

Edward. Good Suffolk, for awhile

I would be private; therefore, wait without;

Let me have no intruders; above all,

Keep Warwick from my sight. [Exit Suffolk. Enter Warwick.]
Warwick. Behold him here;

No welcome guest, it seems, unless I ask
My lord of Suffolk's leave: there was a time
When Warwick wanted not his aid to gain
Admission here.

Ed. There was a time, perhaps,

When Warwick more desired, and more deserved it.

War. Never! I've been a foolish, faithful slave:

All my best years, the morning of my life,
Have been devoted to your service. What
Are now the fruits? Disgrace and infamy;
My spotless name, which never yet the breath
Of calumny had tainted, made the mock
For foreign fools to carp at: but 't is fit,
Who trust in princes, should be thus rewarded.

Ed. I thought, my lord, I had full well repaid
Your services with honors, wealth, and power
Unlimited: thy all-directing hand

Guided in secret every latent wheel

Of government, and moved the whole machine:
Warwick was all in all, and powerless Edward
Stood like a cipher in the great account.

War. Who gave that cipher worth, and seated thee
On England's throne? Thy undistinguished name

• Edward IV., king of Englaud, born in 1441. b Warwick, see p. 152.

Had rotted in the dust, from whence it sprung,
And moldered in oblivion, had not Warwick
Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore,
And stamped it with a diadem. Thou knowest,
This wretched country, doomed perhaps, like Rome,
To fall by its own self-destroying hand,

Tossed for so many years in the rough sea
Of civil discord, but for me had perished.

In that distressful hour, I seized the helm,
Bade the rough wave subside in peace, and steered
Your shattered vessel safe into the harbor.

You may despise, perhaps, that useless aid
Which you no longer want; but know, proud youth,
He who forgets a friend, deserves a foe.

Ed. Know too, reproach for benefits received,
Pays every debt, and cancels obligation.

War. Why, that indeed is frugal honesty, A thrifty, saving knowledge; when the debt Grows burdensome, and cannot be discharged, A sponge will wipe out all and cost you nothing. Ed. When you have counted o'er the numerous train Of mighty gifts your bounty lavished on me,

You may remember next the injuries

Which I have done you; let me know them all,

And I will make you ample satisfaction.

War. Thou canst not; thou hast robbed me of a jewel

It is not in thy power to restore.

I was the first, shall future annals say,

That broke the sacred bonds of public trust,
And mutual confidence: embassadors,
In after times, mere instruments, perhaps,
Of venal statesmen, shall recall my name
To witness, that they want not an example,

And plead my guilt to sanctify their own.

Amidst the herd of mercenary slaves

That haunt your court, could none be found but Warwick,

To be the shameless herald of a lie?

Ed. And wouldst thou turn the vile reproach on me? If I have broke my faith, and stained the name Of England, thank thy own pernicious counsels That urged me to it, and extorted from me A cold consent to what my heart abhorred. War. I've been abused, insulted, and betrayed; My injured honor cries aloud for vengeance, Her wounds will never close.

Ed. These gusts of passion

Will but inflame them. If I have been right
Informed, my lord, besides these dangerous scars
Of bleeding honor, you have other wounds
As deep, though not so fatal; such, perhaps,
As none but fair Elizabeth can cure.

War. Elizabeth!

Ed. Nay, start not: I have cause

To wonder most. I little thought, indeed,
When Warwick told me, I might learn to love,
He was himself so able to instruct me;

But I've discovered all.

War. And so have I.

Too well I know thy breach of friendship there,

Thy faithless, base endeavors to supplant me.

Ed. I scorn it, sir!

Elizabeth hath charms;

Nor see I aught so god-like in the form,

So all-commanding in the name of Warwick,
That he alone should revel in the rays
Of beauty, and monopolize perfection.
I knew not of your love.

War. 'Tis false !

You knew it all, and meanly took occasion-
Whilst I was busied in the noble office
Your grace thought fit to honor me withal,

To tamper with a weak, unguarded woman,
And basely steal a treasure,

Your kingdom could not purchase.

Ed. How know you that? - but be it as it

I had a right, nor will I tamely yield

My claim to happiness, the privilege

To choose the partner of my throne:
It is a branch of my prerogative.

may,

War. Prerogative! What's that? the boast of tyrants, A borrowed jewel, glittering in the crown With specious luster, lent but to betray.

You had it, sir, and hold it, from the people.

Ed. And therefore do I prize it; I would guard
Their liberties, and they shall strengthen mine:
But when proud faction and her rebel crew
Insult their sovereign, trample on his law,
And bid defiance to his power, the people,
In justice to themselves, will then defend
His cause, and vindicate the rights they gave.
War. Go to your darling people, then; for soon,
If I mistake not, 't will be needful; try

Their boasted zeal, and see if one of them

Will dare to lift his arm up in your cause,
If I forbid him.

Ed. Is it so, my lord?

Then mark my words: I've been your slave too long,
And you have ruled me with a rod of iron;

But henceforth, know, proud peer, I am thy master,
And will be so. The king who delegates

His power to others' hands, but ill deserves

The crown he wears.

War. Look well then to your own:

It sits but loosely on your head; for know,

The man who injured Warwick, never passed
Unpunished yet.

Ed. Nor he who threatened Edward.

You may repent it, sir. My guards there! seize
This traitor, and convey him to the tower;-
There, let him learn obedience.

LESSON LXXVII.

CENTENNIAL ADDRESS. - STORY.

1. When we reflect on what has been, and is now, is it possible not to feel a profound sense of the responsibleness of this Republic to all future ages? What vast motives press upon us for lofty efforts! What brilliant prospects invite our enthusiasm! What solemn warnings, at once demand our vigilance, and moderate our confidence!

2. The old world has already revealed to us, in its unsealed books, the beginning and end of all its own marvelous struggles in the cause of liberty. Greece, lovely Greece, "the land of scholars, and the nurse of arms," where sister republics, in fair processions, chanted the praises of liberty and the gods, where, and what is she? For two thousand years the oppressor has bound her to the earth. Her arts are no more. The last, sad relics of her temples, are but the barracks of a ruthless soldiery; the fragments of her columns and her palaces, are in the dust, yet beautiful in ruin.

3. Where are the republics of modern times, which clustered around immortal Italy? Venice, and Genoa, exist but