PUCK. A stranger Pyramus than e'er played here.

FLU. Must I speak now?

[Aside-Exit.

QUIN. Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come

gain. FLU.

Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of color like the red rose on triumphant brier,
Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely Jew,
As true as truest horse that yet would never tire
I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.

QUIN. Ninus' tomb,' man! why, you must not speak that yet; that you answer to Pyramus; you speak all your part at once, cues and all. Pyramus enter! your cue is past; it is, 'never tire.'

FLU. O,-as true as truest horse that yet would never tire.

[Re-enter Puck, and Bottom, with an ass's head.] BOT. If I were fair, Thisbe, I were only thine. QUIN. O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray, masters! fly, masters! Help!

THE KNIGHT'S TOAST.

ANON.

[Exit Clowns.

THE feast is o'er! Now brimming wine
In lordly cup is seen to shine

Before each eager guest;

And silence fills the crowded hall,
As deep as when the herald's call
Thrills in the loyal breast.

Then up arose the noble host,

And smiling cried: "A toast! a toast!
To all our ladies fair!

Here before all, I pledge the name

Of Staunton's proud and beauteous dame,-
The Ladye Gundamere !"

Then to his feet each gallant sprung,
And joyous was the shout that rung,
As Stanley gave the word;

And every cup was raised on high,
Nor ceased the loud and gladsome cry,
Till Stanley's voice was heard.

Enough, enough," he smiling said,
And lowly bent his haughty head;
"That all may have their due,
Now each in turn must play his part,
And pledge the lady of his heart,

Like gallant knight and true!"

Then one by one each guest sprang up,
And drained in turn the brimming cup,
And named the loved one's name;
And each, as hand on high he raised,
His lady's grace or beauty praised,
Her constancy and fame.

'Tis now St. Leon's turn to rise; On him are fixed those countless eyes;A gallant knight is he;

Envied by some, admired by all,

Far famed in lady's bower, and hall,—
The flower of chivalry.

St. Leon raised his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high;

"I drink to one," he said, "Whose image never may depart, Deep graven on this grateful heart, Till memory be dead.

To one, whose love for me shall last, When lighter passions long have past,So holy 'tis and true;

To one, whose love hath longer dwelt,
More deeply fixed, more keenly felt,
Than any pledged by you."

Each guest upstarted at the word,
And laid a hand upon his sword,
With fury flashing eye;

And Stanley said: "We crave the name,
Proud knight, of this most peerless dame
Whose love you count so high."

St. Leon paused, as if he would

Not breathe her name in careless mood,
Thus lightly to another;

Then bent his noble head, as though
To give that word the reverence due,
And gently said: "My Mother!"

LADY CLARE.

TENNYSON.

IT was the time when lilies blow,
And clouds are highest up in air,
Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe
To give his cousin, Lady Clare.

I trow they did not part in scorn;
Lovers long-betroth'd were they;

They two will wed the morrow morn;
God's blessing on the day!

He does not love me for my birth,
Nor for my lands so broad and fair;
He loves me for my own true worth,
And that is well," said Lady Clare.

In there came old Alice the nurse,

Said,

Who was this that went from thee ?"

"It was my cousin," said Lady Clare,

"To-morrow he weds with me."

"O God be thank'd," said Alice the nurse,

That all comes round so just and fair; Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands,

And

you are not the Lady Clare."

"Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse Said Lady Clare, "that ye speak so wild ?" "As God's above," said Alice the nurse,

I speak the truth; you are my child !.

"The old Earl's daughter died at my breast;
I speak the truth, as I live by bread!
I buried her like my own sweet child,
And put my child in her stead."

"Falsely, falsely have ye done,

O mother," she said; "if this be true,
To keep the best man under the sun
So many years from his due."

Nay now, my child," said Alice the nurse,
"But keep the secret for your life,

And all you have will be Lord Ronald's
When you are man and wife.”

"If I'm a beggar born," she said,

44

I will speak out, for I dare not lie. Pull off, pull off the brooch of gold,

And fling the diamond necklace by."

"Nay now, my child,” said Alice the nurse,

But keep the secret all ye can."

She said, "Not so; but I will know
If there be any faith in man."

Nay now, what faith ?" said Alice the nurse. “The man will cleave unto his right." "And he shall have it," the lady replied,

"Yet give one kiss to your mother dear!
Alas, my child, I sinned for thee."
O, Mother, Mother, Mother," she said,
"So strange it seems to me.

"Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear,
My mother dear, if this be so,

And lay your hand upon my head,
And bless me, mother, ere I go."

She clad herself in a russet gown,
She was no longer Lady Clare;
She went by dale, and she went by down,
With a single rose in her hair.

The lily-white doe Lord Ronald had brought
Leapt up from where she lay,

Dropt her head in the maiden's hand,
And follow'd her all the way.

Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower:
"O Lady Clare, you shame your worthꞌ
Why come you drest like a village maid,
That are the flower of the earth?”