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It shall blot out the marks of infamy,
And when the warriors of the days to come
Tell of Ximalpoca, it shall be said

He died the brave man's death!

Not of the God

Unworthy, do I seek his altar thus,
A voluntary victim. And perchance
The sacrifice of life may profit ye
My people, tho' all living efforts fail'd

By fortune, not by fault.

Cease your lament!

And if your ill-doom'd King deserved your love,
Say of him to your children, he was one

Who bravely bore misfortune; who when life
Became dishonour, shook his body off,
And join'd the Spirits of the heroes dead.
Yes! not in Miclanteuctli's dark abode

With cowards shall your King receive his doom;
'Not in the icy caverns of the North

Suffer thro' endless ages! He shall join

The Spirits of the brave, with them at morn
Shall issue from the eastern gate of Heaven,

And follow thro' his fields of light the Sun;
With them shall raise the song and weave the dance;

Sport in the stream of splendour; company
Down to the western palace of his rest
The Prince of Glory; and with equal eye
Endure his centered radiance. Not of you
Forgetful, O my people, even then;

But often in the amber cloud of noon

Diffus'd, will I o'erspread your summer fields,

And on the freshened maize and brightening meads Shower plenty.

Spirits of my valiant Sires,

I come! Mexitli, never at thy shrine

Flow'd braver blood! never a nobler heart

Steam'd up its life to thee! Priest of the God,
Perform your office!

The WIFE of FERGUS.

Fergusius 3. periit. veneno ab uxore dato. Alii scribuR cum uxor sæpe exprobrasset ei matrimonii contemptum et pellicum greges, neque quicquam profecisset, tandem noctu dormientem ab ea strangulatum. Quæstione de morie ejus habitâ, cum amicorum plurimi insimularentur, nec quisquam ne in gravissimis quidem tormentis quicquam fateretur, mulier, alioqui ferox, tot innoxiorum capitum miserta, in medium processit, ac e superiore loco cædem a se faciam confessa, ne ad ludibrium superesset, pectus cultro transfodit: quod ejus factum varie pro cujusque ingenio est acceptum, ac perinde sermonibus celebratum.

Buchanan.

SCENE The Palace Court.

The Queen speaking from the
Battlements.

Cease.. cease your torments! spare the sufferers! Scotchmen, not theirs the deed; . . the crime was mine.

Mine is the glory.

Idle threats! I stand

Secure. All access to these battlements

Is barr'd beyond your sudden strength to force;
And lo! the dagger by which Fergus died!

E

Shame on ye Scotchmen, that a woman's hand
Was left to do this deed! Shame on ye Thanes,
Who with slave-patience have so long endured
The wrongs, and insolence of tyranny!

Ye coward race!.. that not a husband's sword
Smote that adulterous King! that not a wife
Revenged her own pollution; in his blood
Wash'd her soul pure, and for the sin compell'd
Aton'd by virtuous murder! O my God!

Of what beast matter hast thou moulded them
To bear with wrongs like these? There was a time
When if the Bard had feign'd you such a tale
Your eyes had throbb'd with anger, and your hands
In honest instinct would have graspt the sword.
O miserable men who have disgraced

Your fathers, whom your sons must blush to name!

Aye,.. ye can threaten me! ye can be brave

In anger to a woman! one whose virtue

Upbraids your coward vice; whose name will live
Honoured and prais'd in song, when not a hand
Shall root from your forgotten monuments

The cankering moss. Fools! fools! to think that death
Is not a thing familiar to my mind!

As if I knew not what must consummate
My glory! as if ought that earth can give
Could tempt me to endure the load of life! ...
Scotchmen! ye saw when Fergus to the altar
Led me, his maiden Queen. Ye blest me then,..
I heard you bless me,.. and I thought that Heaven
Had heard you also and that I was blest,

For I loved Fergus. Bear me witness, God!
With what a sacred heart-sincerity

My lips pronounced the unrecallable vow

That made me his, him mine; bear witness Thou!
Before whose throne I this day must appear
Stain'd with his blood and mine! my heart was his,..
His in the strength of all its first affections.

In all obedience, in all love, I kept

Holy my marriage vow. Behold me Thanes!
Time hath not changed the face on which his eye
So often dwelt, when with assiduous care

He sought my love; with seeming truth, for one,
Sincere herself, impossible to doubt.

Time hath not changed that face; .. I speak not now
With pride of beauties that will feed the worm
To morrow! but with joyful pride I say

That if the truest and most perfect love

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