the bleeding body of my father flung amid the blazing rafters 60 of our dwelling. To-day I killed a man in the arena, and when I broke his helmet-clasps, behold, he was my friend! He knew me,-smiled faintly,-gasped,-and died; the same sweet smile that I had marked upon his face when, in adventurous boyhood, we scaled some lofty cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes, and bear them 65 home in childish triumph. I told the prætor he was my friend, noble and brave, and I begged his body, that I might burn it upon the funeral pile, and mourn over his ashes. Ay, on my knees, amid the dust and blood of the arena, I begged that boon, while all the Roman maids and matrons, and those holy virgins they 70 call vestal, and the rabble, shouted in mockery, deeming it rare sport, forsooth, to see Rome's fiercest gladiator turn pale, and tremble like a very child before that piece of bleeding clay; but the prætor drew back as if I were pollution, and sternly said: 'Let the carrion rot! There are no noble men but Romans!' And he, 75 deprived of funeral rites, must wander, a hapless ghost, beside the waters of that sluggish river, and look—and look—and look in vain to the bright Elysian Fields where dwell his ancestors and noble kindred. And so must you, and so must I, die like dogs! "O Rome! Rome! thou hast been a tender nurse to me! 80 Ay, thou hast given to that poor, gentle, timid shepherd lad, who never knew a harsher sound than a flute note, muscles of iron and a heart of flint; taught him to drive the sword through rugged brass and plaited mail, and warm it in the marrow of his foe! to gaze into the glaring eyeballs of the fierce Numidian lion, even 85 as a smooth-cheeked boy upon a laughing girl. And he shall pay thee back till thy yellow Tiber is red as frothing wine, and in its deepest ooze thy lifeblood lies curdled! "Ye stand here now like giants, as ye are! The strength of brass is in your toughened sinews; but to-morrow some Roman 90 Adonis, breathing sweet odors from his curly locks, shall come, and with his lily fingers pat your brawny shoulders, and bet his sesterces upon your blood! Hark! Hear ye yon lion roaring in his den? 'Tis three days since he tasted meat; but to-morrow he shall break his fast upon your flesh; and ye shall be a dainty meal for him. 95 "If ye are brutes, then stand here like fat oxen waiting for the butcher's knife; if ye are men, follow me! strike down yon sentinel, and gain the mountain passes, and there do bloody work as did your sires at old Thermopyla! Is Sparta dead? Is the old Grecian spirit frozen in your veins, that ye do crouch and cower 100 like base-born slaves beneath your master's lash? O comrades! warriors! Thracians! if we must fight, let us fight for ourselves; if we must slaughter, let us slaughter our oppressors; if we must die, let us die under the open sky, by the bright waters, in noble, honorable battle." GLOSSARY. Spartacus; Capua; Lentulus; eagles; amphitheater; Volturnus; arena; Jupiter; Helicon; Marathon; Leuctra; defile; prætor; vestal; pollution; Elysian Fields; plaited mail; Numidian; yellow Tiber; Adonis; sesterces; Thermopyla; Thracians. STUDY. What do you gather from the opening paragraphs about the day that was just closing? Describe the scene at the time Spartacus began to speak. In what way do the sentences of the third paragraph make you feel the supremacy of Spartacus? What contrast is suggested at the close of the next paragraph? What do you learn of his early life and of the influences that made him what he is? What is his feeling toward Rome? What has caused it? Notice the terrible satire directed toward Rome, in the seventh paragraph of the speech. What threat does it contain? What points does he use as a means of moving the other gladiators to join in a mutiny? Why are the constant references to the past glories of Greece especially effective? As you listen to his speech, do you find yourself entirely sympathizing with him and hating the Roman cruelty and indifference to human touches? Read so as to bring out your feeling. 105 THE RHODORA RALPH WALDO EMERSON In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, 5 10 15 To please the desert and the sluggish brook. Made the black water with their beauty gay; This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, Then beauty is its own excuse for being: Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose! I never thought to ask, I never knew: But, in my simple ignorance, suppose The selfsame Power that brought me there brought you. GLOSSARY. Rhodora; cheapens; sages; selfsame. STUDY. Under what surroundings did the speaker find the rhodora? What suggests its great beauty? What question arises in connection with the apparent waste of this beauty? Comment on line 12. What is the poet's attitude toward the question? Was it "simple ignorance" or the highest wisdom? LOCKSLEY, THE ARCHER SIR WALTER SCOTT More than thirty yeomen at first presented themselves as competitors, several of whom were rangers and under-keepers in the royal forests of Needwood and Charnwood. When, however, the archers understood with whom they were to be matched, up5 wards of twenty withdrew themselves from the contest, unwilling to encounter the dishonor of almost certain defeat. For in those days the skill of each celebrated marksman was as well known for many miles round him as the qualities of a horse trained at Newmarket are familiar to those who frequent that well-known 10 meeting. The diminished list of competitors for silvan fame still amounted to eight. Prince John stepped from his royal seat to view more nearly the persons of these chosen yeomen, several of whom wore the royal livery. Having satisfied his curiosity by this investigation, he looked for the object of his resentment, 15 whom he observed standing on the same spot, and with the same composed countenance which he had exhibited upon the preceding day. "Fellow," said Prince John, "I guessed by thy insolent babble thou wert no true lover of the long bow, and I see thou darest 20 not adventure thy skill among such merry men as stand yonder.” "Under favor, sir," replied the yeomen, "I have another reason for refraining to shoot, besides the fearing discomfiture and disgrace." "And what is thy other reason?" said Prince John, who, for 25 some cause which perhaps he could not himself have explained, felt a painful curiosity respecting this individual. "Because," replied the woodsman, "I know not if these yeomen and I are used to shoot at the same marks; and because, moreover, I know not how your Grace might relish the winning of a third prize by one who has unwittingly fallen under your displeasure." Prince John colored as he put the question, "What is thy name, yeoman?” "Locksley," answered the yeoman. "Then, Locksley," said Prince John, "thou shalt shoot in thy turn, when these yeomen have displayed their skill. If thou carriest the prize, I will add to it twenty nobles; but if thou losest it, thou shalt be stripped of thy Lincoln green and scourged out of the lists with bowstrings, for a wordy and insolent braggart.' "And how if I refuse to shoot on such a wager?" said the yeoman. "Your Grace's power, supported, as it is, by so many men at arms, may indeed easily strip and scourge me, but cannot compel me to bend or to draw my bow." 30 35 40 "If thou refusest my fair proffer," said the prince, "the pro- 45 vost of the lists shall cut thy bowstring, break thy bow and arrows, and expel thee from the presence as a faint-hearted craven." "This is no fair chance you put on me, proud Prince,” said the yeoman, "to compel me to peril myself against the best archers 50 of Leicester and Staffordshire, under the penalty of infamy if they should overshoot me. Nevertheless, I will obey your pleasure." "Look to him close, men at arms,' said Prince John, “his heart is sinking; I am jealous lest he attempt to escape the trial. And do you, good fellows, shoot boldly round; a buck and a butt 55 of wine are ready for your refreshment in yonder tent when the prize is won." A target was placed at the upper end of the southern avenue which led to the lists. The contending archers took their station in turn, at the bottom of the southern access; the distance between 60 that station and the mark allowing full distance for what was called a shot at rovers. The archers, having previously determined by lot their order of precedence, were to shoot each three shafts in succession. The sports were regulated by an officer of inferior rank, termed the provost of the games; for the high rank 65 of the marshals of the lists would have been held degraded had they condescended to superintend the sports of the yeomanry. One by one the archers, stepping forward, delivered their shafts yeomanlike and bravely. Of twenty-four arrows shot in succession, ten were fixed in the target, and the others ranged 70 so near it that, considering the distance of the mark, it was accounted good archery. Of the ten shafts which hit the target, two within the inner ring were shot by Hubert, a forester in the service of Malvoisin, who was accordingly pronounced victorious. "Now, Locksley," said Prince John to the bold yeoman, with 75 a bitter smile, "wilt thou try conclusions with Hubert, or wilt thou yield up bow, baldric, and quiver to the provost of the sports?" Sith it be no better," said Locksley, "I am content to try my fortune; on condition that when I have shot two shafts at yonder mark of Hubert's, he shall be bound to shoot one at that 80 which I shall propose." "That is but fair," answered Prince John, "and it shall not |