PROMETHEUS BOUND. [ÆSCHYLUS, a famous tragic poet of Greece, was born in Attica, B. c. 525, and died in Sicily, at the age of 68. At the age of 25, he was a competitor for the prize of tragedy, which he did not gain, however, until fifteen years later. Eschylus fought at the battles of Marathon, Salamis, and Platea. In 468 B. c., Sophocles defeated him in a contest for the honors of tragedy, when he quitted Athens, and took up his residence at Syraeuse. The dramas of Eschylus which have survived, are only seven, out of seventy said to have been written by him. He was a great and original genius, and did much to perfect dramatic art, limiting the choral parts, introducing the'dialogue, and improving the costumes and scenery of the stage.] Chor. I grieve, Prometheus, for thy dreary fate, With streams, as when the watery south wind blows, For lo! these things are all unenviable, ANTISTROPH. And all the country echoeth with the moan, Of ancient days far-seen that thou didst share And all the mortal men who hold the plain They grieve in sympathy For thy woes lamentable. STROPH II. And they, the maiden band who find their home Or Scythian horde in earth's remotest clime, ANTISTROPII II. And warlike glory of Arabia's tribes, Who nigh to Caucasos In rock fort dwell, An army fearful with sharp pointed spear Raging in war's array. STROPH III. One other Titan only have I seen, One other of the gods, Thus bound in woes of adamantine strength— Atlas, who ever groans Beneath the burden of a crushing might, The out-spread vault of heaven. ANTISTROPH III. And lo! the ocean billows murmur loud The sea-depths groan, and Hades' swarthy pit And fountains of clear rivers as they flow, Prom. Think not it is through pride or stiff self-will By which to free myself from this my woe. Chor. Foul shame thou sufferest: of thy sense be reaved, Thou errest greatly: and like leech unskilled, Prom. Hearing what yet remains thou'lt wonder more, What arts and what resources I devised: And this the chief: if any one fell ill, There was no help for him, nor healing food, Nor unguent, nor yet potion; but for want Of drugs they wasted, till I showed to them The blendings of all mild medicaments, I gave them many modes of prophecy; And I first taught them what dreams needs must prove 336 ETIQUETTE AT THE COURT OF UGANDA. True visions, and made known the ominous sounds Full hard to know; and tokens by the way, And flights of taloned birds I clearly marked- Each with the other, and their loves and friendships, And I gave eyes to omens drawn from fire, In one short word, then, learn the truth condensed- Chorus: Nay, be not thou to men so over kind, Prom. It is not thus that Fate's decree is fixed; Chor. Who guides the helm, then, of Necessity? Prom. Of other theme make mention, for the time It must be hidden to the uttermost ; For by thus keeping it it is that I Escape my bondage foul, and these my pains. STROPH I. Chor. Ah! ne'er may Zeus the lord ANTISTROPH I. To spend long years of life I shudder, seeing thee Thus vexed and harassed sore STROPH II. See how that boon, dear friends, Say, where is any help? What aid from mortals comes? Hast thou not seen this brief and powerless life, Fleeting as dreams, with which man's purblind race Is fast in fetters bound? Never shall counsels vain Of mortal men break through The harmony of Zeus. Prom. Yea, now in very deed, No more in word alone, In wild conflicting blasts, O Mother venerable! O Æther! rolling round The common light of all, ETIQUETTE AT THE COURT OF [CAPTAIN JOHN H. SPEKE, born in 1827, died in 1864 an English traveller, led with Captain Grant the expedi tion for African discovery which established the con nection of the Nile with the lakes of Central Africa, He published a “Journal of the Discovery of the Source of the Nile" (1863), and “ What Led to the Discovery of the Source of the Nile" (1864).] The mighty king was now reported to be sitting on his throne in the state-hut of the third tier. I advanced hat in hand, with my guard of honor following, formed in T FUNERAL ORATION OF HENRIETTA MARIA. 337 one near me dared speak, or even lift his head from fear of being accused of eyeing the women; so the king and myself sat staring at one another for full an hour--I mute, but him on the novelty of my guard and general appearance, and even requiring to see my hat lifted, the umbrella shut and opened, and the guards face about and show off their red cloaks-for such wonders had never been seen in Uganda. Then finding the day waning, he sent Mau la on an embassy to ask me if I had seen him; and on receiving my reply, 'Yes, for full one hour,' I was glad to find him rise, spear in hand, lead his dog, and walk unceremoniously away through the inclosure into the fourth tier of huts; for this being a pure levée day, no business was transacted. The king's gait in retiring was intended to be very majestic, but did not succeed in conveying to me that impression. It was the traditional walk of his race, founded on the step of the lion; but the outward sweep of the legs, intended to represent the stride of the noble beast, appeared to me only to realise a very ludicrous kind of waddle. open ranks, who in their turn were followed by the bearers carrying the present. I did not walk straight up to him as if to shake hands, but went outside the ranks of a threesided square of squatting Wakungu, all hab-he pointing and remarking with those around ited in skins, mostly cow-skins; some few of them had, in addition, leopard-cat skins girt round the waist, the sign of royal blood. Here I was desired to halt and sit in the glaring sun; so I donned my hat, mounted my umbrella-a phenomenon which set them all a-wondering and laughing-ordered the guard to close ranks, and sat gazing at the novel spectacle. A more theatrical sight I never saw. The king, a well-figured, tall young man of twenty-five, was sitting on a red blanket spread upon a square platform of royal grass, encased in tiger-grass reeds, scrupulously well-dressed. The hair of his head was cut short, excepting on the top, where it was combed up to a high ridge, running from stem to stern like a cock's comb. On his neck was a very neat ornament a large ring of beautifully worked small beads, forming elegant patterns by their various colors. On one arm was another bead ornament, prettily devised; on the other a wooden charm, tied by a string covered with a snake-skin. On every finger and every toe he had alternate brass and copper rings; and above the ankles, half- FUNERAL ORATION ON way up to the calf, a stocking of very pretty beads. Everything was light, neat and elegant in its way; not a fault could be found with the taste of his 'getting up.' For a handkerchief he held a well-folded piece of [JACQUES BENIGNE BOSSUET, one of the greatest pulpit bark, and a piece of gold-embroidered silk, orators of France, born at Dijon, 1627, died bishop of which he constantly employed to hide his Meaux, in 1704. He early became celebrated for his. large mouth when laughing, or to wipe it learning and eloquence, and in 1661 was made preacher after a drink of plantain wine, of which he to the French court, and ten years later a member of took constant and copious draughts from the Academy. Bossuet wrote a History of the Diversities. neat little gourd-cups, administered by his of the Protestant churches, with several other controver ladies-in-waiting, who were at once his sis-sial works, a Discours sur l'Histoire Universel, and a multers and wives. A white dog, spear, shield, and woman-the Uganda cognisance-were by his side, as also a knot of staff-officers, with whom he kept up a brisk conversation on one side, and on the other was a band of Wachézi, or lady-sorcerers. I was now asked to draw nearer within the hollow square of squatters, where leopard skins were strewed upon the ground, and a large copper kettle-drum, surmounted with brass bells on arching wires, along with two smaller drums covered with cowrie-shells, and beads of color worked into patterns, were placed. I now longed to open conversation, but knew not the language, and no VOL. VIII. ETTA MARIA. HENRI TRANSLATED BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR. titude of sermons. His funeral orations are regarded as. models of sacred eloquence. His discourse on the death of Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I. of England, and daughter of Henry IV. of France, and the funeral dis course upon her daughter, the youthful and well beloved Madame, Duchess of Orleans, are among the finest of these. "Bossuet, himself the eagle of elo. quence," (says a great preacher) in his funeral sermon on Henrietta Maria, the queen of misfortunes, depicted the sorrows of her birth and her estate so as to gather up the audience in his arms, to moisten the faces of men with tears, to show them the nothingness of mortal glory, and the beauty of eternal life."] Who can express the sorrows of this unhappy queen? Who can record her lamen 191 |