Fierce he broke forth,-" And darest thou, then, To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?

And hopest thou hence unscathed to go?

No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no!

Up drawbridge, grooms- what, warder, ho!
Let the portcullis fall."

Lord Marmion turned,- well was his need,
And dashed the rowels in his steed,
Like arrow through the archway sprung,
The ponderous grate behind him rung;
To pass there was such scanty room,
The bars, descending, razed his plume.

(SCOTT: Marmion)

A TIRADE AGAINST ART

"All art, so-called, is decay," he said, raising his voice. "When a race begins to brood on the beautiful,

so-called, it is a sign of rot, of getting ready to fall from the tree. Take the Jews, those marvelous old fellows, who were never more than a handful, yet have imposed the rule of their ideas and their gods upon us for fifteen hundred years. Why? They were forbidden by their most fundamental law to make sculptures or pictures. That was at a time when the Egyptians, when the Assyrians, and other Semites, were running to

artistic riot. Every great museum in the world now has whole floors devoted to statues from the Nile, and marvelous carvings from the palaces of Sargon and Assurbanipal. You can get the artistic remains of the Jews during that whole period into a child's wheelbarrow. They had the sense and strength to penalize art; they alone survived. They saw the Egyptians go, the Assyrians go, the Greeks go, the late Romans go, the Moors in Spain go,— all the artistic peoples perish. They remained triumphing over all. Now at last their long-belated apogee is here; their decline is at hand. I am told that in this present generation in Europe the Jews are producing a great lot of young painters and sculptors and actors, just as for a century they have been producing famous composers and musicians. That means the end of the Jews! "

(FREDERICK: The Damnation of Theron Ware)

THEY'RE OFF!

The trumpet sounded short and sharp. Forth from each stall, like missiles in a volley from so many great guns, rushed the six fours; and up the vast assembly arose, electrified and irrepressible, and, leaping upon the benches, filled the circus and the air above it with yells and screams. The arena swam in a dazzle of light; yet each driver looked first for the rope, then for the inner line. All six aiming at the same point and speeding furiously, a collision seemed inevitable.

The fours neared the rope together. Then the trumpeter by the editor's side blew a signal vigorously. Seeing the action, the judges dropped the rope; and not an instant too soon, for the hoof of one of Messala's horses struck it as it fell. Nothing daunted, the Roman

shook out his long lash, loosed the reins, and, with a triumphant shout, took the wall.

(WALLACE: Ben Hur)

ATTACK ON THE BASTILE

On, then, all Frenchmen, that have hearts in your bodies! Roar with all your throats, of cartilage and metal, ye Sons of Liberty; stir spasmodically whatsoever of utmost faculty is in you, soul, body, or spirit; for it is the hour! Smite, thou Louis Tournay, cartwright of the Marais, old soldier of the Regiment Dauphiné; smite at that outer drawbridge chain, though the fiery hail whistles round thee! Never, over nave or

6

felloe, did thy axe strike such a stroke. Down with it, man; down with it to Orcus: let the whole accursed Edifice sink thither, and Tyranny be swallowed up forever! Mounted, some say, on the roof of the guardroom, some on bayonets stuck into the joints of the wall,' Louis Tournay smites, brave Aubin Bonnemère, also an old soldier, seconding him. The chain yields, breaks; the huge Drawbridge slams down, thundering. Glorious and yet, alas, it is still but the outworks. The Eight Grim Towers, with their Invalide musketry, their paving-stones and cannon-mouths, still soar aloft intact, Ditch yawning impassable, stone-faced; the inner Drawbridge with its back toward us; the Bastile is still to take!

(CARLYLE: The French Revolution)

MARULLUS CHASTISES THE MOB

(Marullus)

Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?

You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The livelong day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome;
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?

And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes to triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone!

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,

Pray to the gods to intermit the plague

That needs must light on such ingratitude.

(SHAKESPEARE: Julius Cæsar)

The Low Register

Just as certain states of mind or feeling are most naturally and convincingly portrayed by a voice range higher than normal, so others are most fittingly expressed by a lower than normal range. The explanation lies in the fact that whereas unsuppressed excitement tenses the vocal organs, those attitudes which are markedly tranquil, soothing, or subduing have a relaxing effect upon them. Therefore, unusual calm, re

pose, humility, reverence, sympathy, tenderness and pity; also those states which involve a lowered vitality, such as weakness, gloom, depression, and sorrow, all of these find natural and suggestive expression in the low range.

It will not be amiss to observe again that in using the low range the tones of the middle register are not excluded. On the contrary, there is more or less frequent employment of the lower tones of the middle register. But the prevailing range as a whole is lower than the normal. At no point should the voice drop to such a point that the words become inaudible. This fault is especially likely to occur at the termination of sentences.

In working on the following selections for control, firmness of tone and flexibility of inflection in the low range, it is especially necessary to understand, and sympathize with the mental and emotional attitude expressed in the selection. Without such sympathy, the low, soft voice alone is likely to leave both the audience and the speaker himself cold and unmoved.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICAL APPLICATION

THE MAN WHO WEARS THE BUTTON

Sometimes in passing along the street I meet a man who, in the left lapel of his coat, wears a little, plain, modest, unassuming bronze button. The coat is often old and rusty; the face above it seamed and furrowed by the toil and suffering of adverse years; perhaps beside it hangs an empty sleeve, and below it stumps a wooden peg. But when I meet the man who wears that button I doff my hat and stand uncovered in his pres- yea! to me the very dust his weary foot has

ence