Suetonius. Cathul, this is a moving sight.

Boadicea. Mine eyes are dim-my heart is burning, and

My brain is swimming sick and dizzily.

What ho! my guards! ye thousands who have charged

The Romans at my bidding! come and save

Your injured Princess-Ha! the slaves are mute

And motionless as midnight.

Suetonius. This struggle soon will end.

Boadicea. I faint-I fail; oh! is there no one here On which a poor and crownless queen may lean

Her lone and weary head?

Cathul. My sovereign

Boadicea. Viper! avaunt!

Cathul. Such words are not too kind.

[She falls.

Boadicea. Ha! dost thou leer upon me, thou arch fiend?

Here, on my stony pillow, I bequeath

Thee and thy seed my power; but with it all

The sorrows, fears, and miseries of state;
The hollow friendship; and the flattery

That runs like poison round the purple board

Of monarchs and their slaves; and take my crown,
The throne, and sceptre; for whose hollow joys
Thou hast for ever pawn'd that summer peace,
That sweet and calm serenity of thought,

Which clothed thy boyish hours; those gentle dreams
Shall never, never visit thee again.

Thou vain ambitious traitor, take them; ay,

. My sovereignty with all its cares,

Its sleepless nights, its fearful visions, and

Its duli and tasteless days of tyranny,

And wild and awful dreams in which the ghost

Of murder'd liberty shall rise and bare

The breast which thou hast stabb'd; and take the hate,

The deep and deadly hate of the oppress'd,

Whose oaths are peal'd against thee to high heaven;
The orphan's groan; the widow's bitter prayer :

Take all the terrors which despair and fear
Blow round a traitor's spirit; take them with
My last and dying curse; false renegade!
By earth and earth's, her sorrows and her pains,
Her groans and sufferings, and her blasphemies,
Her wars and famines, and her pestilence,
Her graves, her hollow epitaphs and worms,
Her dead and living horrors,-by deep hell
And all the furies in its lowest gulphs,
Its darkness and despair, its miseries,
Its writhing victims, and its awful king,
Who battled with the Infinite, and bore

His charge of levelling thunder,-by the curse,
The deep and deathless ban, of highest heaven,-
I here devote thee to a felon's doom!

Reptile! thou'lt perish,—and for ever sink

To utter darkness; thy vile corse will be

Thrust from thy father's sepulchres to bleach
Among the terrors of the wilderness.

Thou❜lt have no one to mourn thee; but the storm
That tells a tale of desolation, and

Hurls the avalanche down to the vale,

Shall be the only music of thy dirge;

The blessed moon that gilds the warrior's grave,
The stars, that like the virgin eyes of love

Woo the young flowers upon it, will not smile

Above thy ashes.

Suetonius. Cathul, that curse is bitter.

Boadicea.

Where are my flatterers and my favourites, who

Like summer insects, sported in the beam

Of my prosperity? they all are gone

With Fortune on her wanderings.

Suetonius. Our war at last is ended.

Boadicea. And now the world grows dim-it fades-it sinks. All sights are wearing into shadows; and Mine eye-balls fail to single from the dark My last unshaken warriors, who stood Unflinching in the very jaws of death: Yet, still I feel their cold limbs by my side

Oh! this is gentle, Romans; thus to leave

My brothers with me. Ah my sight spins round
In fiery flashes-I am sick, and chill-

And all hath vanish'd. Oh! the night is cold-
Dark-dark-without a breaking.

THE CURTAIN FALLS.

[Dies.

DEAR NATIVE REGIONS.

DEAR native Regions, I foretell,
From what I feel at this farewell,
That, wheresoe'er my steps shall tend,
And whensoe'er my course shall end,
If in that hour a single tie
Survive of local sympathy,

My soul will cast the backward view,
The longing look alone on you.

Thus, when the Sun, prepared for rest,
Hath gained the precincts of the West,
Though his departing radiance fail
To illuminate the hollow Vale,

A lingering light he fondly throws

On the dear mountain-tops where first he rose.

WORDSWORTH,

FROGERE had been a comic actor of no very great celebrity, in Paris. He went to Russia, where he became the favourite and the intimate asso ciate of the Emperor Paul. Easy and pleasant, however, as was the friendship which for so long a time subsisted between these two eminent personages, it did once happen that the player was provided with leisure and opportunity for considering the important question, whether it be altogether prudent or safe to make very free indeed with an Emperor of all the Russias? At supper one evening, at the emperor's table, some one present took occasion to pay the illustrious host a compliment at the expense of Peter the Great. The emperor, turning to Frogere, said, "This is really robbing Peter to pay Paul: 'tis hardly fair, is it Frogere ?". "Quite the reverse, sire," replied the actor; " for the reputation your majesty will leave behind you will hardly tempt any one to rob Paul in return." Now, though this was almost as good a thing as any one need wish to say, it somehow happened that his majesty did not appear to be in the least tickled by it; and as his majesty did not condescend to honour it with his imperial laugh, no one else could presume to notice it by such a symptom of approbation. In fact the joke with all its merit was a total failure; at which nobody was so much astonished as the perpetrator of it himself. After a short time the emperor withdrew, and the company separated. Frogere retired to his own apartment. He was any thing but happy in his mind. His jest had fallen flat; and such a mishap to a professed joker is as serious a calamity, as the failure of a commercial speculation to a merchant. But to what strange cause could he attribute its ill success. The joke was a good joke, there was no denying of it; and, were it otherwise, the emperor was not so squeamish a critic, but that he had laughed heartily at many a He thought, and thought—and thought again; but since his cogitations availed him nothing (he being still unable with all his sagacity, to discover what could have occasioned his failure), he got into bed, and like a wise man as he was, fell fast asleep.

worse.

It was the middle of a Russian winter. In the dead of the night Frogere was aroused by a loud knocking at his chamberdoor. He arose and opened it, and greatly to his astonishment, an officer, accompanied by four soldiers armed to the very teeth, entered the room. Frogere, having no reason to expect such a visit, naturally concluded that the officer (an old acquaintance of his, who had the honour of being of the emperor's party on the previous evening) had mistaken his room for that of some other person. Alas! he was speedily convinced there was no mistake,

but that the untimely and alarming visit was indeed to him: the officer exhibited the emperor's warrant for his arrest, and immediate banishment to Siberia! The effect produced on him, by this terrible announcement may-to use a phrase less remarkable for its novelty than for its convenience upon occasions of this nature"may be more easily conceived than described." The idea of a trip to Siberia has shaken firmer nerves than those of poor Frogere. He wept-he screamed-he knelt-he tore his hair. What crime had he committed to draw down upon him so heavy a punishment? Could he not obtain a short delay? Of a day-a few hours only-merely, then, till he could see the emperor, that he might throw himself at his feet? His supplications were in vain the emperor's commands were precise and peremptory; and if ever there was an absolute monarch who allowed his mandate to be trifled with, certainly it was not the Emperor Paul. All that the unfortunate man could obtain from the officer, who was his friend, was just sufficient delay to enable him to throw a small quantity of clothes and linen into a trunk; and having done this, he was led forth. A carriage, guarded by a sufficiently strong body of cavalry, was in waiting, and more dead than alive, he was lifted into it: a soldier armed with a brace of pistols, and a sabre drawn, taking his seat on each side of him. The officer having seen that the windows of the carriage were carefully closed, so as to prevent the prisoner's communication with any one from without, headed the cavalcade, gave the word, and they started, at a brisk trot, on their formidable journey. How long they had travelled till they made their first halt he knew not, for he was in total darkness, and his guards were dumb to all his inquiries: they were strictly forbidden to speak to the prisoner, and few Russian soldiers are so much in love with the knout, as to disobey orders: but reckoning time by his sighs and groans, and lamentations, it seemed to him an eternity. At length the carriage-door was opened. It was broad day; but he was not long permitted to enjoy the blessed light of the sun, for he was instantly blindfolded, and in that state led into a miserable hovel. Here the bandage was removed from his eyes, and he found himself in a small room, the windows of which being closed was dimly lighted by a solitary candle. Some coarse food was placed on a rough wooden table, and signs were made to him that he should But a few hours ago he was revelling amidst the splendour and enjoying the luxuries of a palace, princes the partakers of his pleasures, a mighty potentate his boon companion. Now-disgraced; a banished and forlorn man; a wretched shed for his resting place; his fare so little tempting, he would not yesterday have offered it to a starving mendicant; surrounded by faces which, for

eat.

the sympathy he would have implored, struck hopelessness down into the very bottom of his heart as he did but look upon them; a. traveller on a dreary, dreary journey, which when ended no tongue should say him "welcome;" nor should his soul rejoice as he should utter "here will be my dwelling!" Siberia ! In that one word seemed to him to be concentrated all of human suffering; and as he wildly paced the mud floor of the comfortless apartment, no sound escaped his lips, save only Siberia-Siberia !

That extremes meet is somewhat a trite observation. A trifling incident converted the agony of despair-and such was poor Frogere's into a paroxysm of joy. The officer who commanded the escort entered the hovel, attended by an estaffette. Frogere had not seen him since he got into the carriage on the previous night, nor was he aware that he had accompanied him so far on the journey. He was the only person of the whole number the unfortunate man was acquainted with, and the appearance of a familiar face was to him in his present unhappy situation a source of happiness unutterable. He was about to rush into the arms of his quondam friend, but a slight movement of the hand, and a look of withering sternness, sufficiently convinced him that such a demonstration of friendship was not very cordially desired by the other party. He prepared to speak, but a finger on the lip constrained him to silence. The officer went towards the light, and sealed a packet which he held in his hand; and having delivered it to the estaffette, to whom he enjoined the utmost possible speed, he ordered the guard to post themselves outside the door. Being left alone with his prisoner, and having again made a sign of silence, "Frogere," said he, in an under voice, "Frogere, here we part; the officer who will take charge of you to the next station is in attendance. Tell me what can I—— And yet I hardly dare; the emperor's commands are not to be disobeyed with impunity; and should it be discovered that I--No matter; to serve an old friend I will run the hazard of my disobedience. Tell me, then, what can I do for you on my return to Moscow."

The luckless Frogere burst into tears, and instead of replying directly to the friendly inquiry, he indulged in wild exclamations on the severity of the punishment for a crime the nature of which he had yet to learn.

His companion looked at him with amazement. "Yet to learn! Are you mad, Frogere? Surely you are; and you must have been (as we all thought you) mad last night, or you never would have ventured that bitter sarcasm"-and he added in a still lower voice"the more keenly felt as it was not altogether destitute of truth." "Good Heavens! and is it for a trifle like that that I am to be"