EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES

Montjoy. The Constable of France.

King Henry. I pray thee, bear my former answer back:
Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones,
Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus?
The man that once did sell the lion’s skin
While the beast lived, was kill’d with hunting him.
* * * * * * * * *
Let me speak proudly: tell the constable
We are but warriors for the working-day;
Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch’d
With rainy marching in the painful field;
There’s not a piece of feather in our host--
Good argument, I hope, we will not fly--
And time hath worn us into slovenry:
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;
And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night
They’ll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
The gay new costs o’er the French soldiers’ heads,
And turn them out of service. If they do this,
As, if God please, they shall, my ransom then
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour:
Come thon no more for ransom, gentle herald:
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints;
Which if they have as I will leave ‘em them,
Shall yield them little, tell the constable.
Montjoy. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
[MOSTJOY gon, and KING HENRY, looking after
kim, says:]
I fear thou’ll once more come again for ransom.
 HENRY V AT AGINCOURT
[The battle takes place, and once more, as KING HENRY foretold, Moxrsoy
enters]
Exeter. Here comes the herald of the French, my
liege.
Gloucester. His eyes are humbler than they used to be.
King Henry. How now! what means this, herald?
Know’st thou not
That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom?
Comest thou again for ransom?
Montjoy. No, great king:
I come to thee for charitable license,
That we may wander o’er this bloody field
To look our dead, and then to bury them;
To sort our nobles from our commonment
For many of our princes, woe the while!
Lir drown’d and soak’d in mercenary blood:
So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
In blood of princes; and their wounded steeds
Fret fetlock deep in gore, and with wild rage
Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,
Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great king,
To view the field in safcty and dispose
Of their dead bodies!
King Henry. I tell thee truly, herald,
I know not if the day be ours or no;
For yet a many of your horsemen peer
And gallop o’er the field.
Montjoy. The day is yours.
King Henry. Praised be God, and not our strength,
for it!
What is this castle call’d that stands hard by? Montjoy. They call it
Agincourt.
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
King Henry. Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, King Henry V
EXERCISES
(A) THE USE OF WORDS
Make the necessary corrections in the following sentences:

(i) None fight so well as them that have a good leader.

(ii) The French were brave, but the English were even
braver than them.
(iii) It was you that asked for more soldiers, not me.
(iv) Who is the credit for this splendid fight to be given to?
(v) Would that you and me alone could fight this royal
battle.
(vi) Whom would you rather be: Henry or the Constable of France?
(B) SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS
Note the contrast in the following pairs of sentences, and then
join them suitably:
(I) Henry was hard pressed by the enemy. He did not want help.
(ii) The French herald threatened the king. He did not flinch.
(iii) I care not for things of outward show. I do covet honour.
(iv) Gentlemen in England now a-bed shall feel sorry they were not
here. We shall be glad that we had a share in this fight.
(v) The French are well prepared for battle. We are ready
for them.
(vi) A man hunted a lion thinking to secure his skin. He was killed by
the beast which he hunted.
 HENRY V AT AGINCOURT
(C) PUNCTUATION
In the following passage too many commas are used. Rewrite, omitting
those which you consider unnecessary.
A French chronicler, named Monstrelet, says, that, close of the day,
Isambart, a man, who lived in the village of Agincourt, led some peasants in
an attack, upon the baggage of the English army, which, in the excitement,
and stress on the battle, was almost unprotected. In this way, the party had
little difficulty, in carrying off much valuable booty, including the English
crown, which was taken to Paris. There it caused great rejoicings, among
the French, who, fondly regarded it as an omen that the king himself would
be captured. But the theft, daring as it was, did the French more harm than
good, for Henry, seeing the movement, and, thinking it was a formidable
attack upon his rear, ordered that, all the prisoners should be slain.
Isambart was, rightly, considered to be the cause of this massacre, and the
wretched man, fearful of his fate, tried to buy pardon, by offering the Duke
of Burgundy, Henry's sword, the hilt of which, was studded with diamonds.
It was all in vain, however, for he was thrown into prison.

(D) THE CHOICE OF WORDS

In poetry words are often put in an order which is different from that of
ordinary speech. Note the following sentences, and rewrite them in the
usual prose order:
(i) Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost.
(ii) Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
(iii) These wounds had I on Crispin’s day.
(iv) Then shall our names be in their flowing cups freshly
remembered.
(v) I come to know if for thy ransom thou wilt now com pound.
(vi) This day shall ne’er go by but we in it shall be remembered.
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
(E) ADDITIONAL EXERCISES
(i) Why did Henry V rebuke the Earl of Westmoreland? Do you
consider the rebuke was deserved?
(ii) What weapons were in use at the battle of Agincount? Describe
them and contrast with those used in modern warfare.
(iii) Locate the scene of the battle with the help of your atlas, and
draw a sketch-map of the surrounding country.
(Iv) Shakespeare represents Henry V as being a most brave and
noble king. Suppose some one said that he would have been braver and
more noble if he had remained in his own country and minded his own
business, what answer would you give?
(v) What did the French herald think of the ordinary soldier? How
did Henry regard him? Say what effect you think this might have had upon
the battle.
(vi) The kind of poetry in which this extract is written is known as
‘blank verse.’ What great difference can you notice between it and The Pied
Piper of Hamelin?
 V
GETTING UP ON COLD MORNINGS
AN Italian author-Giulio Cordara, a Jesuit-has written a poem upon
insects, which he begins by insisting, that those troublesome and
abominable little animals were created for our annoyance, and that they
were certainly not inhabitants of Paradise. We of the north may dispute
this piece of theology; but on the other hand, it is as clear as the snow on
the housetops, that Adam was not under the necessity of shaving; and that
when Eve walked out of her delicious bower, she did not step upon ice
three inches thick.
Some people say it is a very easy thing to get up of a cold morning. You
have only, they tell you, to take the resolution; and the thing is done. This
may be very true; just as a boy at school has only to take a flogging, and the
thing is over. But we have not at all made up our minds upon it; and we find
it a very pleasant exercise to discuss the matter, candidly, before we get up.
This, at least, is not idling, though it may be lying. It affords an excellent
answer to those who ask how lying in bed can be indulged in by a
reasoning being,-a rational creature. How? Why, with the argument calmly
at work in one's head, and the clothes over one’s shoulder. Oh--it is a fine
way of spending a sensible, impartial half-hour.
If these people would be more charitable they would get on with their
argument better. But they are apt to reason so ill, and to assert so
dogmatically, that one could wish to have them stand round one’s bed, of a
bitter morning, and lie before their faces. They ought to hear both sides of
the bed, the inside and out. If they cannot entertain themselves with their
own thoughts for half-an-hour or so, it is not the fault of those who can.
Candid inquiries into one’s decumbency, besides the greater or less
privileges to be allowed a man in proportion to his ability of keeping early
hours, the work given his faculties, etc., will at least concede their due
merits to such representations as the following. In the first place, says the
injured but calm appealer, I have been warm all night, and find my system
in a state perfectly suitable to a warm-blooded animal. To get out of this
state into the cold, besides the inharmonious and un critical abruptness of
the transition, is so unnatural to such a creature, that the poets, refining
upon the tortures of the damned, make one of their greatest agonies consist
in being suddenly ransported from heat to cold,-from fire to ice. They ar
“haled” out of their “beds,” says Milton, by “harpy-footed furies,”--fellows
who come to call them. On my first movement towards the anticipation of
getting up I find that such parts of the sheets and bolster as are exposed to
the air of the room are stone cold. On opening my eyes, the first thing that
meets them is my own breath rolling forth, as if in the open air, like smoke
out of a chimney. Think of this symptom. Then I turn my eyes sideways and
see the window all frozen over. Think of that. Then the servant comes in. “It
is very cold this morning, is it not?”-“Very cold, sir.”—"Very cold indeed,
isn’t it?”-“Very cold indeed, sir.”-“More than usually so, isn’t it, even for this
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
weather?” (Here the servant’s wit and good-nature are put to a
considerable test, and the inquirer lies on thorns for the answer.) “Why,
sir... I think it is.” (Good creature! There is not a better or more truth-telling
servant going.) “I must rise, however-get me some warm water.” Here
comes a fine interval between the departure of the servant and the arrival
of the hot water; during which, of course, it is of “no use” to get up. The hot
water comes. “Is it quite hot?” “Yes, sir.” “Perhaps too hot for shaving: I
must wait a little?” “No, sir; it will just do.” (There is an over-nice pro priety
sometimes, an officious zeal of virtue, a little troublesome.) “Oh-the shirt-
you must air my clean shirt; linen gets very damp this weather.” “Yes, sir.”
Here another delicious five minutes. A knock at the door. “Oh, the shirt-very
well. My stockings-I think the stockings had better be aired too.”-“Very
well, sir.” Here another interval. At length everything is ready except
myself. I now cannot help thinking a good deal -who can?-upon the
unnecessary and villainous custom of shaving: it is a thing so unmanly
(here I nestle closer) -so effeminate (here I recoil from an unlucky step into
the colder part of the bed). Think of the razor itself-how totally opposed to
every sensation of bed how cold, how edgy, how hard! how utterly different
from anything like the warm and circling amplitude, which
Sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.
Add to this, benumbed fingers, which may help you to cut yourself, a
quivering body, a frozen towel, and a ewer full of ice; and he that says there
is nothing to oppose in all this, only shows that he has no merit in opposing
it.
Thomson the poet, who exclaims in his “Seasons”—
Falsely luxurious! Will not man awake?
used to lie in bed till noon, because he said he had no motive in getting up.
He could imagine the good of rising; but then he could also imagine the
good of lying still; and his exclamation, it must be allowed, was made upon
summer-time, not winter. We must proportion the argument to the
individual character. A money-getter may be drawn out of his bed by three
or four pence; but this will not suffice for a student. A proud man may say,
“What shall I think of myself, if I don't get up?” but the more humble one
will be content to waive this pro digious notion of himself, out of respect to
his kindly bed. The mechanical man shall get up without any ado at all; and
so shall the barometer. An ingeniouslier in bed will find hard matter of
discussion even on the score of health and longevity. He will ask us for our
proofs and pre cedents of the ill effects of lying later in cold weather; and
sophisticate much on the advantages of an even temperature of body; of the
natural propensity (pretty universal) to have one’s way; and of the animals
 GETTING UP ON COLD MORNINGS
that roll themselves up and sleep all the winter. As to longevity, he will ask
whether the longest is of necessity the best; and whether Holborn is the
handsomest street in London.
LEIGH HUNT
EXERCISES
(A) THE USE OF WORDS
Take each of the following words in turn, and find as many other words
as you can which express the same, or nearly the same idea:
(E.g., Flogging: punishment.)
Annoyance; argument; merits; abruptness; symptom; tortures; interval;
custom; sensation; propensity.
(B) SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS
Combine the following pairs of sentences without using and or but :
(i ) We live in the north. We may dispute this piece of theology.
(ii) The razor is opposed to every sensation of bed. It is edgy and hard.
(iii) My fingers are benumbed. They may help me to cut myself.
(iv) Thomson used to lie in bed till noon. He had no motive in getting
up.
(v) It is a fine way of spending a sensible half-hour. It is a fine way of
spending an impartial half-hour.
(vi) They are haled out of bed by harpy-footed furies. These are
fellows who come to call them in the morning.

(C) PUNCTUATION
Insert the necessary full stops and commas in the following passage:
Leigh Hunt the writer of the essay entitled getting up on cold
mornings was imprisoned for two years for attacking the government in a
weekly paper named the examiner the two years of prison life however
were not altogether unpleasant as Leigh Hunt was given more liberty than
prisoners are usually allowed he had the use of two rooms which he
furnished tastefully surrounding himself with books and flowers both of
which he adored then in the yard outside he was allowed to make a garden
with flower-beds and a grass-plot and the care of this afforded him great
delight.
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
(D) THE CHOICE OF WORDS
Rewrite the following passages, altering them so as to avoid awkward
repetitions:
(i) An Italian author has written a poem upon insects. He begins this
poem by saying that insects were created for our annoyance
(ii) I have been warm all night, and I find my system in a state suitable
to a warm-blooded animal, and I certainly do notwant to get up.
(iii) My breath rolls forth like smoke. Think of this symp tom. The
window is all frozen over. Think of that symptom.
(iv) A money-getter may be drawn out of his bed by three or four
pence; but a student will not be drawn out of his bedby three or four pence.
(v) How cold, and how hard, and how edgy is the razor! (vi) They
ought to hear both sides of the bed; they ought to hear the inside and out.

(E) ADDITIONAL EXERCISES

(i) Notice carefully the beginning of the essay. Apparently it has nothing
whatever to do with the subject. As we read it, we wonder what connexion
there can possibly be between a poem on insects and getting up. We are
curious; we become interested; and we read on-which is just what the
author wants us to do. It would be well to imitate him in this respect, and to
take especial care to make the beginning of your essays arrestive. Write an
essay on “Going to Bed in the Dark,” introducing the subject in as
interesting a way as possible.
(ii) Study carefully the use of the semicolon in the following sentence;
then frame a similar sentence yourself:
He will ask us for our proofs of the ill effects of lying later in cold
weather; and sophisticate much on the advantages of and even
temperature of body; and of the animals that roll themselves up,
and sleep all the winter.
(iii) Say what you think would happen if you always had your own way.
(iv) What name is applied to "animals that roll themselves up, and sleep
all the winter"? Give the names of any such animals you know, and find out
all you can about their habits.
 GETTING UP ON COLD MORNINGS
(v) Give your honest opinion of washing in cold water on cold mornings.
(vi) Which is the most handsome street you have ever seen? Give
reasons for your choice.
 VI
FOUR POEMS

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS

KING FRANCIS was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport, And one day as
his lions fought, sat looking on the court;
The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their pride,
And ‘mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sighed:
And truly ‘twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show, Valour and love,
and a king above, and the royal beasts below.
Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws; They bit, they
glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;
With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another,
Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air;
Said Francis then, “Faith, gentlemen, we’re better here than there.”
De Lorge’s love o’erheard the King, a beauteous lively dame With smiling
lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed the same;
She thought, the Count my lover is brave as brave can be; He surely would
do wondrous things to show his love of me;
Kings, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;
I’ll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine.

She dropped her glove, to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;
He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild: The leap was
quick, return was quick, he has regained his place,
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady’s face.
“By Heaven!” said Francis, “rightly done!” and he rose from where he sat:
“No love,” quoth he, “but vanity, sets love a task like that.”
LEIGH HUNT
 FOUR POEMS
ABOU BEN ADHEM

ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
“What writest thou?”-The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, “The names of those who love the Lord.”
“And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,
“ Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,”

But cheerly still; and said, “I pray thee then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.”
The angel wrote and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.
LEIGH HUNT

JAFFAR
JAFFAR, the Barmecide, the good Vizier,
The poor man’s hope, the friend without a peer,
Jaffar was dead, slain by a doom unjust;
And guilty Haroun, sullen with mistrust
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
Of what the good and e’en the bad might say,
Ordained that no man living from that day
Should dare to speak his name on pain of death.
All Araby and Persia held their breath.

All but the brave Mondeer.--He, proud to show

How far for love a grateful soul could go,
And facing death for very scorn and grief,
(For his great heart wanted a great relief),
Stood forth in Bagdad, daily in the square
Where once had stood a happy house, and there
Harangued the tremblers at the seymitar,
On all they owed to the divine Jaffar.

“Bring me this man,” the caliph cried. The man

Was brought-was gazed upon. The mutes began
To bind his arms. “Welcome, brave cords,” cried he;
“From bonds far worse Jaffar delivered me;
From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears;
Made a man’s eyes friends with delicious tears;
Restored me, loved me, put me on a par
With his great self. How can I pay Jaffar?”

Haroun, who felt that on a soul like this

The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss,
Now deigned to smile, as one great lord of fate
Might smile upon another half as great.
He said, “Let worth grow frenzied, if it will;
The caliph’s judgment shall be master still.
 FOUR POEMS
Go: and since gifts so move thee, take this gem,
The richest in the Tartar’s diadem,
And hold the giver as thou deemest fit."

“Gifts!” cried the friend. He took; and holding it

High towards the heavens, as though to meet his star,
Exclaimed, “This too I owe to thee, Jaffar.”
LEIGH HUNT
THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET
[ON a December day in 1816 Leigh Hunt suggested to his friend and
brother-poet, John Keats, that they should both write, “then, there, and to
time,” a sonnet on the Grasshopper and the Cricket. The following are the
poems that they wrote.]
I
GREEN little vaulter in the sunny grass,
Catching your heart up at the feel of June,
Sole voice that’s heard amidst the lazy noon,
When even the bees lag at the summoning brass;

And you, warm little housekeeper, who class

With those who think the candles come too soon,
Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune
Nick the glad, silent moments as they pass;
Oh sweet and tiny cousins, that belong,
One to the fields, the other to the hearth,
Both have your sunshine; both, though small, are strong
At your clear hearts; and both seem given to earth
To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song
Indoors and out, summer and winter, Mirth.
LEIGH HUNT
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
II
THE poetry of earth is never dead :
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead:
That is the grasshopper’s-he takes the lead
In summer luxury, he has never done
With his delights, for when tired out with fun,
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the hearth there shrills
The cricket’s song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems, to one in drowsiness half lost,
The grasshopper’s among some grassy hills.

JOHN KEATS

EXERCISES
(4) THE USE OF WORDS
Without changing the sense, substitute other words for those printed in
italics:

(i) The occasion is divine.

(ii) The presence in the room.
(iii) Sullen with mistrust.
(iv) Harangued the tremblers.
(v) Green little vaulter.
(vi) The summoning brass.
 FOUR POEMS

(B) SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS

Combine and group these sentences so as to form a flowing piece of
composition.
The grasshopper rejoices in the sultry days of June. He jumps about
in the grass. His is the only voice we hear in the heat of midday.
Then even the bees are languid. The cricket loves the fire. He hates to
see the candles come. His cheerful tune marks those happy
moments spent round the fire. One belongs to the fields. The
other belongs to the hearth. Both are full of sunshine. Both bring us
a message of Joy.

(C) PUNCTUATION
Arrange in poetical form and punctuate:
Jaffar the Barmecide the good Vizier the poor man’s hope the
friend without a peer Jaffar was dead slain by a doom unjust and
guilty Haroun sullen with mistrust of what the good and e’en the
bad might say ordained that no man living from that day should dare
to speak his name on pain of death all Araby and Persia held their breath.

(D) THE CHOICE OF WORDS

Study carefully the rhythm of the following lines. Mark the accented
syllables as in this example:
/ / / / /
And hold | the giv | er as| thou deem | est fit
(i) He said, “Let worth grow frenzied, if it will;
The caliph’s judgment shall be master still.”
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
Mr Winkle did entertain considerable misgivings in the very lowest
recesses of his own heart, relative to his equestrian skill; but, as he would
not have them even suspected on any account, he at once replied with
great hardihood, “Certainly. I should enjoy it, of all things.”
Mr Winkle had rushed upon his fate; there was no resource. “Let them be
at the door by eleven,” said Mr Pickwick.
“Very well, sir,” replied the waiter.
The waiter retired; the breakfast concluded; and the travellers
ascended to their respective bedrooms, to pre pare a change of clothing, to
take with them on their approaching expedition.
 AN EQUESTRIAN ADVENTURE
“Warrant him quiet, sir; a hinfant in arms might drive him.”
“He don’t shy, does he?” inquired Mr Pickwick.
“Shy, sir?-He wouldn’t shy if he was to meet a vaggin-load of monkeys
with their tails burnt off.”
The last recommendation was indisputable. Mr Tup man and Mr
Snodgrass got into the bin; Mr Pickwick ascended to his perch, and
deposited his feet on a floor clothed shelf, erected beneath it for that
purpose.
“Now, shiny Villiam,” said the hostler to the deputy hostler, “give the
gen’lm’n the ribbins.” “Shiny Villiam” so called, probably, from his sleek
hair and oily countenance-placed the reins in Mr Pickwick’s left hand; and
the upper hostler thrust a whip into his right.
“Wo-o!” cried Mr Pickwick, as the tall quadruped evinced a decided
inclination to back into the coffee-room window.
“Wo-o!” echoed Mr Tupman and Mr Snodgrass from the bin.
“Only his playfulness, gen’lm’n,” said the head hostler encouragingly;
“just kitch hold on him, Villiam.” The deputy restrained the animal’s
impetuosity, and the principal ran to assist Mr Winkle in mounting.
“Tother side, sir, if you please.”
“Blowed if the gen’lm’n worn’t a getting’ up on the wrong side,”
whispered a grinning post-boy to the in expressibly gratified waiter.
Mr Winkle, thus instructed, climbed into his saddle, with about as much
difficulty as he would have ex perienced in getting up the side of a first-rate
man-of-war.
“All right?” inquired Mr Pickwick, with an inward presentiment that it
was all wrong.
“All right,” replied Mr Winkle faintly.
“Let ‘em go,” cried the hostler,-“Hold him in, sir,” and away went the
chaise, and the saddle-horse, with Mr Pickwick on the box of the one, and
Mr Winkle on the back of the other, to the delight and gratification of the
whole inn-yard.
“What makes him go sideways?” said Mr Snodgrass in the bin, to Mr
Winkle in the saddle.
“I can't imagine,” replied Mr Winkle. His horse was drifting up the street
in the most mysterious manner side first, with his head towards one side of
the way, and his tail towards the other.
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
Mr Pickwick had no leisure to observe either this or any other particular,
the whole of his faculties being concentrated in the management of the
animal attached to the chaise, who displayed various peculiarities, highly
interesting to a bystander, but by no means equally amusing to anyone
seated behind him. Besides con stantly jerking his head up, in a very
unpleasant and uncomfortable manner, and tugging at the reins to an
extent which rendered it a matter of great difficulty for Mr Pickwick to hold
them, he had a singular propensity for darting suddenly every now and
then to the side of the road, then stopping short, and then rushing forward
for some minutes, at a speed which it was wholly im possible to control.
“What can he mean by this?” said Mr Snodgrass, when the horse had
executed this manoeuvre for the twentieth time.
“I don't know,” replied Mr Tupman; “it looks very like shying, don’t it?”
Mr Snodgrass was about to reply, when he was interrupted by a shout from
Mr Pickwick.
“Woo!” said that gentleman; “I have dropped my whip.”
“Winkle,” said Mr Snodgrass, as the equestrian came trotting up on the tall
horse, with his hat over his ears, and shaking all over, as if he would shake
to pieces, with the violence of the exercise, “pick up the whip, there’s a good
fellow.”
Mr Winkle pulled at the bridle of the tall horse till he was black in the
face; and having at length succeeded in stopping him, dismounted, handed
the whip to Mr Pickwick, and grasping the reins, prepared to remount.
Now whether the tall horse, in the natural playfulness of his disposition,
was desirous of having a little innocent recreation with Mr Winkle, or
whether it occurred to him that he could perform the journey as much to
his own satisfaction without a rider as with one, are points upon which, of
course, we can arrive at no definite and distinct conclusion. By whatever
motives the animal was actuated, certain it is that Mr Winkle had no sooner
touched the reins, than he slipped them over his head, and darted
backwards to their full length.
“Poor fellow,” said Mr Winkle soothingly,-“poor fellow-good old horse.”
The "poor fellow” was proof against flattery: the more Mr Winkle tried to
get near him, the more he sidled away; and, notwithstanding all kinds of
coaxing and wheedling, there were Mr Winkle and the horse going round
and round each other for ten minutes, at the end of which time each was at
precisely the same distance from the other as when they first commenced-
an unsatisfactory state of things under any circumstances, but particularly
so in a lonely road, where no assistance can be procured.
 AN EQUESTRIAN ADVENTURE
“What am I to do?” shouted Mr Winkle, after the dodging had been
prolonged for a considerable time. “What am I to do? I can't get on him.”
(B) SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS
Make sentences using the following phrases:
(i) considerable misgivings; (ii) approaching expedition;
(iii) inexpressibly gratified; (iv) inward presentiment;
(v) various peculiarities; (vi) executed this manœuvre.
(C) PUNCTUATION
Change into indirect speech:
(i) “I don't know,” said Mr Tupman.
(ii) “I have dropped my whip,” said that gentleman.
(iii) “What am I to do?” shouted Mr Winkle.
(iv) “We want to put this horse up here,” said Mr Pickwick.
(v) “It got us into trouble last time,” said the woman.
(vi) “Do you think we stole this horse?” said the ungry Mr Pickwick.
(D) THE CHOICE OF WORDS
Dickens frequently added to the humour of his writing by giving simple
things long names; a ‘horse,’ for instance, is a quadruped.” Notice these
examples, and rewrite them as briefly and simply as you can.
(i) Mr Winkle did entertain considerable misgivings in the
very lowest recesses of his own heart, relative to his equestrian skill.
(ii) Mr Pickwick had made his preliminary arrangements.
(iii) It was a curious little green box, drawn by an immense
brown horse, displaying great symmetry of bone.
(iv) The tall quadruped evinced a decided inclination to back into
the coffee-room window.
(v) He exchanged the rotatory motion in which he had
previously indulged, for a retrograde motion.
(vi) Mr Pickwick ascended to his perch, and deposited his feet upon
a floor-clothed shelf.
 AN EQUESTRIAN ADVENTURE
(E) ADDITIONAL EXERCISES
(i) Read carefully Dickens's description of the four-wheeled chaise, and
draw a sketch of it..
(ii) You look upon this as a funny incident, but what do you suppose Mr
Winkle thought of it? Write My Ride to Dingley Dell,’ as told by Nathaniel
Winkle.”
(iii) Write in a few lines (a) the thoughts of one tall horse as he trotted
home to Rochester, (b) the thoughts of the other tall horse as he was led to
Dingley Dell.
(iv) After reading Mr Winkle’s painful experiences, compile a set of rules
for those about to get on horseback for the first time.
(v) It is said that Mr Winkle “climbed into his saddle, with about as much
difficulty as he would have experienced in getting up the side of a first-rate
man-of-war.” Compile a list of four other feats which you consider Mr
Winkle would have found equally difficult.
(vi) Write a brief summary of the whole extract under these headings: (i)
The Departure; (ii) The Journey; (iii) The Catas trophe.
 VII
MORTE D'ARTHUR
So all day long the noise of battle roll’d
Among the mountains by the winter sea;
Until King Arthun’s table, man by man,
Had fall’n in Lyonnesse about their Lord,
King Arthur: then, because his wound was deep,
The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him,
Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights,
And bore him to a chapel nigh the field,
A broken chancel with a broken cross,
That stood on a dark strait of barren land.
On one side lay the Ocean, and on one
Lay a great water, and the moon was full.
Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere:
“The sequel of to-day unsolders all
The goodliest fellowship of famous knights
Where of this world holds record. Such a sleep
They sleep-the men I loved. I think that we
Shall never more, at any future time,
Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds,
Walking about the gardens and the halls
Of Camelot, as in the days that were.
I perish by this people which I made,
Tho’ Merlin sware that I should come again
To rule once more-but let what will be, be,
I am so deeply smitten thro’ the helm
That without help I cannot last till morn.
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur,
Which was my pride: for thou rememberest how
In those old days, one summer noon, an arm
Rose up from out the bosom of the lake,
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
Holding the sword and how I row’d across
And took it, and have worn it, like a king:
And, wheresoever I am sung or told
In aftertime, this also shall be known:
But now delay not: take Excalibur,
And fling him far into the middle mere:
Watch what thou seest, and lightly bring me word.”
To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere:
“It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus,
Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm.
A little thing may harm a wounded man.
Yet I thy hest will all perform at full,
Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word.”
So saying, from the ruin’d shrine he stept
And in the moon athwart the place of tombs,
Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men,
Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang
Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down
By zig-zag paths, and juts of pointed rock,
Came on the shining levels of the lake.
There drew he forth the brand Excalibur,
And o’er him, drawing it, the winter moon,
Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth
And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt:
 MORTE D'ARTHUR
For all the halt twinkled with diamond sparks,
Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth work
Of subtlest jewellery. He gazed so long
That both his eyes were dazzled, as he stood,
This way and that dividing the swift mind,
In act to throw: But at the last it seem’d
Better to leave Excalibur conceal’d
There in the many-knotted waterflags,
That whistled stiff and dry about the marge.
So strode he back slow to the wounded King.
Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere:
“Hast thou performed my mission which I gave?
What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?”
And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere:
“I heard the ripple washing in the reeds,
And the wild water lapping on the crag.”
To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale:
“Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name,
Not rendering true answer, as beseem’d
Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight:
For surer sign had follow’d, either hand,
Or voice, or else a motion of the mere.
This is a shameful thing for men to lie.
Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again
As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing
I bad thee, watch, and lightly bring me word.”
Then went Sir Bedivere the second time
Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere,
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
Counting the dewy pebbles, fix’d in thought;
But when he saw the wonder of the hilt,
How curiously and strangely chased, he smote
His palms together, and he cried aloud.
“And if indeed I cast the brand away,
Surely a precious thing, one worthy note,
Should thus be lost for ever from the earth,
Which might have pleased the eyes of many men.
What good should follow this, if this were done?
What harm, undone? deep harm to disobey,
Seeing obedience is the bond of rule.
Were it well to obey then, if a king demand
An act unprofitable, against himself?
The King is sick, and knows not what he does.
What record, or what relie of my lord
Should be to aftertime, but empty breath
And rumours of a doubt? but were this kept,
Stored in some treasure house of mighty kings,
Some one might show it at a joust of arms,
Saying, ‘King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur,
Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake.
Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps
Upon the hidden bases of the hills.’
So might some old man speak in the aftertime
To all the people, winning reverence.
But now much honour and much fame were lost.”
So spake he, clouded with his own conceit,
And hid Excalibur the second time.
 MORTE D'ARTHUR
And so strode back slow to the wounded King.
Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily:
“What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?’
And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere:
“I heard the water lapping on the crag,
And the long ripple washing in the reeds.”
To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath:
“Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue,
Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me!
Authority forgets a dying king,
Laid widow’d of the power in his eye
That bow’d the will. I see thee what thou art,
For thou, the latest-left of all my knights,
In whom should meet the offices of all,
Thou would’st betray me for the precious hilt;
Either from lust of gold, or like a girl
Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes.
Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice,
And the third time may prosper, get thee hence
But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur,
I will arise and slay thee with my hands.”
Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran
And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged
Among the bulrush-beds, and clutch’d the sword,
And strongly wheel’d and threw it. The great brand
Made lightnings in the splendour of the moon,
And flashing round and round, and whirl’d in an arch,
Shot like a streamer of the northern morn,
Seen where the moving isles of winter shock
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
By night, with noises of the northern sea.
So flash’d and fell the brand Excalibur:
But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
And caught him by the hilt, and brandish’d him
Three times, and drew him under in the mere.
And lightly went the other to the King.
Then spake King Arthur, drawing thicker breath:
“Now see I by thine eyes that this is done.
Speak out: what is it thou hast heard, or seen?”
“Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems
Should blind my purpose, for I never saw,
Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die,
Not tho’ I live three lives of mortal men,
So great a miracle as yonder hilt.
Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him:
But when I look’d again, behold an arm
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
That caught him by the hilt, and brandish’d him
Three times, and drew him under in the mere."
And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard:
“My end draws nigh; ‘tis time that I were gone.
Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight,
And bear me to the margin; yet I fear
My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die.”
So saying, from the pavement he half rose,
Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm,
And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes
As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere
 MORTE D'ARTHUR
Remorsefully regarded thro’ his tears,
And would have spoken, but he found not words,
Then took with care, and kneeling on one knee,
O’er both his shoulders drew the languid hands,
And rising bore him thro’ the place of tombs.
But, as he walk’d, King Arthur panted hard,
Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed
When all the house is mute. So sigh’d the King,
Muttering and murmuring at his car “Quick, quick!
I fear it is too late, and I shall die.”
But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge,
Clothed with his breath, and looking as he walk’d,
Larger than human on the frozen hills.
He heard the deep behind him, and a cry
Before. His own thought drove him like a gond.
Dry clash’d his harness in the icy caves
And barren chasms, and all to left and right
The bare black cliff clang’d round him, as he based
His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang
Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels
And on a sudden, lo! the level lake,
And the long glories of the winter moon.
But now farewell. I am going a long way
With these thou seest—if indeed I go—
(For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)
To the island-valley of Avilion;
Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies
Deep-meadow’d, happy, fair with orchard-lawns.
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
And bowery hollows crown’d with summer sea,
Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.”
So said he, and the barge with oar and sail
Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood
With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere
Revolving many memories, till the hull
Looked one black dot against the verge of dawn,
And on the mere the wailing died away.
LORD TENNYSON
EXERCISES
(A) THE USE OF WORDS
Correct mistakes in the following sentences:
(i) Arthur had seen his knights go one by one, and Sir
Bedivere was the last of any.
(ii) The goodliest of any fellowship of famous knights that ever
existed was unsoldered.
(iii) It was the subtlest of any jewellery ever seen in a swordhandle.
(iv) Although Arthur was severely wounded and weak in body,
Sir Bedivere was the weakest in mind.
(v) Excalibur was more wonderful than all swords.
(vi) There were three queens in the barge, and the taller and fairer
of them called Arthur by name.
(B) SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS
Join the following sentences by using relative pronouns:
(i ) Arthur writhed in pain. He said that he perished by the people
he had made.
 MORTE D'ARTHUR
(ii) Sir Bedivere was the last of Arthur’s knights. He flung
Excalibur into the middle mere.
(iii) But first Bedivere tried to hide it. He thought it was a shame
to throw away so fine a sword.
(iv) Arthur hated all deceit. He reproached Bedivere bitterly,
(v) There was an arm clothed in white samite. It caught Excalibur
by the hilt.
(vi) The knight was overcome with grief. He bore his precious load
to the margin of the lake.
(C) PUNCTUATION
Make a distinction between possessives and plurals by inserting
apostrophes wherever they are required in the following sentences:

(i) Of all the swords that Sir Bedivere had ever handled there
was none so grand as Arthurs.
(ii) The Round Table was dissolved: the knights places were vacant.
(iii) Sir Bediveres eyes were dazzled.
(iv) He made up his mind to disregard the kings whims.
(v) Excalibur was a lonely maidens work. She wrought it
nine years as she sat in the deeps upon the hidden bases of the hills.
(D) THE CHOICE OF WORDS
It will be noticed that some poetry requires to be said quickly, while
other poetry loses all its beauty and all its meaning unless said slowly.
There are examples of both in this poem. You cannot read this passage
slowly:
Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran
And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged
Among the bulrush-beds, and clutce’d the sword,
And strongly wheel’d and threw it.
 MORTE D'ARTHUR
Neither can you read this quickly:
Long stood Sir Bedivere
Revolving many memories, till the hull
Looked one black dot against the verge of dawn,
And on the mere the wailing died away.
Find two similar examples, one of ‘fast time,’ and the other of
slow time,’ and notice in each case how well the time suits the
meaning.

(E) ADDITIONAL EXERCISES

(i) What are “greaves and cuisses”? Get a picture showing a
knight in armour and make a sketch from it.
(ii) Notice how appropriate the hissing sound is in the lines:
The sea-wind sang
Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam.
Try to find a similar instance for yourself in any book of poetry
you have.
(iii) Write a description of the “island-valley of Avilion,” and
say what you imagine happened to Arthur there.
(iv) What were Sir Bedivere’s excuses for disobeying the dying king?
Were they reasonable? What would you have done in Sir Bedivere’s place?
(v) The winter moon,
Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth
And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt.
Describe the scene pictured by the poet as expressively as you can in
your own words.
(vi) “The old order changeth, yielding place to new.” What do
you consider the greatest change that you have seen? Do you
consider it a change for the better?
 IX

SIR ROGER AT CHURCH

I AM always very well pleased with a country Sunday, and think, if
keeping holy the seventh day were only a human institution, it would be
the best method that could have been thought of for the polishing and
civilizing of mankind. It is certain the country people would soon
degenerate into a kind of savages and barbarians, were there not such
frequent returns of a stated time, in which the whole village meet together
with their best faces, and in their cleanliest habits, to converse with one
another upon indifferent subjects, hear their duties ex plained to them, and
join together in adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday clears away the
rust of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in their minds the notions of
religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon appearing in their most
agreeable forms, and exerting all such qualities as are apt to give them a
figure in the eye of the village. A country fellow distinguishes himself as
much in the churchyard, as a citizen does upon the Change, the whole
parish-politics being generally dis cussed in that place either after sermon
or before the bell rings.
My friend Sir Roger, being a good churchman, has beautified the inside of
his church with several texts of his own choosing. He has likewise given a
handsome pulpit cloth, and railed in the communion table at his own
expense. He has often told me, that at his coming to his estate he found his
parishioners very irregular; and that in order to make them kneel and join
in the responses, he gave every one of them a hassock and a common-
prayer book: and at the same time employed an itinerant singing-master,
who goes about the country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly in the
tunes of the psalms; upon which they now very much value themselves,
and indeed outdo most of the country churches that I have ever heard.
As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in
very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for if
by chance he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon
recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees
anybody else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servants to
them. Several other of the old knight’s peculiarities break out upon these
occasions. Sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse in the singing
psalms, half a minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it;
sometimes when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he
pronounces amen three or four times to the same prayer; and sometimes
stands up when everybody else is upon their knees, to count the
congregation, or see if any of his tenants are missing.
 SIR ROGER AT CHURCH

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, in the midst
of the service, calling out to one John Matthews to mind what he was about,
and not disturb the congregation. This John Matthews it seems is re
markable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was kicking his heels for
his diversion. This authority of the knight, though exerted in that odd
manner which accompanies him in all circumstances of life, has a very
 X

THE FORSAKEN MERMAN

COME, dear children, let us away;

Down and away below.
Now my brothers call from the bay;
Now the great winds shorewards blow;
Now the salt tides seawards flow
Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.
Children dear, let us away.
This way, this way.

Call her once before you go.

Call once yet.
In a voice that she will know:
“Margaret! Margaret!”
Children”s voices should be dear
(Call once more) to a mother's ear:
Children’s voices, wild with pain.
Surely she will come again.
Call her once and come away.
This way, this way.
“Mother dear, we cannot stay.
“ The wild white horses foam and fret.
Margaret! Margaret!
Come, dear children, come away down.
Call no more.
One last look at the white-wall'd town,
And the little grey church on the windy shore.
 THE FORSAKEN MERMAN
Then come down.
She will not come though you call all day.
Come away, come away.

Children dear, was it yesterday

We heard the sweet bells over the bay?
In the caverns where we lay,
Through the surf and through the swell,
The far-off sound of a silver bell?
Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,
Where the winds are all asleep;
Where the spent lights quiver and gleam;
Where the salt weed sways in the stream;
Where the sea-beasts ranged all round
Feed in the ooze of their pasture ground;
Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,
Dry their mail and bask in the brine;
Where great whales come sailing by,
Sail and sail, with unshut eye,
Round the world for ever and aye?
When did music come this way?
Children dear, was it yesterday?

Children dear, was it yesterday

(Call yet once) that she went away?
Once she sate with you and me,
On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea,
And the youngest sate on her knee.
She comb’d its bright hair, and she tended it well,
When down swung the sound of the far-off bell.
She sigh’d, she look’d up through the clear green sea.
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
She said: “I must go, for my kinsfolk pray
In the little grey church on the shore to-day.
"Twill be Easter-time in the world-ah me!
And I lose my poor soul, Merman, here with thee.”
I said; “Go up, dear heart, through the waves;
Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves.”
She smil’d, she went up through the surf in the bay.
Children dear, was it yesterday?

Children dear, were we long alone?

“The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.
Long prayers,” I said, “in the world they say.
Come,” I said, and we rose through the surf in the bay.
We went up the beach, by the sandy down
Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-wall’d town.
Through the narrow pay’d streets, where all was still,
To the little grey church on the windy hill.
From the church came a murmur of folk at their
But we stood without in the cold blowing airs. prayers,
We climb’d on the graves, on the stones, worn with rains,
And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes.
She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear:
“Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here.
Dear heart,” I said, “we are long alone.
The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.”
But, ah, she gave me never a look,
For her eyes were seal’d to the holy book.
“Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door.”
Come away, children, call no more.
Come away, come down, call no more.
 THE FORSAKEN MERMAN
Down, down, down.
Down to the depths of the sea.
She sits at her wheel in the humming town,
Singing most joyfully.
Hark what she sings: “O joy, O joy,
For the humming street, and the child with its toy.
For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well.
For the wheel where I spun,
And the blessed light of the sun.”
And so she sings her fill,
Singing most joyfully,
Till the shuttle falls from her hand,
And the whizzing wheel stands still.
She steals to the window, and looks at the sand;
And over the sand at the sen;
And her eyes are set in a stare;
And anon there breaks a sigh,
And anon there drops a tear,
From a sorrow-clouded eye,
And a heart sorrow-laden,
A long, long sigh,
For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden,
And the gleam of her golden hair.

Come away, away, children.

Come, children, come down.
The hoarse wind blows colder;
Lights shine in the town.
She will start from her slumber
When gusts shake the door;
She will hear the winds howling,
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
Will hear the waves roar.
We shall see, while above us
The waves roar and whirl,
A ceiling of amber,
A pavement of pearl.
Singing, “Here came a mortal.
But faithless was she.
And alone dwell for ever
The kings of the sea.”

But, children, at midnight,

When soft the winds blow;
When clear falls the moonlight;
When spring-tides are low:
When sweet airs come sea-ward
From heaths starr’d with broom;
And high rocks throw mildly
On the blanch’d sands a gloom:
Up the still, glistening beaches,
Up the creeks we will hie;
Over banks of bright seaweed
The ebb-tide leaves dry.
We will gaze from the sand-hills,
At the white, sleeping town;
At the church on the hill-side
And then come back down.
Singing, “There dwells a lov’d one,
But cruel is she.
She left lonely for ever
The kings of the sea.”
MATTHEW ARNOLD
 THE FORSAKEN MERMAN
EXERCISES
(A) THE USE OF WORDS
Say whether the verbs in the following sentences are active or passive;
then rewrite, changing active to passive, and vice versa:
(i) The far-off sound of a silver bell was heard by us yester
day.
(ii) My poor soul is lost, merman, here with thee.
(iii) In the world they say long prayers.
(iv) That loved one who dwells in the white town left the kings of the sea.
(v) The children were told by the merman to come away down and call
no more.
(vi) They took one last fond look at the white-walled town.

(B) SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS

Join the following pairs of sentences by using one or other of these
connectives: but, yet, and, for.
(i) The children called long and loud. Their mother did not hear.
(ii) The strong winds howled. The wild waves roared.
(iii) It was growing cold and dark. They were reluctant to go back to the
sea cavern.
(iv) She would not come. She was afraid that she might lose her soul.
(v) The mother was faithless. The children loved her.
(vi) When it is fine we will gaze at the little town. Then we will return.

(C) PUNCTUATION
Arrange in poetical form and punctuate:
Come dear children come away down call no more one last look at the
white walled town and the little grey church on the windy shore then come
down she will not come though you call all day come away come away
children dear was it yester day we heard the sweet bells over the bay in the
caverns where we lay through the surf and through the swell the far off
sound of a silver bell.
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
(D) THE CHOICE OF WORDS
In prose-writing careless repetition is a fault, but in poetry a very
striking effect is often produced by repeating a word or sound. There are
many good instances in this poem-e.g.
Let us away
This way, this way.
Write the stanza which you think contains the best examples, and
underline the repeated words.
(E) ADDITIONAL EXERCISES
(i) In a previous exercise you saw how Browning used allitera tion;
many instances will be found here also. Search out three good examples.
(ii) This poem is full of pathos: the author makes us feel very sorry for
the lonely merman and the children who were bereft of a mother's care.
Think of all the other pathetic stories you have read, whether in poetry or
prose, and write a short account of the saddest of them.
(iii) Write a piece of descriptive prose entitled, "The Merman’s Abode.”
(iv) Children dear, was it yesterday
(Call yet once) that she went away?
Once she sate with you and me,
On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea.
Read these lines to yourself, and mark the accent by beating time. Then
write them out, marking off the feet, and placing a dash ( ) over each
accented syllable.
(v) In the following lines it will be noticed how well the sound suggests
the sense:
Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.
Find a similar example.
(vi) Study carefully the weather descriptions in the poem, and show how
wind and wave provide a suitable setting for the story.
 XI

A DISSERTATION UPON ROAST PIG

MANKIND, says a Chinese manuscript, for the first seventy thousand ages
ate their meat raw, clawing or biting it from the living animal, just as they
do in Abyssinia to this day. The manuscript goes on to say, that the art of
roasting, or rather broiling (which I take to be the elder brother), was
accidentally discovered in the manner following. The swineherd, Ho-ti,
having gone out into the woods one morning, as his manner was, to collect
mast for his hogs, left his cottage in the care of his eldest son Bo-bo, a great
lubberly boy, who being fond of playing with fire, as younkers of his age
commonly are, let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw, which,
kindling quickly, spread the conflagration over every part of their poor
mansion, till it was reduced to ashes. Together with the cottage (a sorry
antediluvian makeshift of a building, you may think it), what was of much
more importance, a fine litter of new-farrowed pigs, no less than nine in
number, perished. China pigs have been esteemed a luxury all over the East
from the remotest periods that we read of. Bo-bo was in utmost
consternation, as you may think, not so much for the sake of the tenement,
which his father and he could easily build up again with a few dry branches,
and the labour of an hour or two, at any time, as for the loss of the pigs.
While he was thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his
hands over the smoking proving upon the good meat which God had sent
them. Nevertheless, strange stories got about. It was observed that Ho-ti’s
cottage was burnt down now more frequently than ever. Nothing but fires
from this time forward. Some would break out in broad day, others in the
night time. As often as the sow farrowed, so sure was the house of Ho-ti to
be in a blaze; and Ho-ti himself, which was the more remarkable, instead of
chastising his son, seemed to grow more indulgent to him than ever. At
length they were watched, the terrible mystery dis covered, and father and
son summoned to take their trial at Pekin, then an inconsiderable assize
town, Evidence was given, the obnoxious food itself produced in court, and
verdict about to be pronounced, when the foreman of the jury begged that
some of the burnt pig, of which the culprits stood accused, might be handed
into the box. He handled it, and they all handled it, and burning their
fingers, as Bo-bo and his father had done before them, and nature
prompting to each of them the same remedy, against the face of all the
facts, and the clearest charge which judge had ever given,-to the surprise of
the whole court, townsfolk, strangers, reporters, and all present without
leaving the box, or any manner of consultation whatever, they brought in a
simultaneous verdict of Not Guilty.
The judge, who was a shrewd fellow, winked at the manifest iniquity of
the decision; and when the court was dismissed, went privily, and bought
up all the pigs that could be had for love or money. In a few days his
 EXTRACTS AND EXERCISES
Lordship’s town house was observed to be on fire. The thing took wing, and
now there was nothing to be seen but fires in every direction. Fuel and pigs
grewe nor mously dear all over the district. The insurance offices one and
all shut up shop. People built slighter and slighter every day, until it was
feared that the very science of architecture would in no long time be lost to
the world. Thus this custom of firing houses continued, till in process of
time, says my manuscript, a sage arose who made a discovery, that the flesh
of swine, or indeed of any other animal, might be cooked (burnt, as they
called it) without the necessity of consuming a whole house to dress it.
Then first began the rude form of a gridiron. Roasting by the string, or spit,
came in a century or two later, I forget in whose dynasty. By such slow
degrees, concludes the manuscript, do the most useful, and seemingly most
obvious arts, make their way among mankind.
Without placing too implicit faith in the account above given, it must be
agreed, that if a worthy pretext for so dangerous an experiment as setting
houses on fire (especially in these days) could be assigned in favour of any
culinary object, that pretext and excuse might be found in ROAST PIG.
CHARLES LAMB
EXERCISES
(A) THE USE OF WORDS
Expand the following sentences by inserting relative clauses, thus:
Charles Lamb, (who wrote this essay), lived in London.
(i) The swine-herd, Ho-ti, ( ), left the cottage in the
care of his eldest son, Bo-bo.
(ii) While he was thinking what he should say, an odour
( ) assailed his nostrils.
(iii) Bo-bo paid no heed to the blows ( ) but continued eating.
(iv) The father and son were summoned to take their trial
at Pekin ( ).
(v) The gentlemen of the jury ( simultaneous verdict of Not Guilty.
(vi) The judge ( ) bought up all the pigs that could
be had for love or money.
 A DISSERTATION UPON ROAST PIG

(B) SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS

As a sentence is the expression of a single thought, it should contain no
more than is necessary to convey that one thought. Rewrite the following
passage, breaking up the sentences where this rule is not obeyed:
The cottage, a poor makeshift of a building, was left in the
charge of Bo-bo, who was extremely fond of playing with fire.
He let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw which kindle
quickly and made such a blaze that their poor mansion was
reduced to ashes together with a fine litter of new-farrowed
pigs, and this was much more important. Bo-bo, wondering
what he should say to his father, was in great trouble over the
loss of the pigs, which was indeed a serious matter, when a
strange odour assailed his nostrils. It was unlike any scent
which he had before experienced, and he knew it did not come
from the burnt cottage. He had smelt that smell before. It
was not the first accident of the kind which had occurred
through his carelessness, and his mouth began to water. He
felt the pig and burnt his fingers. To cool them, he put them
to his mouth and tasted-crackling!

(C) PUNCTUATION
Change into direct speech:
(i) Bo-bo asked his father to come and taste the burnt pig.
(ii) Ho-ti asked his son what he had got there devouring.
(iii) The foreman of the jury said he should like to have some of the
burnt pig.
(iv) Ho-ti told his son not to let the secret escape.
(v) The angry father told the boy that he had already burnt down three
houses.
(vi) The reporter said that it was the oddest verdict he had ever known.
 A DISSERTATION UPON ROAST PIG

(D) THE CHOICE OF WORDS

Charles Lamb in this essay often uses high-sounding phrases in order to
produce a humorous effect. Notice the following ex amples, and rewrite,
expressing the same idea as simply as possible:
(i) His sire entered, armed with retributory cudgel.
(ii) He shouted out, “Only taste-O Lord,”-with such like barbarous
ejaculations.
(iii) A premonitory moistening overflowed his nether lip.
(iv) An odour assailed his nostrils, unlike any scent which he had before
experienced.
(v) The tickling rendered him quite callous to any inconveniences he
might feel in those remote quarters.
(vi) Bo-bo was in utmost consternation, as you may think.

(E) ADDITIONAL EXERCISES

(i) Write an account entitled "The Discovery of Roast Pig,
according to “Bo-bo.”
(ii) Give a version of the trial at Pekin supposed to have been written by
a reporter who was present.
(iii) Write an essay on “My Favourite Dish.”
(iv) Imagine that you have discovered a paragraph cut from an old
newspaper giving an account of the sudden rise in the price of fuel and pigs.
Write out this paragraph.
(v) Write a short conversation that took place between Ho-ti and Bo-bo
after the trial.
(vi) Search for the meanings of these words, and then use each in a
sentence: consternation, wringing, negligence, asunder, mani fest.
 XII

SOME GALLOPING POEMS

HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT

TO AIX
I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;
I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;
“Good speed!” cried the watch, as the gate-bolts un
drew;
“Speed!” echoed the wall to us galloping through;
Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,
And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace

Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our
place;
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,
Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right,
Re-buckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit,
Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.

‘Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near

Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear;
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;
At Düffield, ‘twas morning as plain as could be;
And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half
chime,
So, Joris broke silence with, “Yet there is time!”
At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one,
To stare thro’ the mist at us galloping past,
And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last,
With resolute shoulders, each butting away
The haze, as some bluff river-headland its spray.

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back,
For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track;
And one eye’s black intelligence,-ever that glance
O’er its white edge at me, his own master, askance!
And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon
His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, “Stay spur!

Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her,
We’ll remember at Aix”-for one heard the quick wheeze
Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees,
And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,
As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.

So we were left galloping, Joris and I,

Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;
The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh,
'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff;
Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,
And “Gallop,” gasped Joris, “for Aix is in sight!”

“How they'll greet us!”-and all in a moment his roan

Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,