SIR, I arrest you at your country's suit, Who, as a debt to her, requires the fruit Of that rich stock which she by Nature's hand Gave you in trust, to th' use of this whole land. Next, she indicts you of a felony, For stealing what was her propriety, Yourself, from hence: so seeking to convey The public treasure of the State away. More, y' are accus'd of ostracism, the fate Impos'd of old by the Athenian state On eminent virtue; but that curse which they Cast on their men, you on your country lay; For, thus divided from your noble parts, This kingdom lives in exile, and all hearts That relish worth or honour, being rent From your perfections, suffer banishment. These are your public injuries; but I Have a just private quarrel to defy, And call you coward, thus to run away When you had pierc'd my heart, not daring stay Till I redeem'd my honour; but I swear By Celia's eyes, by the same force to tear Your heart from you, or not to end this strife Till I or find revenge or lose my life. But as in single fights it oft hath been In that unequal equal trial seen, That he who had receiv'd the wrong at first Came from the combat oft too with the worst; So, if you foil me when we meet, I 'll then Give you fair leave to wound me so agen. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GROSS CLINIC by CAROL FROST TO THE NIGHTINGALE by ANNE FINCH LOVE IN A COTTAGE by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS SIBLINGS OF A GRAYER SKY by NAVEED ALAM THE LONE BUTTE by EVA K. ANGLESBURG FROM AN OFFICE WINDOW by FRANCES M. BALLARD THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: THE MAGIC LAND by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |