And live upon the vapor of a dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love,
For others' uses;'
nothing more glorious than the burst in which he volleyed forth the following passage, suppressed by the barbarians of our theatres,—
'Like to the Pontic Sea,
Whose icy current and compulsive course
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontic and the Hellespont;
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,