Cur.—­How base the offering that were made in gold. 
  What are riches to the blood that flows
  Within a good man’s veins? rather let him
  Who is the wisest, bravest, best amongst us
  Fall in this fearful pit.  Now ye who read
  The hidden books of nature say—­who is
  The man most envied by his fellows,—­by the gods
  Most lov’d?—­That man is more than all the gems
  This teeming earth can boast.  Name but that man
  And in an instant shall the debt be paid;
  For Rome’s best patriot is her greatest good.

Sooth.—­Ay, noble Curtius, and that man art thou,
  Thy words proclaim thy patriotic blood! 
  Thy tongue first names the gift that angry heav’n
  Asks of rebellious earth.  We need thy life. 
  Destruction hovers o’er the trembling crew,
  That fills this little forum.  Thou alone,
  The noblest, bravest, wisest, best of us,
  Canst scare the monster from the frowning skies,
  And fill the gulf that yawns beneath us. 
  Die, Curtius, and thy name shall be enroll’d
  With gods and heroes—­honour’d, lov’d, and fam’d. 
  When senates are forgot!

Cur.—­Since then by dying I can refound Rome,
  For Rome preserv’d is built and born again. 
  Be mine a Roman’s death.  Else ’twere in vain
  That once Eneas toil’d—­that Romulus bore sway! 
  In vain the matron’s tears subdued her flinty son! 
  In vain did Manlius for his country fight! 
  In vain Lucretia and Virginia bleed! 
  Romans, farewell!—­I look around and see
  A band of augurs—­an assembled senate,
  Plebeians and patricians—­
  A people and a nation met together
  In council to avert calamity,
  And all are friends.  Farewell, farewell, farewell! 
  Favourites of Fortune what is it to die? 
  Ye sons of pleasure! look on him who once
  Did sternly look on you—­who dies for you! 
  Scions of Victory! how cracks the heart,
  In that short moment of a bright career,
  When the last echo from the couch of Fame
  Falls on the dying ear?  Oh! this mine act
  Were best done whilst the blood is warm—­lest time
  For thought should mar the purpose.  Thought?—­a glorious deed
  Needs none.  Come horse!—­and at one fearful bound
  Plunge in the gulf beneath!

Curtius leaps into the chasm.

Sooth.—­The gods attest the worth of this bold youth.

Cit.—­The chasm closes—­and the dangers pass: 
  With buried Curtius following envy lies,
  Nor dare she lift her sickly head
  Above his giant grave.

CYMBELINE.

* * * * *

ETYMOLOGICAL CURIOSITIES.

(To the Editor of the Mirror.)

Probably the following observations upon singular words, may amuse some of your readers.  I should, however, premise that as regards myself, the greater part are not original.