How to Improve the Climax of Your Speech
Climax is the artistic building up of a dramatic effect by means of increased force and intensity.
Here are some excerpts to help you practice your climax:
1.
We have petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves at the foot of the throne.
PATRICK HENRY.
2.
I not only did not say this, but did not even write it; I not only did not write it, but took no part in the embassy; I not only took no part in the embassy, but used no persuasion with the Thebans.
“On the Crown.” DEMOSTHENES.
3.
It is coming fast upon you; already it is near at hand—yet
a few short weeks, and we may be in the midst of those unspeak
able miseries the recollection of which now rends your souls
asunder.
LORD BROUGHAM.
4.
They must be repealed. You will repeal them. I pledge
myself for it that you will in the end repeal them: I stake my
reputation on it. I will consent to be taken for an idiot if they
are not finally repealed.
CHATHAM.
5.
Ay, is it so?
Then wakes the power which in the age of iron
Bursts forth to curb the great, and raise the low.
Mark, where she stand: around her form I draw
The awful circle of our solemn Church!
Set but a foot within that holy ground,
And on thy head—yea, tho it wore a crown—
I launch the curse of Rome!
“Richelieu.” EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON.
6.
I impeach Warren Hastings, Esquire, of high crimes and misdemeanors.
I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain, in Parliament assembled, whose parliamentary trust he has betrayed.
I impeach him in the name of all the Commons of Great Britain, whose national character he has dishonored.
I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose laws, rights, and liberties he has subverted, whose property he has destroyed, whose country he has laid waste and desolate.
I impeach him in the name, and by virtue, of those eternal laws of justice which he has violated.
I impeach him in the name of human nature itself, which he has cruelly outraged, injured, and oppressed, in both sexes, in every age, rank, situation and condition of life.
“Impeachment of Warren Hastings.” EDMUND BURKE.
7.
Look to your hearths, my lords!
For there, henceforth, shall sit, for household gods,
Shapes hot from Tartarus; all shames and crimes;
Wan Treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn;
Suspicion, poisoning his brother’s cup;
Naked Rebellion, with the torch and axe,
Making his wild sport of your blazing thrones;
Till Anarchy comes down on you like night,
And massacre seals Rome’s eternal grave.
“Catiline’s Defiance.” GEORGE CROLY.
8.
Then soon he rose; the prayer was strong; The Psalm was warrior David’s song; The text, a few short words of might— “The Lord of hosts shall arm the right!” He spoke of wrongs too long endured, Of sacred rights to be secured; Then from his patriot tongue of flame The startling words for Freedom came.
The stirring sentences he spake Compelled the heart to glow or quake, And, rising on the theme’s broad wing, And grasping in his nervous hand The imaginary battle-brand, In face of death he dared to fling Defiance to a tyrant king.
“The Revolutionary Rising.” THOMAS BUCHANAN READ.
9.
King Henry. What’s he,that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland?—No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men the greater share of honor.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honor
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, ‘faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honor,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more.
Bather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called—the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tiptoe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,
And say,—”To-morrow is Saint Crispian”:
Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars,
And say, “These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day: then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,—
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,—
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d:
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon SAINT CRISPIN’S DAY.