Begin with me; here-here plant all your daggers ! Than live as your accomplice. Rien. Spare us, my lord! Nor press this past endurance; your reproof Alas. Your country's freedom! say your own discharge From wholesome rule and honest industry! You mean immunity for blood and spoil Con. [Advancing earnestly.] O! brave friends! [The chiefs all draw their swords, kneel down and kiss the hilt.] Rien. We swear-and as our hearts are in the oath, So may our wishes prosper ! Alas. [Kneels also.] Record it, heaven! And in a cause so just, vouchsafe thy guidance. This solemn sanction, Conrad, reassures me. Whate'er of comment harsh, in heat has passed, Rien. The fault is ours-we own it, and our swords Alas. Then to our work like men who are fit for liberty? Fierce in the field as tigers for our rights, But when the sword is sheathed, the friends of peace, E XXV.-FROM JULIUS CÆSAR.-Shakspeare. BRUTUS-CASSIUS. Tent Scene. Cassius. That you have wronged me, doth appear in this: You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella Brutus. You wronged yourself, to write in such a case. That every nice offense should bear its comment. Cas. I an itching palm? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide its head. Cas. Chastisement ! Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember! Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes? And sell the mighty meed of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. Cas. I am. Bru. I say you are not. Cas. Urge me no more: I shall forget myself— Have mind upon your health--tempt me no farther. Bru. Away, slight man! Cas. Is it possible? Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frightened when a mad man stares? Cas. O gods! ye gods! must I endure all this? Bru. All this! ay, more. Fret till your proud heart break! Go, tell your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Cas. Is it come to this? Bru. You say, you are a better soldier : Let it appear so.; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. Cas. You wrong me every way-you wrong me, Brutus; I said an elder soldier, not a better; Did I say better? Bru. If you did, I care not. Cas. When Cæsar lived, he durst not thus have moved me. Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him. Cas. What! durst not tempt him? Bru. For your life you durst not. Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love; I do that I shall be sorry for. may Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me was that done like Cassius? Cas. I denied you not. Bru. You did. Cas. I did not-he was but a fool That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Bru. Cas. Bru. I do not. Still you practice them on me. I do not like your faults. heart. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus. Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come! Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is a-weary of the world; Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother; When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better Bru. Sheathe your dagger; Be angry when you will it shall have scope, O, Cassius! you are yoked with a lamb, That carries anger, as the flint bears fire; Cas. Hath Cassius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, Cas Bru. O, Brutus! What's the matter? Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humor which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful? Bru. Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, XXVI-FROM CATO.- Addison. CATO-PORTIUS-LUCIUS-JUBA-MARCIA. Scene.-A Chamber. [Cato, solus, sitting in a thoughtful posture; in his hand, Plato's book on the Immortality of the Soul: a drawn sword on the table by him.] Cato. It must be so-Plato, thou reasonest well- Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality? Or whence this secret dread, this inward horror, 'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, Eternity? thou pleasing, dreadful thought! Through what variety of untried being, Through what new scenes and changes must we pass ? |