Whether the air will calm my spirits: 'tis And the broad moon has brightened.-What a stillness A dazzling mass of artificial light, Which showed all things, but nothing as they were. Reared up from out the waters,-scarce less strangely Of architecture, those Titanian fabrics, Which point in Egypt's plains to times that have The act of opening the forbidden lattice To let in love through music,-makes his heart Of the far lights of skimming gondolas, Of boatmen, answering back, with verse for verse- 407 DIALOGUES. I.-BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.-Shakspeare. Bru. You wronged yourself to write in such a case. Cas. I an itching palm! You know that you are Brutus that speak this, 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 space of our large honours, For so much trash as may be graspèd thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. Cas. Brutus, bay not me! I'll not endure it; you forget yourself To make conditions. Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius. 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't possible? Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares? Cas. O gods! ye gods! must I endure all this? And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Cas. Is it come to this? Bru. You say you are a better soldier ; I shall be glad to learn of noble men. I Bru. If you did, I care not. -you wrong me, Brutus: Cas. When Cæsar lived, he durst not thus have moved me. Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him. Cas. I durst not? Bru. No. Cas. What! durst not tempt him? Bru. For your life you durst not. Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love may do that I shall be sorry for. Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; For I am armed so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind, For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; I had rather coin my heart, 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? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal-counters from his friends, Dash him to pieces! 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 A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Bru. I do not like your faults. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. heart. 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; Cas. Hath Cassius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him? Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand. Cas. O Brutus ! Bru. What's the matter? Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful? Bru. Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. II.-MACDUFF, PRINCE MALCOLM, AND ROSSE.-Shakspeare Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not. Kind Powers! betimes remove The means which make us strangers! Rosse. Sir, amen. Macd. Stands Scotland where it did? Rosse. Alas, poor country, Almost afraid to know itself!- it cannot Be called our mother, but our grave; where nothing, Where sighs and groans, and shrieks that rend the air, Is there scarce asked, for whom; and good men's lives Macd. Oh, relation Too nice, and yet too true! Mal. What is the newest grief? Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker; Macd. How does my wife? Rosse. Well too. children? Macd. The tyrant has not battered at their peace? Rosse. No; they were well at peace, when I did leave them. Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes it? Rosse. When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour Of many worthy fellows that were out, Which was to my belief witnessed the rather, For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot :Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland Would create soldiers, and make women fight To doff their dire distresses. Mal. Be't their comfort We're coming thither: gracious England hath That Christendom gives out. Rosse. 'Would, I could answer This comfort with the like! But I have words, Macd. What concern they? The general cause? Or is it a fee-grief, Rosse. No mind that's honest But in it shares some woe; though the main part Pertains to you alone. Macd. If it be mine, Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it! Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound That ever yet they heard. Macd. Ah! I guess at it! Rosse. Your castle is surprised, your wife and babes Were, on the quarry of these murdered deer, Mal. Merciful Powers! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brow; Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all that could be found. |