sends her two Consuls, and puts forth all her strength by land and sen, as if a Pyrrhus or a Hannibal were on her borders! Envoys of Rome! To Lentulus and Gellius bear this message: "Their graves are measured!" Look on that narrow stream, a silver thread, high on the mountain's side! Slenderly it winds, but soon is swelled by others meeting it, until a torrent, terrible and strong, it sweeps to the abyss, where all is ruin. So Spartacus comes on! So swells his force, small and despised at first, but now resistless! On, on to Rome we come! The gladiators come! Let Opulence tremble in all his palaces! Let Oppression shudder to think the oppressed may have their turn! Let Cruelty turn pale at thought of redder hands than his! O! we shall not forget Rome's many lessons. She shall not find her training was all wasted upon indocile pupils. Now, begone! Prepare the Eternal City for our games! 24. MARULLUS TO THE ROMAN POPULACE.-Shakspeare. WHEREFORE rejoice that Cæsar comes in triumph? What tributaries follow him to Rome, То grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things' And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Begone! Run to your houses, fall upon your knees Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude! 25. MARCUS BRUTUS ON THE DEATH OF CESAR.Shakspeare. ROMANS, Countrymen, and lovers! Hear me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor; and bave respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If -to him! there be any in this assembly, any, dear friend of Cæsar's, say, that Brutus' love to Cæsar was not less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves, than that Cæsar were dead, to live all freemen? As Cæsar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him, but as he was ambitious, I slew him. There are tears, for his love; joy, for his fortune; honor, for his valor; and death, for his ambition! Who is here so base, that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. None? Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæsar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony; who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth: As which of you shall not? With this I depart: That, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death. 26 MARK ANTONY TO THE PEOPLE, ON CÆSAR'S DEATH. —Shakspears. FRIENDS, Romans, Countrymen! lend me your ears I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him. So are they all! all honorable men, He was my friend, faithful and just to me,- He hath brought many captives home to Rome, When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept. And Bratus is an honorable man! Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition ? — And sure he is an honorable man! I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke; What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him? Have stood against the world; - now lies he there, Unto their issue! If you have tears, prepare to shed them now You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Cæsar put it on: 'T was on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii! Look! in this place, ran Cassius' dagger through: Through this, the well-belovéd Brutus stabbed! Judge, O ye Gods, how dearly Cæsar loved him! For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab, Quite vanquished him. Then burst his mighty heart Even at the base of Pompey's statue, Which all the while ran blood! great Cæsar fell' O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! you They that have done this deed are honorable! I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain, blunt man, That love my friend, and that they know full well I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds,-poor, poor, dumb mouths And bid them speak for me. But, were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony My sentence is for open war of wiles, Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, By our delay? No, let us rather choose, Fear to be worse destroyed. What can be worse Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, condemned, In this abhorred deep, to utter woe, Where pain of unextinguishable fire Must exercise us without hope of end, The vassals of His anger, when the scourge Inexorable and the torturing hour Call us to penance? More destroyed than thus, What fear we, then? What doubt we to incense |