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University of Virginia Library

The Works of John Sheffield

Earl of Mulgrave, Marquis of Normanby, and Duke of Buckingham. In two volumes ... The third edition, Corrected

Buckingham, John Sheffield (1648-1720 or 21)

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I.

THE TEMPLE OF DEATH.

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SONGS AND VERSES.

ELEGY TO THE Duchess of R*****.

A LETTER from SEA.

Love's Slavery.

To one who accused him of being too sensual in his Love.

Inconstancy Excused.

On Apprehension of losing what he had newly gain'd.

The Reconcilement.

To a Coquet Beauty.

On Don Alonzo's being killed in Portugal, upon Account of the Infanta, in the Year 1683.

A Dialogue sung on the Stage between an elderly Shepherd, and a very young Nymph.

On one who died discovering her Kindness.

On Lucinda's Death.

To a Lady retiring into a Monastery.

HELEN to PARIS,

Part of the Story of Orpheus.

AN ESSAY ON SATIRE.

On Mr. HOBBS, and his Writings.

Written over a Gate.

The MIRACLE, 1707.

ODE on the Death of Henry Purcell.

On the Loss of an only Son, Robert Marquis of Normanby.

On Mr. POPE, and his Poems.

The Election of a Poet Laureat in 1719.

ON THE DUKE of YORK Banished to Brussels.

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THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CÆSAR, ALTERED:

PROLOGUE to the Alteration of JULIUS CÆSAR.

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V.

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III.

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3.

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IV.

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V.

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THE TRAGEDY OF MARCUS BRUTUS.

PROLOGUE. By the AUTHOR.

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Of Athenian Philosophers. Written at the Command of his Grace, by Mr. POPE.

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Of Athenian Youths and Virgins. By Mr. Pope.

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SCENE V.

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Of Roman Senators.

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Of Roman Soldiers.

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VI.

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SCENE V.

Enter a Spirit in the Shape of Cæsar, full of Wounds.

Sure I sleep now, or else my Eyes delude me:
I know 'tis Fancy all; and yet I stagger.

362

Ha! it comes on! What art thou? When alive,
Tho' arm'd with Pow'r, adorn'd with Fame and Greatness,
I fear'd thee not, because thou wert unjust;
But more than human now, thou seem'st above me!
Speak, unknown Being! I conjure thee, speak.

Spirit.
I am thy Evil Genius, Marcus Brutus,
And have assum'd this Shape, to give thee Terror.

Brutus.
Terror! How cam'st thou to know me no better?
Sure thou art ignorant, as well as evil.

Spirit.
Is Murder then no Crime?

Brutus.
Killing is none;
When done not for ourselves, but for our Country.

Spirit.
Not for yourself indeed; you stabb'd your Friend.

Brutus.
Friend! Oh thou touchest now my tender Part!
Oh name that Word no more!

Spirit.
A Friend! a Friend!

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Brutus.
But what's a Friend, compar'd with publick Good?
Convince me, if thou can'st: Oh, teach me Truth!
And shew me but one Glimpse of future Being,
Of which we talk so much, yet know so little!
Dispel these Mists that muffle poor Mankind,
And open to me all that glorious Scene!
Shew me where Virtue smiles and sits enthron'd,
And where Morality finds just Reward;
'Tis sure, above: for ill Men prosper here.

Spirit.
Soon at Philippi thou shalt know it all.

Brutus.
Shall we then meet again?

Spirit.
Yes, at Philippi.

Brutus.
I'll meet thee there. I'll meet thee any-where. [Exit Spirit.

Now I am resolute, the Shadow flies,
And vanishes together with my Fear.
What hoa!

Enter Boy.
My Lord!

Brutus.
Did you see nothing?

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Boy.
No.

Brutus.
Nor hear me speak?

Boy.
Nothing at all, my Lord.

Brutus.
Let ev'ry thing be ready for our March;
And call me up, be sure, by break of Day.
Till then I'll sleep within.

[Exeunt.