The Works of John Sheffield Earl of Mulgrave, Marquis of Normanby, and Duke of Buckingham. In two volumes ... The third edition, Corrected |
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| IV. | SCENE IV. |
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 | The Works of John Sheffield |  |
SCENE IV.
Enter Titinius, meeting one of Cassius's Officers just entering at the other Door.Titinius.
Brutus with chearful News greets Caius Cassius;
And, having broke the Forces of Octavius,
Is hasting hither to relieve his Friend.
Officer.
Alas! he comes too late, see there lies Cassius!
Enter Brutus with Officers.
Brutus.
Is Cassius on the Ground? O my dear Friend! [Runs to Cassius.
I came to fill thy Ears with pleasing News;
But such a Sight has turn'd my Joy to Grief.
Cassius.
What! has my feeble Hand made me be taken?
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[Rising a little, believing it to be Antony.
Brutus.
Rather the Grief of ev'ry worthy Roman.
What cursed Hand has slain my dearest Friend?
Cassius.
What do I hear, and see? Is Brutus there?
A Pris'ner too?
Brutus.
The Gods forbid that, Cassius!
Look up and see thy mournful Friend victorious.
Cassius.
Have you then sav'd the Liberty of Rome?
I ask no more, and die with full Content.
But yet I leave my Junia behind:
Oh, still be tender of that best of Women!
In being kind to her, remember me.
[Dies in his Arms.
Brutus.
Remember thee! Who can forget thy Worth?
With a dead Friend, Disputes are all forgot,
And what is tender takes up all the Mind;
Grief only thinks on that which most promotes it: [Turns to his Officers.
And oh! I long to give my Sorrow vent;
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Summon our Soldiers, that I may with Praise
Keep up that Spirit which has fir'd their Souls. [Enter a confused Multitude of Soldiers.
Hail, Fellow-Soldiers, worthy of that Cause
For which you fight so well. Your Actions past
Urge you to more: Be your own great Example.
On far unequal Terms these Armies meet;
They fight to make Ambition Tyranny,
And themselves Slaves; their Vict'ry is their Ruin.
But if for this one Day you can submit
To one who but commands you for your Sakes;
(Now proud to lead, while you are pleas'd to follow)
You ev'ry one shall be a Conqueror,
And equal to your General, who seeks
No other Triumph but his Country's Freedom.
End but that Work, and then to foreign Wars.
There's no Man here, but may by Merit hope
To lead an Army, and have me his Soldier. Acclamations of Applause.
Let prodigal Antonius promise Treasures,
Wrench'd from hard Hands of wretched lab'ring Swains,
Who lift them up to Heav'n to call down Vengeance.
I can out-bid him, spite of all his Riches:
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That only nam'd, I need to say no more.
[Exeunt Soldiers shouting.
| The Works of John Sheffield | |