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SCENE V.
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SCENE V.

CÆSAR, ANTONY.
ANTONY.
All is prepar'd;—pale Cassius Looks, still paler:
And starts at every Shout, that Shakes the Forum:
Never, henceforth, let Noise be call'd Sedition:
Rome's public Mouth outroars a hundred Senates!
One loud Consent unites her grateful Tribes,
And Parthia's Fall takes Date, from Cæsar's Crown.

CÆSAR.
Join'd Brutus, in that Voice.—

ANTONY.
No Roman hop'd it:
Reserves, they know, must guard the Stoick's Gravity:
What sowre Solemnity of Look, like His,

40

Stoops a lost Smile, to grace Plebeian Lightness!
Men, who can laugh, as I do—jovial Thinkers!
Fram'd for their Ease, and born, to hate Affliction!
See Things, but as they are! void of the Wit,
That hunts for cover'd Anguish! long, sound Sleepers!
Dull, satisfied, glad Rogues! they trust their Senses,
Love their Friend's, best: and wish, but what they want.
Brutus is deep:—dives farther into Bliss—
Shakes his superior Brow, and pities Fools,
Who dare be happy, against Rules of Policy.

CÆSAR.
Where coud'st thou find him, now?

ANTONY.
Immur'd, at Home,
Sagely despising his good Lords,—the People:—
And shutting Cæsar's Triumph, from his Ear.

CÆSAR.
Take this Occasion, Antony, to visit him;
Bid his wish'd Presence grace thy publick Zeal!
If he declines it, sting him, to Resentment:
Watch, in that Warmth of Heart. what Thoughts escape him;
Sound the dark Depth of his Designs;—and tell him,
That to the Capitol, thou mean'st to bring me:
Rome's Crown, by Freemen given to guard their Liberty.

ANTONY.
How noisy is that Nothing! All its Virtue
Dwells in its Sound:—It means but covered Tyranny.

CÆSAR.
Ever distinguishing Substances, from Sound:

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There is in Liberty, what God's approve;
And only Men, like Gods, have Taste, to share.
There is in Liberty, what Pride perverts,
To serve Sedition, and perplex Command:
True Liberty leaves all Things free,—but Guilt;
And fetters every Thing,—but Art and Virtue.
False Liberty holds nothing bound, but Power,
And lets loose every Tye, that strengthens Law.

ANTONY.
Cæsar, in Science, as in Power, Supream,
Calls Lustre, out of Darkness!—But to Me,
What seems most strange, of Faction's strange Effects,
Is, that among those Crowds, she tempts to Mischeif,
I see good Men, belov'd for every Virtue!
Blindly misdrawn, to hate the peace they wish.

CÆSAR.
Boast fully blind, a Bigot's Proof is Trust;
Faultless in Purpose, yet—his Choice unjust!
Active, that erring Zeal may Truth invade,
Enthusiast Pride obtrudes her blund'ring Aid.
Fierce to the Field, keen Disputants she draws,
Implicit Props of some unreasoning Cause!
Th' absur'd Reformer Order overthrows,
And works up Discord—for the World's Repose!
Jealous of Enemies, disquiets Friends,
Groans, without Wound; and without Fruit, contends;
Wildly sincere! unprevalently strong!
Struggling for Right—and introducing Wrong: