The adulateur | ||
SCENE I.
Enter Brutus.Brutus.
O my poor country!—
I've wak'd and wept, and would have fought for thee,
And empted every vein, when threatn'd ruin.
29
The manacles prepar'd by Brundo's hand,
Cruel Rapatio, with more fatal art,
Has fix'd, has rivetted beyond redress—
My indignation's rouz'd, my soul disdains,
Nor will I longer stay where poisonous breath,
Of Sycophants applause, pollutes the air.
The shameless tyrant snuffs the base perfume;
With unrelenting heart and brazen front
He rears his guilty head amidst the fear
Of Servia's virtuous sons, whose latest breath
Shall execrate a wretch, who dare enslave,
A generous, free and independent people.
—If, ye pow'rs divine,
Ye mark the movements of this nether world,
And bring them to account—crush, crush these vipers,
Who singl'd out by a community,
To guard their rights—shall for a grasp of oar,
Or paltry office sell them to the foe.
[Exit.
The adulateur | ||