University of Virginia Library

Search this document 

402

SCENE IV.

Brutus remains, laid on his Couch
BRUTUS.
'Tis but in vain, Sleep is not to be courted.
Sing, Boy, the Song that Portia likes so well,
And sooth my Thoughts with some melodious Sounds.
(Soft Musick and Song.
Man is himself an Instrument of Musick;
But yet some String is always out of Tune,
And ev'ry Sound we make shews our Confusion.
Why should this Death of Cæsar trouble me?
I did it not for Anger, or Ambition;
But for mere Honesty, and Publick Good;
Nay, Good to him; for in my own Opinion,
'Tis better much to dye, than live unjustly
My Fellow Citizens, my Kindred, Friends,
All sunk at once beneath his rising Fortune.
And should I tamely suffer an Usurper

403

T'enslave Mankind, because he smiles on me?
Friendship indeed is the most tempting Bribe;
But Justice should be blind to all its Beauty.
And yet a Restlesness attends such Deeds,
Tho' ne'er so just: something that feels unwieldy,
That sits uneasy on a gentle Nature
I cannot sleep, unless I shake it off.