 | Brutus |  |
SCENE IV.
TITUS.Thou hast prevail'd, inexorable maid,
And Rome submits to bondage. Oh, return!
292
As o'er my life! I fly to gain the crown,
Or perish, for thee. To desert thy cause,
That is a crime indeed of deepest die,
Now for thy aid, for thy advice, Messala!
Alas! My rash, my warm intemperate sallies
The patience of his friendship have exhausted.
Mistress, friends, Romans, all, all ravish'd from me
In one pernicious day.
| Brutus | |