Brutus A Tragedy |
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| 6. | SCENE VI. |
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 | Brutus |  |
307
SCENE VI.
BRUTUS, PROCULUS.BRUTUS.
No; every circumstance within my mind
The more I scan, the less can I imagine
My son would treason's fatal snares inweave
For Rome's destruction. This, his filial love,
The zeal with which he ever served his country,
Must have opposed. It was not possible
In one short day thus to forget himself,
And each firm-rooted principle destroy.
Away, intruding thoughts!—He is not guilty.
PROCULUS.
Perhaps Messala, in whose wily brain
This execrable plot was formed, might seek
A shelter under his illustrious name;
Or who can say what envy might contrive,
Observing with a cloud his radiant beams,
Dazzled by too much glory?
BRUTUS.
Grant it, Heaven!
PROCULUS.
At least he is thy son, thy only hope;
And whether it appears he join'd or not
In the conspiracy; th'indulgent senate
To thee resign his fate. His life is safe,
Whilst in thy hands: thou wilt preserve the hero,
Preserve him for the public; add to this,
Thou art a father.
BRUTUS.
And a Roman consul.
| Brutus | |