University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

BRUTUS.
[Alone.
Powers supreme! Who rule
With might resistless! To whose high decrees
My soul, and every secret wish it breathes,
Submissive bends! Ye gods, who have revenged
Our violated laws! Who have revenged
My injured country! By whose aid these hands
On the strong base of justice, have upraised
The fame of freedom, built, as it appear'd,
To last thro' endless ages! Would you sink
The holy structure level with the dust?
Hath your impulsive spirit urged my children
Against your own celestial work?—Alas!
That Tiberinus, blind with headstrong rage,
Should seek t'obey a tyrant, and reduce
His country to the yoke of servitude!
Most grievous was the stroke, for tho' a traitor,
He was my son. But, Titus! In whose breast
Dwelt each heroic virtue, upon whom
Rome gazed, enamour'd! Who this very day
Shone forth the minion of success; full fraught
With glory's brightest gifts; by victory led,
And placed aloft in her triumphal car!
Crown'd by my hands with laurel, while with shouts
The capitol resounded; whom my age
With fondest hope regarded; on whose worth
The total state relied! That he! that Titus!
All-powerful gods!