 | The Death of Caesar |  |
SCENE IV.
CÆSAR, ANTHONY.ANTHONY.
Have I deceived thee? Dost thou think the ties
Most dear to nature, can engage a heart
So proud? So rigid? Leave, for ever leave
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Which weighs thus heavy on thy generous mind.
Let him, determined as he is, lament
The fall of Rome, but at whose head he points
The vengeful shaft, of that let him remain
In total ignorance. From Cæsar sprung,
Warp'd from his high descent, he merits not
The glorious consanguinity. Ungrateful
To all thy bounty, all thy tender love
Repaying with ingratitude, cast off
These weaker feelings; and renounce the son.
CÆSAR.
It is impossible, I cannot banish
The affection of a parent.
ANTHONY.
Banish then
Far from thy thoughts the splendour which around
Circles the diadem! Retread the steps
By which I saw thee to the dazzling sane
Of glory climb, and press the vulgar earth
Thy milkiness of nature ill accords
With uncontroul'd authority, it mars
Thy greatness, and ambition's workmanship
Unseemly levels. Having bent the neck
Of haughty Rome, wilt thou thus tamely bear
The insolence of Cassius? Shall this Cimber,
This Cinna, unimportant as they are,
The lowest of the senate, dare assume
These airs of self-sufficiency before
The master of the universe? Shall these
Dare brave thy power? or live to check the will
Of him who conquer'd them? to whom they owe
Profound submission?
CÆSAR.
They were born my equals;
Struggling in war I vanquish'd them; and placed
So high above their station, I excuse
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By me imposed.
ANTHONY.
Less precious had their blood
Been in the eyes of Marius; Sylla's hand
Had long e'er now fall'n heavy on them.
CÆSAR.
Sylla
Was a barbarian, cruelty inspired
Each thought, each action. Massacre alone,
And savage fury form'd his politics
And all his greatness. Circled with a band
Of executioners, he govern'd Rome.
He was the terror of his country, Cæsar
Would be her pleasure, and her dear delight.
I know the people, in a day they change;
As reigns caprice, they deal around their hate
Or love with equal ease, profuse of both.
If my exalted rank provokes the sense
Of envy in them, by my generous deeds
Attracted, their affections still are mine.
To pardon those who cannot injure us,
Is no mistaken policy; tho' bound
In strongest fetters, by the semblance won
Of liberty, their weak erroneous minds
Regard me as its patron. It is right,
Above the pit to which I lure them on,
To scatter flowers, with gentle management
To soothe the tiger when around his limbs
We brace the chain, to please him when he feels
The galling load, and charm him to submission.
Let Cæsar from the bosom of his rivals
Force their esteem; be this their punishment.
ANTHONY.
Force thou their dread; know, to be fear'd and reign,
Are terms synonimous.
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Away! no dread,
No fears would I inspire, but in the field,
And the stern hour of battle.
ANTHONY.
Soon the people
Will find thy easy temper and abuse it.
CÆSAR.
The people! No. It is their general wish
T'immortalize my bounty. See the temple,
Which Rome to Cæsar's clemency hath raised!
ANTHONY.
I see it well. Another she e'er long
May raise to vengeance; tremble at the thought!
Tremble, reflecting on these men, whose hearts
Are ulcerated deep, while fell despair
Feeds th'ever-rankling sore! Idolaters
Of Roman freedom, and from principle
Steel'd with remorseless cruelty. The soul
Of Cassius is alarm'd, his jealous eyes
Behold me placing on thy brow this day
The hated diadem; e'en in thy presence
Already have they dared to manifest
Their sullen discontent. Prudence requires
To gain the warmest of them to our side,
The most impetuous of these zealots. Deign
At least to hide thy purpose for a while,
And thus elude the danger of that stroke
They seem to meditate.
CÆSAR.
Could I have stoop'd
To fear, I would have stoop'd to punish them.
Let not thy counsels urge me on to deeds
On which abhorrence waits. I know to fight,
I know to conquer, but severity
I cannot, will not know.—Come, let us hence,
Dead be suspicion! in her blood-stain'd cave
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O'er the submissive world her iron rod!
| The Death of Caesar | |