The American Union Speaker Part 72

What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice?--What! shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers,--shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty s.p.a.ce of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus?-- I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman!

Cas. Brutus, bay not me!

I'll not endure it. You forget yourself, To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I, Older in practice, abler than yourself To make conditions.

Bru. Go to; you are not, Ca.s.sius.

Cas. I am.

Bru. I say you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more: I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health; tempt me no farther!

Bru. Away, slight man!

Cas. Is 't possible?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?

Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

Cas O ye G.o.ds! ye G.o.ds! Must I endure all this?

Bru. All this? ay, more! Fret till your proud heart break; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble! Must I budge?

Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch Under your testy humor? By the G.o.ds, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth,--yea for my laughter, When you are waspis.h.!.+

Cas. Is it come to this?

Bru. You say, you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of n.o.ble men.

Cas. You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus: I said, an elder soldier, not a better.

Did I say, better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

Cas. When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.

Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him!

Cas. I durst not?

Bru. No.

Cas. What? durst not tempt him?

Bru. For your life, you durst not!

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love; I may do that I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for.

There is no terror, Ca.s.sius, in your threats; For I am armed so strong in honesty, That they pa.s.s by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me;-- For I can raise no money by vile means: By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection! I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me. Was that done like Ca.s.sius?

Should I have answered Caius Ca.s.sius so?

When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, G.o.ds, with all your thunderbolts, Dash him to pieces!

Can. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Cas. I did not;--he was but a fool That brought my answer back.--Brutus hath rived my heart; A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.

Cas. You love me not.

Bru. I do not like your faults.

Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults.

Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.

Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Ca.s.sius, For Ca.s.sius is aweary of the world; Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother; Checked like a bondman; all his faults observed, Set in a note-book, learned, and conned by rote, To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes!--There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine,--richer than gold; If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth; I that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike as thou didst at Caesar; for, I know, When thou didst hate him worst, then lovedst him better Than ever thou lovedst Ca.s.sius!

Brat. Sheathe your dagger; Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor.

O Ca.s.sius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger, as the flint bears fire; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.

Cas. Hath Ca.s.sius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief and blood ill-tempered, vexeth him?

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered, too.

Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.

Bru. And my heart too.

Cas. O, Brutus!

Bru. What's the matter?

Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humor, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Ca.s.sius; and, from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

Shakespeare.

CCCXXLXIV.

DOGBERRY'S CHARGE.

DOGBERRY--VERGES--THE WATCH.

Dog. Are you good men and true?

Ver. Yea, or else it were a pity but they should suffer salvation, body and soul.

Dog. Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if they should have any allegiance in them, being chosen for the prince's watch.

Ver. Well, give them their charge, neighbor Dogberry.

Dog. First, who think you the most desartless man to be constable?

1 Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal; for they can write and read.

Dog. Come hither, neighbor Seacoal. G.o.d hath blessed you with a good name: to be a well-favored man is the gift of fortune, but to write and read comes by nature.

2 Watch. Both which, master constable,-- Dog. You have; I knew it would be your answer. Well, for your favor, sir, why, give G.o.d thanks, and make no boast of it; and for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is no need of such vanity. You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch; therefore, bear you the lantern. This is your charge;--you shall comprehend all vagrom men; you are to bid any man stand, in the prince's name.

2 Watch. How, if he will not stand?

Dog. Why, then, take no note of him, but let him go; and presently call the rest of the watch together, and thank G.o.d you are rid of a knave.

Ver. If he will not stand when he is bidden he is none of the prince's subjects.

Dog. True, and they are to meddle with none but the prince's subjects.--You shall also make no noise in the streets: for, for the watch to babble and talk, is most tolerable, and not to be endured.

2 Watch. We will rather sleep than talk: we know what belongs to a watch.

Dog. Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping should offend: only, have a care that your bills be not stolen.--Well, you are to call at all the ale-houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed.

2 Watch. How, if they will not?

Dog. Why, then, let them alone till they are sober; if they make you not then the better answer, you may say, they are not the men you took them for.

2 Watch. Well, sir.

Dog. If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue of your office, to be no true man; and, for such kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them, why, the more is for your honesty.

2 Watch. If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay hands on him?

Dog. Truly, by your office, you may; but, I think, they that touch pitch will be defiled: the most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him show himself what he is, and steal out of your company.

Ver. You have been always called a merciful man, partner.

Dog. Truly, I would not hang a dog, by my will; much more a man who hath any honesty in him.

Ver. If you hear a child cry in the night, you must call to the nurse, and bid her still it.

2 Watch. How, if the nurse be asleep, and will not hear us.

Dog. Why, then, depart in peace, and let the child wake her with crying: for the ewe that will not hear her lamb when it baes, will never answer a calf when it bleats.

Ver. 'T is very true.

Dog. This is the end of the charge. You, constable, are to present the prince's own person: if you meet the prince in the night, you may stay him.

Ver. Nay, by 'r lady, that, I think, he cannot.

Dog. Five s.h.i.+llings to one on 't, with any man that knows the statues, he may stay him: marry, not without the prince be willing: for, indeed, the watch ought to offend no man, and it is an offence to stay a man against his will.

Ver. By 'r lady, I think, it be so.

Dog. Ha, ha, ha! Well, masters, good night: an there be any matter of weight chances, call up me: keep your fellows'

counsels and your own, and good-night.--Come, neighbor.

2 Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed.

Dog. One word more, honest neighbors: I pray you, watch about Signior Leonato's door, for the wedding being there tomorrow there is a great coil to-night.--Adieu; be vigilant, I beseech you.

Shakespeare.

CCCLXXV.

INDIGESTION.