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How shall we treat this bold aspiring man?
Success still follows him, and backs his crimes.
Pharsalia gave him Rome: Egypt has since
Received his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cæsar's.
Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,

And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands
Still smoke with blood. "T is time we should decree

What course to take. Our foe advances on us,
And envies us even Libya's sultry deserts.

Fathers, pronounce your thoughts: are they still fixed
To hold it out and fight it to the last?

Or are your hearts subdued at length, and wrought
By time and ill success to a submission?
Sempronius, speak.-

him.

Sempronius. My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death?
No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
And, at the head of our remaining troops,
Attack the foe, break through the thick array
Of his thronged legions, and charge home upon
Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest,
May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
Rise, fathers, rise! 't is Rome demands your help;
Rise, and revenge her slaughtered citizens,
Or share their fate! the corpse of half her senate
Manure the fields of Thessaly, while we
Sit here deliberating in cold debates

If we should sacrifice our lives to honour,
Or wear them out in servitude and chains.
Rouse up, for shame! our brothers of Pharsalia
Point at their wounds, and cry aloud-To battle!
Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow,
And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged amongst us!
Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal
Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason:
True fortitude is seen in great exploits

That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides:
All else is towering frenzy and distraction.
Are not the lives of those who draw the sword
In Rome's defence intrusted to our care?
Should we thus lead them to a field of slaughter

Might not the impartial world with reason say,
We lavished at our deaths the blood of thousands,
To grace our fall, and make our ruin glorious?
Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion.

Lucius. My thoughts, I must confess, are turned on peace.
Already have our quarrels filled the world

With widows and with orphans: Scythia mourns
Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions
Lie half-unpeopled by the feuds of Rome:

"Tis time to sheathe the sword, and spare mankind.
It is not Cæsar, but the gods, my fathers,

The gods declare against us, and repel
Our vain attempts. To urge the foe to battle,
(Prompted by blind revenge and wild despair,)
Were to refuse the awards of Providence,
And not to rest in Heaven's determination.
Already have we shown our love to Rome;
Now let us show submission to the gods.
We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves,
But free the commonwealth; when this end fails,
Arms have no further use: our country's cause,
That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands,
And bids us not delight in Roman blood,
Unprofitably shed: what men could do

Is done already: heaven and earth will witness,

If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.

Semp. This smooth discourse, and mild behaviour, oft Conceal a traitor-Something whispers me

All is not right-Cato, beware of Lucius.

Cato. Let us appear nor rash nor diffident:

Immoderate valour swells into a fault;
And fear, admitted into public councils,

Betrays like treason. Let us shun them both.
Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs

Are grown thus desperate: we have bulwarks round us:
Within our walls are troops inured to toil
In Afric's heats, and seasoned to the sun;
Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us,
Ready to rise at its young prince's call.
While there is hope, do not distrust the gods;
But wait at least till Cæsar's near approach
Force us to yield. 'T will never be too late

B

To sue for chains, and own a conqueror.

Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time?

No, let us draw her term of freedom out

In its full length, and spin it to the last.
So shall we gain still one day's liberty;
And let me perish, but in Cato's judgment,
A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty,
Is worth a whole eternity of bondage.

SPEECHES.

ADDISON.

1.-SPEECH OF HENRY V. TO HIS SOLDIERS AT THE SIEGE OF HARFLEUR.

ONCE more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;

Or close the wall up with our English dead!

In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man

As modest stillness and humility:

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage:
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;

Let it pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon.

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold heard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To its full height! On, on, you noblest English,
Whose blood is fetched from fathers of war proof!
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought,
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot;
Follow your spirit: and upon this charge,
Cry-God for Harry! England! and St George!

SHAKSPEARE.

2.-ZANGA'S REASONS FOR HATING ALONZO.

'TIS twice five years since that great man
(Great let me call him, for he conquered me)
Made me the captive of his arm in fight.

He slew my father, and threw chains o'er me,
While I with pious rage pursued revenge.
I then was young; he placed me near his person,
And thought me not dishonoured by his service.
One day (may that returning day be night,
The stain, the curse, of each succeeding year!)
For something, or for nothing, in his pride
He struck me: (while I tell it, do I live?)
He smote me on the cheek-I did not stab him,
For that were poor revenge.-E'er since, his folly
Hath striven to bury it beneath a heap
Of kindnesses, and thinks it is forgot.
Insolent thought! and like a second blow!
Has the dark adder venom? So have I

When trod upon. Proud Spaniard, thou shalt feel me !
By nightly march he purposed to surprise
The Moorish camp; but I have taken care
They shall be ready to receive his favour.
Failing in this, a cast of utmost moment,
Would darken all the conquests he has won.-
Be propitious, O Mahomet, on this important hour,
And give at length my famished soul revenge!

YOUNG.

3.-FALCONBRIDGE TO KING JOHN.

ALL Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out
But Dover Castle; London hath received,
Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers:
Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone

To offer service to your enemy;

And wild amazement hurries up and down
The little number of your doubtful friends.
But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad?
Be great in act, as you have been in thought;
Let not the world see fear, and sad distrust,

Govern the motions of a kingly eye:
Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow
Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behaviours from the great,
Grow great by your example, and put on
The dauntless spirit of resolution.
Away; and glister like the god of war,
When he intendeth to become the field:
Show boldness and aspiring confidence.
What, shall they seek the lion in his den,
And fright him there? and make him tremble there?
O, let it not be said! Forage, and run

To meet displeasure further from the doors;
And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.

SHAKSPEARE.

4.-MARINO FALIERO TO THE CONSPIRATORS.

You see me here,

As one of you hath said, an old, unarmed,

Defenceless man; and yesterday you saw me
Presiding in the hall of ducal state,
Apparent sovereign of our hundred isles,
Robed in official purple, dealing out
The edicts of a power which is not mine,

Nor yours, but of our masters-the patricians.
Why I was there you know, or think you know;
Why I am here, he who hath been most wronged,
He who among you hath been most insulted,
Outraged, and trodden on, until he doubt
If he be worm or no, may answer for me,
Asking of his own heart, what brought him here?
You know my recent story, all men know it,
And judge of it far differently from those
Who sate in judgment to heap scorn on scorn.
But spare me the recital-it is here,

Here at my heart the outrage—but my words,
Already spent in unavailing plaints,
Would only show my feebleness the more,
And I come here to strengthen even the strong,

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