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, Cassius; and, from henceforth,
When you are over earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

Shakespeare.-Julius Caesar, Act iv, Scene iii.

NOTES.-Ides (pro. idz) was a term used in the Roman calendar. It fell on the fifteenth day of March, May, July, and October, and on the thirteenth of other months. On the ides of March, 44 B. C., Julius Cæsar was murdered by Brutus, Cassius, and other conspirators. The populace were aroused to indignation, and the conspirators were compelled to fly. Indirection; i. e., dishonest means.

Antony and Octavius, who, with Lepidus, formed the triumvirate now governing Rome, were at this time marching against the forces of Brutus and Cassius.

Plutus, in ancient mythology, the god of wealth.

LXII. THE QUACK.

John Tobin, 1770-1804, a solicitor, was born at Salisbury, England, and died on shipboard near Cork. He wrote several comedies, the most popular being "The Honeymoon," from which this extract is taken; it was published in 1805.

SCENE-The Inn. Enter HOSTESS followed by LAMPEDO, a Quack Doctor.

Host. NAY, nay; another fortnight.

Lamp. It can't be.

The man's as well as I am: have some mercy!
He hath been here almost three weeks already.

Host. Well, then, a week.

Lamp. We may detain him a week. (Enter BALTHAZAR.

the patient, from behind, in his nightgown, with a drawn sword.)

You talk now like a reasonable hostess,

That sometimes has a reckoning with her conscience.

Host. He still believes he has an inward bruise.

Lamp. I would to heaven he had! or that he'd slipped
His shoulder blade, or broke a leg or two,
(Not that I bear his person any malice,)
Or luxed an arm, or even sprained his ankle!
Host. Ay, broken anything except his neck.
Lamp. However, for a week I'll manage him,

Though he had the constitution of a horse-
A farrier should prescribe for him.

Balth. A farrier! (Aside.)

Lamp. To-morrow, we phlebotomize again;

Next day, my new-invented patent draught;
Then, I have some pills prepared;

On Thursday, we throw in the bark; on FridayBalth. (Coming forward.) Well, sir, on Friday—what, on Friday? Come,

Proceed.

Lamp. Discovered!

Host. Mercy, noble sir!

Lamp. We crave your mercy!

} They fall on their knees.

Balth. On your knees? 'tis well!
Pray! for your time is short.

Host. Nay, do not kill us.

Balth. You have been tried, condemned, and only wait

For execution. Which shall I begin with?

Lamp. The lady, by all means, sir.

Balth. Come, prepare. (To the hostess.)

Host. Have pity on the weakness of

my sex !

Balth. Tell me, thou quaking mountain of gross flesh,
Tell me, and in a breath, how many poisons-

If you attempt it—(TO LAMPEDO, who is making off) you have cooked up for me?

Host. None, as I hope for mercy!

Balth. Is not thy wine a poison?

Host. No indeed, sir;

'Tis not, I own, of the first quality;
But

Balth. What?

Host. I always give short measure, sir,
And ease my conscience that way.

Balth. Ease your conscience!

Host.

I'll ease your conscience for you.
Mercy, sir!

Balth. Rise, if thou canst, and hear me.

Host. Your commands, sir?

Balth. If, in five minutes, all things are prepared
For my departure, you may yet survive.

Host. It shall be done in less.

Balth. Away, thou lumpfish. (Exit hostess.)

Lamp. So! now comes my turn! 't is all over with me! There's dagger, rope, and ratsbane in his looks! Balth. And now, thou sketch and outline of a man! Thou thing that hast no shadow in the sun!

Thou eel in a consumption, eldest born

Of Death and Famine! thou anatomy

Of a starved pilchard!

Lamp. I do confess my leanness. I am spare,

And, therefore, spare me.

Balth. Why wouldst thou have made me

A thoroughfare, for thy whole shop to pass through?

Lamp. Man, you know, must live.

Balth. Yes: he must die, too.

Lamp. For my patients' sake!

Balth. I'll send you to the major part of them—
The window, sir, is open;-come, prepare.

Lamp. Pray consider!

I may hurt some one in the street. Balth. Why, then,

I'll rattle thee to pieces in a dicebox,

Or grind thee in a coffee mill to powder,

For thou must sup with Pluto:-so, make ready! Whilst I, with this good smallsword for a lancet, Let thy starved spirit out (for blood thou hast none), And nail thee to the wall, where thou shalt look Like a dried beetle with a pin stuck through him. Lamp. Consider my poor wife.

Balth. Thy wife!

Lamp. My wife, sir.

Balth. Hast thou dared think of matrimony, too?
Thou shadow of a man, and base as lean!

Lamp. O spare me for her sake!

I have a wife, and three angelic babes,

Who, by those looks, are well nigh fatherless.

Balth. Well, well! your wife and children shall plead for you.

Come, come; the pills! where are the pills? Pro

duce them.

Lamp. Here is the box.

Balth. Were it Pandora's, and each single pill

Had ten diseases in it, you should take them.

Lamp. What, all?

Balth. Ay, all; and quickly, too. Come, sir, begin(LAMPEDO takes one.) That's well!-Another.

Lamp. One's a dose.

Balth. Proceed, sir.

Lamp. What will become of me?

Let me go home, and set my shop to rights,

And, like immortal Cæsar, die with decency. Balth. Away! and thank thy lucky star I have not Brayed thee in thine own mortar, or exposed thee For a large specimen of the lizard genus. Lamp. Would I were one! -for they can feed on air.

Balth. Home, sir! and be more honest.
Lamp. If I am not,

I'll be more wise, at least.

NOTES.-Pluto, in ancient mythology, the god of the lower

world.

Pandora is described in the Greek legends as the first created woman. She was sent by Jupiter to Epimetheus as a punishment, because the latter's brother, Prometheus, had stolen fire from heaven. When she arrived among men, she opened a box in which were all the evils of mankind, and everything escaped except Hope.

LXIII. RIP VAN WINKLE.

THE appearance of Rip, with his long, grizzled beard, his rusty fowling piece, his uncouth dress, and an army of women and children at his heels, soon attracted the attention of the tavern politicians. They crowded around him, eying him from head to foot with great curiosity. The orator bustled up to him, and, drawing him partly aside, inquired on which side he voted. Rip stared in vacant stupidity. Another short but busy little fellow pulled him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, inquired in his ear "whether he was Federal or Democrat."

Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend the question; when a knowing, self-important old gentleman, in a sharp cocked hat, made his way through the crowd, putting them to the right and left with his elbows as he passed, and planting himself before Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the other resting on his cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrating, as it were, into his very soul, demanded, in an austere tone, what brought him to the election with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels, and whether he meant to breed a riot in the village.