Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thy own future safety.
Crom. O my Lord,

Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord:
The king shall have my service: But, my prayers,
For ever and for ever shall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries: but thou hast forced me,
Out of thy honest truth to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me Cromwell,
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where mention
Of me must no more be heard, say then, I taught thee:
Say, Wolsey, that once rode the waves of glory,
And sounded all the depth and shoals of honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ;
A sure and safe one, tho' thy master miss'd it.
Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd me:
Cromwell, I charge thee fling away ambition;
By that sin fell the angels; how can man then
(Tho' the image of his Maker) hope to win by it.
Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that wait thee!
Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not;
Let all the ends thou aimest at, be thy country's,

Thy God's and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king-

And prithee lead me in

There take an inventory of all I have;

To the last penny, 'tis the king's.

And my integrity to heav'n is all

My robe,

I dare to call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'd my king, he would not, in my age,
Have me left naked to mine enemies.

Crom. Good Sir, have patience.

Wol. So I have. Farewell

The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven to dwell.

Cas.

LXXXVII. The QUARREL of BRUTUS and CASSIUS. HAT you have wrong'd me doth a appear in this, You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella,

For taking bribes here of the Sardians;

Wherein my letter (praying on his side,
Because I knew the man) was slighted of.
Bru. You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case.
Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear its comment.
Bru. Yet let me tell you Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm
To sell and mart your offices for gold,
To undeservers.

Gas. I an itching palm!

You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
Or be assured that speech were else your last.
Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption,
And chastisment doth therefore hide its head.

Cas. Chastisement!

Bru. Remember March; the ides of March remember; Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?

What villain touch'd his body that did stab,
And not for justice? What, shall one of us,
That struck the foremost man in all this world
But for supporting robbers; shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes?
And sell the mighty meed of our large honours:
For so much trash as

ay be grasped thus?

I would 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 Cassius.
Cas. I am

Bru. I say you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more. I shall forget myselfHave mind upon your health-tempt me no farther. Bru. Away, slight man!

Cas. Is it possible?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Must give way to your rash choler?

Shall I be frightened when a madman stares ?

Cas. Must I endure all this!

Bru. All this! ay more. Fret till your proud heart breaks. Go tell 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 humour? Be assured,
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Th' it do split you! for, from this day forth
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.

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 my own part,

I shall be glad to fearn of noble men.

Cas. You wrong me every way-you wrong me, Brutus. Did I say a better?

Bru. If you did I care not.

Cas. When Cæsar lived he durst not thus have mov'd 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 what I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done what you shall be sorry for.
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats:
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty

That they pass 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 drachms, than to wring
From the hard hand of peasants, their vile trash,
By any indirection. I did send

To you for gold to pay my legion,

Which you denied; was that done like Cassius?
Should I have answered Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, Gods, with all your thunder-bolts,
Dash him to pieces.

Cas. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Cas. I did not he was but a fool

my

That bore my answer back. Brutus hath rived
A friend should bear a friend's infirmities;
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Bru. I do not. Still
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, tho' they do Appear as huge as high Olympus.

Cas. Come Anthony and young Octavius! come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,

For Cassius is a-weary of the world:

Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observed,
Set in a note book, learn'd and conn'd by rote,
To cast into his teeth. O could I weep
My spirit from my eyes! There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast-within a heart,
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold!
If that thou need'st a Roman's take it forth.
I that denied thee gold, will give my heart.
Strike as thou didst at Cæsar; for I know,

heart.

When thou did'st hate him worst, thou loved'st him bette Than ever thou loved'st Cassius.

Bru. Sheath your dagger;

Be angry when you will it shall have scope:
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius you are yoked with a lamb,

That carries anger as a flint bears fire;
Which, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And strait is cool again.

Cas. Hath Cassius lived

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,

When grief, and blood ill-temper'd vexed him?
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd 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 humour 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.

LXXXVIII. BEVIL and MYRTLE.

Bev. SIR, I am extremely obliged to you for this honour. Myrt. The time, the place, our long acquaintance,

and many other circumstances, which affect me on this oc, casion, obtige me, without ceremony or conference, to desire, that you will comply with the request in my letter, of which you have lately acknowledged the receipt.

in

a very un

Bev. Sir, I have received a letter from you usual style. But as I am conscious of the integrity of my behaviour with respect to you, and intend that every thing in this matter shall be your own seeking, I shall understand nothing but what you are pleased to confirm face to face. You are therefore to take it for granted, that I have forgot the contents of your epistle.

Myrt. Your cool behaviour, Mr. Bevil, is agreeable to the unworthy use you have made of my simplicity and. frankness to you. And I see your moderation tends to your own advantage, not mine; to your own safety, not to justice for the wrongs you have done your friend. Bev. My own safety! Mr. Myrtle. Myrt. Your own safety, Mr. Bevil.

Bev. Mr. Myrtle, there is no disguising any longer that I understand what you would force me to. You know my principles upon that point; and you have often heard me express my disapprobation of the savage manner of deciding quarrels, which tyrannical custom has introduced, to the breach of all laws both divine and human.

Myrt Mr. Bevil, Mr. Bevil! It would be a good first principle in those who have so tender a conscience that way,