« 上一頁繼續 »
The glowing dames of Zama's royal court
Jub. 'Tis not a set of features, nor complexion,
Syph. How does your tongue grow wanton in her praise!
WOLSEY and CROMWELL,
ARE WEL, a long farewel to all my greatness!
But far beyond my depth; my high-blown pride
Never to rise again.
Why, how now, Cromwell?
Crom. I have not power to speak, Sir.
Wol. What, amazed
At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nay if you weep,
Crom. How does your grace?
Wol. Why, well;
Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
A still and quiet conscience.
The king has cured me; I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders, These ruin'd pillars, out of pity taken
A load would sink a navy, too much honor;
, 'tis a burthen, Cromwell, 'tis a burthen, Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!
Crom. I'm glad your grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have; I'm able now methinks,
Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,
To endure more miseries and greater far,
Than my weak hearted enemies dare offer.
Crom. The heaviest ar.d the worst,
Is your displeasure with the king.
Wol. God bless him!
Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen
Lord Chancellor, in your place.
Wol. That's somewhat sudden
But he's a learned man. May he continue
For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
Crom. That Crammer is returned with welcome
Wol. That's news indeed!
Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne,
Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down; O
The king has gone beyond me; all my glories,
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;
To be thy lord and master. Seek the king,
(I know his noble nature) not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too. Go, Cromwell,
Crom. O my Lord,
Must then leave you? Must I needs forego
Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me, Cromwell,
And sleep in duil cold marble, where mention
Of me must no more be heard, say then, I taught thee:
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not,
Thy God's and truth's: then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'st a blessed Martyr. Serve the king-
There take an inventory of all I have;
And my integrity to heav'n is all
I dare to call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Wol. So I have. Farewel
The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell.
The Quarrel of BRUTUS and CASSIUS.
you have wrong'd me doth appear in this,
Bru. You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case.
That every nice offense should bear its comment.
Cas. I an itching palm!
You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption,
Bru. Remember March; the ides of March remember; Did not great Julius bleed for justice's sake? What villain touch'd 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 these bribes? And sell the mighty meed of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I would rather be a dog and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Ces Brutus, bay not me,
I'll not endure it; you forget yourself,
Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius.
Bru. I say you are not.
Cas. Urge me no more.
I shall forget myself
Have mind upon your health-tempt me no farther.
Cas. Is it 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. Must I endure all this?
Bru. All this? ay more. Fret till your proud heart breaks.
Go tell your servants how choleric you are,
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Cas. Is it come to this?
Bru. You say you are a better soldier;
I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
Cas. You wrong me every way-you wrong me, Brutus. I said, an older soldier, not a better;
Did I say a better?
Bru. If you did, I care not.
Cas. When Cæsar liv'd he durst not thus have mov'd mę. Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him Cas. I durst not?
Cas. What durst not tempt him?
Bru. For your life you durst not.
Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love;
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;