Cor. I'll give my reasons, More worthier than their voices. They know the corn Was not our recompense ;-let deeds express What's like to be their words :-" We did request it; They gave us our demands :"-Thus we debase Break ope the locks o' the senate, and bring in Men. Come, enough. Bru. Enough, with over measure. Sic. He has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer As traitors do. Cor. Thou wretch! Despite o'erwhelm thee! What should the people do with these bold tribunes ; On whom depending, their obedience fails To the greater bench: In a rebellion, When what's not meet, but what must be, was law, Then were they chosen; in a better hour, Let what is meet be said, it must be meet, And throw their power i' the dust. Bru. Manifest treason! Sic. We charge you that you have contrived to take From Rome all seasoned office, and to wind Yourself into a power tyrannical; For which you are a traitor to the people. Men. Nay; temperately: your promise. Cor. Call me their traitor !-Thou injurious tribune! Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in Sic. Peace! We need not put new matter to his charge: Bru. But since he hath served well for Rome,- Bru. I talk of that, that know it. Cor. You? Men. Is this the promise that you made your mother? Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, (As much as in him lies), from time to time, That do distribute it. In the name o' the people, In peril of precipitation From off the rock Tarpeian, never more To enter our Rome gates; i' the people's name, Men. Hear me, my masters and my common friends Bru. There's no more to be said, but he is banished, As enemy to the people and his country: It shall be so. Cor. You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reck o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcases of unburied men That do corrupt my air, I banish you; For you, the city, thus I turn my back: SHAKESPERE. DOUGLAS. GLENALVON, NORVAL, etc. Glen. His port I love: he's in a proper mood [Aside. To chide the thunder if at him it roared. Has Norval seen the troops ? Norv. The setting sun With yellow radiance lightened all the vale, Glen. Thou talk'st it well; no leader of our host, Norv. If I should e'er acquire a leader's name Now prompts my tongue, and youthful admiration Of praise pertaining to the great in arms. Glen. You wrong yourself, brave sir, your martial deeds Let me, who know these soldiers, counsel you. Norv. Sir, I have been accustomed all my days Me of my birth obscure? Why slur my power Glen. I did not mean To gall your pride, which now I see is great. Glen. Suppress it as you wish to prosper; If thus you swell, and frown at high-born men, Glen. Yes, if you presume To bend on soldiers those disdainful eyes What will become of you? Norv. Hast thou no fears for thy presumptuous self? Glen. Ha! dost thou threaten me? Norv. Didst thou not hear? Glen. Unwillingly I did; a nobler foe Had not been questioned thus; but such as thee— Glen. Norval. Norv. So I am— And who is Norval in Glenalvon's eyes? Glen. A peasant's son, a wandering beggar boy; At best no more, even if he speaks the truth. Norv. False as thou art, dost thou suspect my truth? I have no tongue to rail. The humble Norval Did I not fear to freeze thy shallow valour, And make thee sink too soon beneath my sword, I'd tell thee-what thou art. I know thee well. Glen. Dost thou not know Glenalvon, born to command Ten thousand slaves like thee? Norv. Villain, no more! Draw and defend thy life. I did design To have defied thee in another cause; But heaven accelerates its vengeance on thee. Now for my own and Lady Randolph's wrongs. Enter LORD RANDOLPH. Lord Rand. Hold! I command you both! the man that stirs Makes me his foe. Norv. Another voice than thine, That threat had vainly sounded, noble Randolph. Glen. Hear him, my Lord; he's wondrous condescending! Mark the humility of shepherd Norval! Norv. Now you may scoff in safety. Taunting each other, but unfold to me The cause of quarrel; then I judge betwixt you. I owe a subject's homage; but even him Hence as he came, but not dishonoured! Lord Rand. Thus far I'll mediate with impartial voice; The ancient foe of Caledonia's land Now waves his banner o'er her frighted fields; Suspend your purpose till your country's arms The private quarrel. Glen. I agree to this. Norv. And I. Glen. Norval, Let not our variance mar the social hour. Nor wrong the hospitality of Randolph Shall stain my countenance. Smooth thou thy brow; Norv. Think not so lightly, sir, of my resentment; Номе. |