Ges. You look upon your boy

As though instinctively you guess'd it.

Tell. Look

Upon my boy!

What mean you? Look upon

My boy as though I guess'd it! Guess'd the trial You'd have me make! Guess'd it

Instinctively! You do not mean

-No-No

Tell. No! I'll send the arrow through the core !

Murder his child with his own hand!

The hand I've led him, when an infant, by!

Amazement! 'Tis too much for flesh and blood

To bear- men should be made of steel to stand it :

And I believe I am myself about

To turn to some such thing; for feeling grows
Benumb'd within me, that I seem to lose
Almost the power of hating him, and keep
A calm, when heaven and earth give warrant for
A tempest. What's that you've done to me?
Villains! put on my chains again. My hands
Are free from blood; and have no gust for it

That they should drink my child's! — Here ! — Here! — I'll not Murder my boy for Gesler.

The arrow through thy brain—or, missing that,
Shoot out an eye — or, if thine eye escapes,
Mangle the cheek I've seen thy mother's lips
Cover with kisses! Hit thee! — Hit a hair
Of thee, and cleave thy mother's heart. Who's he
Asks me to do it? - Show him me, the monster;
Make him perceptible unto my reason

And heart! In vain my senses vouch for him ;

I hear he lives- I see it - but it is

A prodigy that nature can't believe !
Ges. Dost thou consent?

Tell. Give me my bow and quiver.
Ges. For what?

Tell. To shoot my boy!

Alb. No, father! no,

To save me! - You'll be sure to hit the apple.

Will you not save me, father?

Tell. Lead me forth

I'll make the trial!

Alb. Thank you!

Tell. Thank me! You know for what?

- Do

- I will not make the trial,

To take him to his mother in my arms,

And lay him down a corpse before her !
Ges. Then

He dies this moment; and you certainly

Do murder him, whose life you have a chance
To save, and will not use it.

Tell. Well I'll do it :

I'll make the trial.

Alb. Father!

Tell. Speak not to me :

Let me not hear thy voice- thou must be dumb;

And so should all things be — earth should be dumb!
And heaven unless its thunders mutter'd at

The deed, and sent a bolt to stop it! Give me

Val. I come not as a herald, but a friend:

And I rejoice that Didius chose out me

To greet a prince in my esteem the foremost.

Van. So much for words. Now to your purpose, tribune.

Val. Sent by our new lieutenant, who in Rome

And since from me has heard of your renown,

I come to offer peace; to reconcile

Past enmities; to strike perpetual league
With Vanoc; whom our emperor invites

To terms of friendship, strictest bonds of union.

Van. We must not hold a friendship with the Roman.
Val. Why must you not?

Van. Virtue forbids it.

Val. Once

You thought our friendship was your greatest glory.

Van. I thought you honest.

-I have been deceived. Would you deceive me twice? No, tribune; no!

-

You sought for war, — maintain it as you may.
Val. Believe me, prince, your vehemence of spirit,
Prone ever to extremes, betrays your judgment.
Would you once coolly reason on our conduct

Van. Oh I have scann'd it thoroughly

I think it over, and I think it base;

night and day

Most infamous! let who will judge—but Romans.
Did not my wife, did not my menial servant
Seducing each the other, both conspire
Against my crown, against my fame, my life?
Did they not levy war and wage rebellion?
And when I would assert my right and power
As king and husband, when I would chastise
Two most abandon'd wretches who but Romans
Opposed my justice, and maintain'd their crimes?

Val. At first the Romans did not interpose,
But grieved to see their best allies at variance.
Indeed when you turn'd justice into rigor,
And ev❜n that rigor was pursued with fury,
We undertook to mediate for the queen,
And hoped to moderate-

Van. To moderate !

What would you moderate?—my indignation;

The just resentment of a virtuous mind?

To mediate for the queen!
Wherein concern'd it you?

- You undertook?

But as you love

To exercise your insolence! Are you

To arbitrate my wrongs? Must I ask leave,
Must I be taught to govern my own household?
Am I then void of reason and of justice?

When in my family offences rise,

Shall strangers, saucy intermeddlers, say,
Thus far, and thus you are allow'd to punish?
When I submit to such indignities;

When I am tam'd to that degree of slavery
Make me a citizen, a senator of Rome,

To watch, to live upon the smile of Claudius;
To give my wife and children to his pleasures,
To sell my country with my voice for bread.
Val. Prince, you insult upon this day's success,
You may provoke too far― but I am cool-
I give your answer scope.

Van. Who shall confine it?

The Romans? - let them rule their slaves - I blush,
That, dazzled in my youth with ostentation,

The trappings of the men seduced my virtue.

Val. Blush rather that you are a slave to passion:

Subservient to the wildness of your will;

Which, like a whirlwind, tears up all your virtues,

And gives you not the leisure to consider.

Did not the Romans civilize you?

Van. No. They brought new customs and new vices over,

Taught us more arts than honest men require,

And gave us wants that nature never knew.

Val. We found you naked

Van. And you found us free.

Val. Would you be temperate once, and hear me out

Van. Speak things that honest men may hear with temper,

Speak the plain truth, and varnish not your crimes.

Say that you once were virtuous — long ago

A frugal hardy people, like the Britons,
Before you grew thus elegant in vice,