Which you denied me; was that done like Cassius?
Should I have answered Caius Cassius sq?

When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts
Dash him to pieces.

Cas. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Cas. I did not-he was but a fool

That bore my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart.
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 Antony 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. OI could 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 did'st at Cæsar; for I know,

When thou did'st hate him worst, thou loved'st him better
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 the 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. S Murt. The time, the place, our long acquaintance,

IR, I am extremely obliged to you for this honour.

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

Bev. Sir, I have received a letter from you in a very unusual 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 decid ing 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 prin ciple in those who have so tender a conscience that way, to

have as much abhorrence at doing injuries, as-[Turns away abruptly.

Bev. As what?

Myrt. As fear of answering them.

Bev. Mr. Myrtle, I have no fear of answering any injury I have done you; because I have meant you none; for the truth of which I am ready to appeal to any indifferent person, even of your own choosing. But I own I am afraid of doing a wicked action; I mean of shedding your blood, or giving you an opportunity of shedding mine. I am not afraid of you Mr. Myrtle,but I own I am afraid of HIM who gave me this life in trust, on other conditions and with other designs, than that I should hazard or throw it away, because a rash inconsiderate man is pleased to be offended, without knowing whether he is injured or not. No, I will not, for you or any man's humour, commit a known crime; a crime which I cannot repair, or which may in the very act, cut me off from all possibility of repentance.

Myrt. Mr. Bevil, I must tell you, this coolness, this moralizing, shall not cheat me of my love. You may wish to preserve your life that you may possess Lucinda. And I have reason to be indifferent about it, if I am to lose all that from which I expect any joy in life. But I shall first try one means towards recovering her, I mean by showing her what a dauntless hero she has chosen for her protector.

Bev. Show me but the least glimpse of argument, that I am authorised to contend with you at the peril of the life of one of us, and I am ready upon your own terms. If this will not satisfy you, and you will make a lawless assault upon me, I will defend myself as against a ruffian. There is no such terror Mr. Myrtle, in the anger of those who are quickly hot and quickly cold again, they know not how or why. I defy you to show wherein I have wronged you. Myrt. Mr. Bevil, it is easy for you to talk coolly on this occasion. You know not I suppose what it is to love, and from your large fortune, and your specious outward carriage, have it in your power to come, without any trouble or anxiety, to the possession of a woman of honour; you know nothing of what it is to be alarmed, distracted with the terror of losing what is dearer than life. You are happy; your marriage goes on like common business; and in the interim, you have your soft moments of dalliance, your rambling captive,

your Indian princess, your convenient, your ready Indiana. Bev. You have touched me beyond the patience of a man ; and the defence of spotless innocence, will I hope, excuse my accepting your challenge, or at least obliging you to retract your infamous aspersions. I will not, if I can avoid it, shed your blood, nor shall you mine. But Indiana's purity I will defend. Who waits?

Serv. Did you call, Sir?

Bev. Yes, go call a coach.

Serv Sir Mr. Myrtle-gentlemen-you are friendsI am but a servant-but

Bev. Call a coach!

[Exit Servant. [A long pause They walk sullenly about the room]. [Aside.] Shall I, (though provoked beyond sufferance) recover myself at the entrance of a third person, and that my servant too; and shall I not have a due respect for the dictates of my own conscience; for what I owe to the best of fathers, and to the defenceless innocence of my lovely Indiana, whose very life depends on mine.

[To Mr. Myrtle.] I have, thank Heaven, had time to recol lect myself, and have determined to convince you by means I would willingly have avoided, but which yet are preferable to murderous duelling, that I am more innocent of nothing than of rivalling you in the affections of Lucinda. Read this letter, and consider what effect it would have had on you, to have found it about the man you had murdered.

[Myrtle reads.] "I hope it is consistent with the laws a woman ought to impose upon herself, to acknowledge that your manner of declining what has been proposed, of a treaty of marriage in our family, and desiring that the refusal might come from me, is more engaging than the Smithfield courtship of him, whose arms I am in danger of being thrown into, unless your friend exerts himself for our common safety and happiness."-O, I want no more to clear your innocence, my injured worthy friend-I see her dear name at the bottom.-I see that you have been far enough from designing any obstacle to my happiness, while I have been treating my benefactor as my betrayer-O Bevil, with what words shall I—

Bev. There is no need of words. To convince is more than to conquer. If you are but satisfied that I meant you no wrong, all is as it should be.

Myrt. But can you forgive such madness?

Bev. Have not I myself offended? I had almost been as guilty as you, though I had the advantage of you, by knowing what you did not know.

Myrt. That I should be such a precipitate wretch!
Bev. Prithee, no more.

Myrt. How many friends have died by the hands of friends, merely for want of temper! what do I not owe to your superiority of understanding! what a precipice have I escaped! O, my friend! Can you ever forgive-can you ever again look upon me-with an eye of favour?

7

Bev. Why should I not? any man may mistake. Any man may be violent where his love is concerned. I was, myself.

Myrt. O Bevil! You are capable of all that is great, all that is heroic.

A

LXXXIX. PROLOGUE..

S when some peasant, who, to treat his lord,
Brings out his little stock, and decks his hoard
With what his ill-stor'd cupboard will afford,
With awkward bows and ill-plac'd rustic airs,
To make excuses for his feast prepares;

So we, with tremour, mix'd with vast delight,
View the bright audience which appears to-night;
And, conscious of its meanness, hardly dare
To bid you welcome to our homely fare.
Should your applause a confidence impart,
To calm the fears that press the timid heart,
Some hope I cherish, in your smiles I read 'em,
Whate'er our faults, your candour can exceed 'em.

XC. The WORLD compared to a STAGE.

ALL the world's a stage

And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances :
And one man in his time plays many parts;
His acts being seven ages-At first the infant;
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.-
And then the whining school boy, with his satche
And shining morning face, creeping like snail,

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