you

sorry

for.

Bru. You have done what shall be
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,
That they pass by 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 Heav'n I'd 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 legions,

Which you deny'd me: 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 thunderbolts,
Dash him to pieces.

Cas. I deny'd you not.

Bru. You did.

Cas. I did not-he was but a fool

That brought 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, though 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 by a bondman; all his faults observ'd;
Set in a note book, learn'd and conn'd by rote
To cast into my teeth. O I 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 the gold, will give my heart:
Strike, as thou didst at Cæsar; for I know,
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dst him better
Than ever thou lov'dst 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, shews a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again..

Cas. Hath Cassius lived

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief and blood ill-temper'd vexeth 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.

Pet.

Scene between Lord Peter, Martin, and Jack.*

B

READ, gentlemen, bread is the staff of life. In bread is contained the quintessence of beef, mutton, veal, venison, partridges, plum-pudding and custard; and thro' the whole is diffused a wholesome and fermented liquor. Therefore he who eats bread at the same time eats the best of food and drinks the best of liquors. Come on, brothers, the cause is good, fall to and spare not. Here is a shoulder of excellent muttont

as ever was cut with a knife.

But now my hand is in, I'll help you myself. Young people are bashful. Come, brother Martin, let me help you to this slice. Mar. My lord I doubt with great submission, here is some little mistake.

Pet. What, you are merry? Come then, let us hear this jest your head is so big with.

Mar. No jest, indeed, my lord. But unless I am very much deceived, your lordship was pleased a little while ago, to drop

*

By Peter is meant the Pope; by Martin, the Lutheran Church; by Jack, the Calvinists.

This conversation

+ Pointing to a brown loaf on the table. is supposed to be at table, where the speakers ought to sit, in order to perform to the life. But this may be dispensed with, as my design is to teach children to read and speak, rather

than to act.

a word about mutton, and I should be glad to see it upon the table.

Pet. How! I don't comprehend you.

Jack. Why my lord, my brother Martin, I suppose is hungry, and longs to see the shoulder of mutton, you spoke of, come to the table.

Pet. Pray explain yourselves, gentlemen. Either you are both out of your wits, or are disposed to be merry a little unseasonably. You had better keep your jokes till after dinner.

Mar. What then, my lord, is this brown loaf a shoulder of mutton all this while?

Pet. Pray leave off your inpertinence and eat your victuals, if you please, I am not disposed to relish your wit at present.

Mar. Well, my lord, may I be soused over head and ears in a horse pond, if it seems to my eyes, my fingers, or my nose, either less or more, than a slice of stale sixpenny brown loaf.

Jack. If ever I saw a shoulder of mutton in my life look so like a sixpenny brown loaf, I am an old basket woman.

Pet. Look you gentleman, to convince you what a couple of blind positive ignorant puppies you are, I will use but one plain argument. May you both be eternally miserable, if you don't believe this to be a shoulder of as good mutton as ever was sold în market.

Mar. Why, truly upon more mature consideration.

Jack. Why, ay, now I have thought more of the matter, your lordship seems to be in the right.

Pet. O now you are come to yourselves.. Boy fill me a bumper of claret. Come, brothers, here is a good health to you both. Mar. and Jack. Thank your good lordship, and shall be glad to pledge you.

Pet. That you shall, my boys. I am not a man to refuse any thing in reason. A moderate glass of wine is a cordial. There* is a bumper a piece for you. True natural juice of the grape. None of your nasty balderdash vintner's brewing. What now are you at your doubts again? Here boy, call neighbour Dominic, the blacksmith, here. Bid him bring his tongs with him. Red hot, d'ye hear? I'll teach you to doubt.

Mar. Come, Jack, this house is likely to be too hot for you and me. He is quite raving mad. Let's get away|| as fast as we can, Jack. A plague on his crazy head. If ever I put my nose within his door again, may it be pinched off in good earnest.

*Giving each of them a crust.

† Observing them to stare.

St. Dominic, the incentor of the inquisition.
Separation of the Protestant from the Roman Church.

1

Bev.

Bevil and Myrtle.

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

Myr. The time, the place, our long acquaintance, 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 forgotten the contents of your epistle.

Myr. 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. Myr. 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 principle upon that point: and you have often heard me express my disapprobation of that savage manner of deciding quarrels, which tyrannical custom has introduced, to the breach of all laws, both divine and human.

Myr. Mr. Bevil, Mr. Bevil! It would be a good first principle, 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!

Myr. 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, cold. 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 and 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.

Myr. Mr. Bevil, I must tell you, this coolness, this morali

zing, 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 shewing her what a dauntless hero she has chosen for her protector.

Bev. You have touched me beyond the patience of a man; and the defence of spotless innocence, will, I hope, excuse my excepting your challenge, or at least my obliging you to retract 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?

Servant. Did you call, Sir?

Bev. Yes, go call a coach.

Servant. Sir-Mr. Myrtle-gentlemen-you are friends-I am but a servant-but

Bev. Call a coach.

[A long pause.

[Exit Serv.] They walk sullenly about the room. A side. 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.] Read this letter; and consider, what effect it would have had upon 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 man"ner 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 66 "'exerts himself for our common safety and happiness."-O, I want no more, to clear your innocence, my injured worthy friend. 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.

-forgive

Myr. But can you-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.

END OF THE APPENDIX.