Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
This day was view'd in open as the Queen,
Going to chapel; and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.

Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down: 0 Cromwell.

The king has gone beyond me; all my glories,
In that one woman, I have lost forever.

No sun shall ever usher forth my honors,
Or gild again the Roble troops that waited
Upon my smiles. Go, get the from me Crom-
well;

I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master. Seck the king, (That sun I pray may never set) I've told him What, and how true thou art; he will advance

thee:

Some little memory of me will stir him,

(I know his noble nature) not to let Thy hopeful service perish too.

Go Cromwell,

Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thy own future safety.

Crom. O my Lord,

Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord;
The King shall have my service; but my pray-

ers,

For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear ine, Cromwell,

And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where mention
Of me must no more be heard, say then, I taught

thee:

Say, Wolsey that once rode the waves of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ;
A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it,
Mark but my fall and that which ruin'd me ;
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;
By that sin fell the angels; how can man then
(Though the image of his maker) hope to win by

it ?.

Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that wait thee!

Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear

not.

Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy Country's,
Thy God's and Truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O
Crom well,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
And prithee lead me in-

Serve the king-

There take an inventory of all I have;
To the last penny, 'tis the king's.

And my integrity to Heav'n is all

My robe,

I dare to call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal,
I serv'd my king, he would not in my age
Have left ine naked to mine enemies.

Crom. Good Sir, have patience.

Wol. So I have. Farewell

The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell.

Speeches in the Roman Senate.

Cato. Fathers! we are once again met in
council;

Cæsar's approach has summon'd us together,
And Rome attends her fate froin our resolves..
How shall we treat this bold, aspiring man?
Success still follows him, and backs his crimes.
Pharsalia gave him Rome. Egypt has since
Receiv'd his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cæsar's.
Why should I mention Jaba's overthrow,
-And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands
Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should de-

cree

What course to take. Our foe advances on us, And envics us even Lybia's sultry deserts. Fathers, pronounce your thoughts.

still fixed

To hold it out and fight it to the last?

Are they

Or, are your hearts subdued at length, and wrought,

By time and ill success to a submission?
Semphronious, speak.

Semphronius. My voice is still for war. Gods! can a Roman senate long debate Which of the two to choose, slavery or death? No-Let us rise at once; gird on our swords, And, at the head of our remaining troops, Attack the foe; break through the thick array Of his throng'd legions; and charge home upon him.

Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest, May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.

Rise, Fathers, rise! Tis Rome demands your help;

Risc, and revenge her slaughtered citizens,

Or share their fate! The corpse of half her scn

ate

Manure the fields of Thessaly, while we
Sit here, deliberating in cold debates :
If we should sacrifice our lives to honor,
Or wear them out in servitude and chains.
Rouse up, for shame! Our brothers of Pharsalia
Point at their wounds, and cry aloud-to battle!
Great Pompey's shade complains that we are
slow;

And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged amongst us.

Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason. True fortitude is scen in great exploits,

That justice warrants and that wisdom guides ;
All else is towering frenzy and distraction.
Are not the lives of those who draw the sword
In Rome's defence, entrusted to our care?

Should we thus lead them to a field of slaughter,
Might not the impartial world, with reason, say
We lavish'd, at our deaths, the blood of thou-
sands,

To grace our fall, and make our ruin glorious? Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion.

Lucius. My thoughts, Imust confess, are turn'd on peace.

Already have our quarrels fill'd the world
With widows and with orphans. Scithia mo urns
Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions
Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome.

'Tis time to sheath the sword, and spare mankind.

It is not Cæsar, but the Gods, my fathers!
The Gods declare against us and repel
our vain attempts. To urge the foe to battle.
(Prompted by blind revenge and wild despair)
Were to refuse the awards of Providence,
And not to rest in heaven's determination.
Already have we shewn our love to Rome:
Now let us shew submission to the Gods.
We took up arms not to revenge ourselves,
But free the commonwealth.

fails,

Arms have no further use.

When this end

Our country's cause,

That drew our swords, now wrests 'em from our

hands,

And bids us not delight in Roman blood
Uaprofitably shed. What men could do

Is done already. Heaven and earth will witness,
If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.

Cato. Let us appear, not rash, nor diffident Immoderate valor swells into a fault; And fear. admitted into public councils, Betrays like treason. Let us shun 'em both.-Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs Are grown thus desperate.

round us.

We have bulwarks

Within our walls are troops inur'd to foil
In Afric heats, and season'd to the sun.
Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us,
Ready to rise at its young prince's call.
While there is hope, do not distrust the Gods ;
But wait, at least, till Cæsar's near approach-
Force us to yield. Twill never be too late