When highly born and meanly-minded nobles Seeks not the ocean, than a sensual race [Shouts.] Ha! What shouts are these? 'Tis from the citadel Speak, Lucullus, what has befallen? [Enter Lucullus.] Lucullus. Have you heard the news? Da. What news? Luc. As through the streets I passed, the people Said that the citadel was in the hands In Dionysius' hands? What dost thou tell me? How, wherefore,-when? In Dionysius' hands! The traitor Dionysius! Speak, Lucullus, And quickly. Luc. It was said, that by rude force, Da. I am thunder stricken! The citadel assaulted, and the armory [Exit.] In that fierce soldier's power! [Shouts.] Again! By all The gods on high Olympus, I behold [Enter Procles and Soldiers.] Soldiers. For Dionysius! Ho! Da. Silence!Obstreperous traitors! And thou, who standest foremost of these knaves, What have you done? Proc. But that I know 'twill gall thee, Da. Patience, ye good gods! a moment's patience, That these too ready hands may not enforce The desperate precept of my rising heart— Thou most contemptible and meanest tool Proc. Do you hear him, soldiers? I brand thee for a liar and a traitor ! Da. Audacious slave ! Proc. Upon him, soldiers, Hew him to pieces! [Enter Pythias, as they rush on Damon.] Pythias. Back, on your lives! Cowards, treacherous cowards, back! I say! Do you know me? Look upon me: Do you know I am his sword, shield, helm; I but enclose Da. False hearted cravens ! We are but two-my Pythias, my halved heart- Who had deemed To find thee here from Agrigentum ? [Soldiers advance.] Pyth. Off! off! villains, off! Why, Procles,-art thou not ashamed-for I, To rush in coward numbers? Fie upon thee! Proc. For thy sake, Who art a warrior like ourselves, we spare him. Come, teach him better manners. Soldiers, on,- Pyth. (To Damon.) Art thou safe From these infuriate stabbers? Da. Thanks to thee, I am safe, my gallant soldier and fast friend: Pyth. I have won leave to spend some interval From the fierce war, and come to Syracuse, With purpose to espouse the fair Calanthe. The gods have led me hither, since I come In time to rescue thee. How grew this rude broil up? Da. Things go on here Most execrably, Pythias. But you are come Pyth. To-morrow, I call the fair Calanthe, wife. Da. Then, Pythias, I will not shade the prospect of your joys For one that has a mistress, and would wed her To feed the flarings of our liberty. I will not make thee a participant A sober judgment, and the very mask Uncovered front of tyranny.-Farewell!-Shiel. Dionysius, king of Sicily, was a tyrant. He reigned over the island of Sicily 40 years, and died 336 years before Christ. One great reason why he was unhappy in the midst of all the treasures and honors, with which royalty furnished him, arises from the consideration, that he was a stranger to that purity of motive which created the disintersted and undying friendship that subsisted between Damon and Pythias. The ty rant believed that self-interest is the sole mover of human actions, until he was taught better by witnessing this example of sacred and immortal friendship. ISABELLA, PLEADING BEFORE ANGELO, LORD DEPUTY OF VIENNA, FOR THE LIFE OF RER CONDEMNED BROTHER, CLAUDIO. ANGELO, ISABELLA, AND LUCIO. Isabella. I am a woful suitor to your honor; Please but your honor hear me. Angelo. Well; what's your suit? Isab. There is a vice, that most I do abhor, And most desire should meet the blow of justice, For which I would not plead, but that I must; For which I must not plead, but that I am At war, 'twixt will, and will not. Ang, Well, the matter, the matter? Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die : I do beseech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother. Ang. Condemn the fault and not the actor of it! Why, every fault's condemned, ere it be done : |