And at the head of your own little senate; With all the mouths of Rome to second you. Cato. Let him consider that, who drives us hither. "Tis Cæsar's sword has made Rome's senate little, And thinn'd its ranks. Alas! thy dazzled eye Which conquest and success have thrown upon him; With murder, treason, sacrilege, and crimes That strike my soul with horror but to name them. Dec. Does Cato send this answer back to Cæsar, Dec. Your high unconquered heart makes you forget You are a man. But I have done. When I relate hereafter The tale of this unhappy embassy, All Rome will be in tears. ADDISON. VIRGINIUS, VIRGINIA, AND SERVIA Virginius. And is this all you have observed? I think There's nothing strange in that. An L and I Twined with a V. Three very innocent letters To have bred such mischief in thy brain, good Servia! Come read this riddle to me. Servia. You may laugh, Virginius, but I'll read the riddle right. The L doth stand for Lucius; and the I, Vir. So it will, good Servia. Ser. Then, for the V, why, that is plain Virginia. Ser. What should I find but love? The maid's in love, And it is with Icilius. Look, the wreath Is made of roses, that entwines the letters. Ser. And is it not enough? You'll find this figuring where'er you look. Vir. Go, send her to me Stay! have you spoken to her of it? Ser. I not I, indeed; I left that task to you - She had good reason! Vir. Send her to me, Servia. (Exit Servia.) There's something here, that looks as it would bring me Anticipation of my wish. I think Icilius loves my daughter-nay, I know it; And such a man I'd challenge for her husband; And only waited, till her forward spring Spontaneous, and, unlooked for, woos our hand [Enter Virginia.] Virginia. Well, father, what's your will? To ask you of your tasks — how they go on — The truant? Virginia. The truant! No indeed, Virginius. Virginia. O my father, I am so happy, when you're kind to me! Vir. You are so happy when I'm kind to you! Am I not always kind? I never spoke An angry word to you in all my life. Virginia! you are happy when I'm kind! That's strange; and makes me think you have some reason To fear I may be otherwise than kind Is't so my girl? Virginia. Indeed I did not know What I was saying to you! Vir. Why, that's worse And worse! What! when you said your father's kindness Made you so happy, am I to believe You were not thinking of him? Virginia. I — (Greatly confused.) The latest task you did. (Exit Virginia.) Her artless speech, like crystal, shows the thing KNOWLES. SCENES FROM WILLIAM TELL. Tell. That's scarce a miss that comes so near the mark! Such strength did lodge in them? Well aim'd again! Living to see that day! — What, Albert ! How long 'would be ere noon would come! You're come How soon 'twill now be here and gone! O, William, When you are absent from me, I count time And are you well? and has the chase prov'd good? Tell. No; I did partake A herdsman's meal, upon whose lonely chalet I chanced to light. I've had bad sport; my track Lay with the wind, which to the start❜lish game Betray'd me still. One only prize; and that I gave mine humble host. You raise the bow Too fast. Bring't slowly to the eye — You've miss'd How often have you hit the mark to-day? Alb. Not once yet. Tell. You're not steady. I perceived You waver'd now. Stand firm! - let every limb Be braced as marble, and as motionless. Stand like the sculptor's statue on the gate Emma. William! William ! - O! To be the parents of a boy like that! Why speak you not and wherefore do you sigh? What's in your heart to keep the transport out That fills up mine, when looking on our child Tell. You've miss'd again! Dost see the mark! Rivet your eye to it! There let it stick, fast as the arrow would |