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Alexander Pope [1723], [The tragedy of Marcus Brutus: With the prologue and the Two Last chorus's. Written by his Grace John Duke of Buckingham, in] The works of John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave, Marquis of Normanby, and Duke of Buckingham (Printed by John Barber, Alderman of London, London) [word count] [S39102].
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SCENE III. Enter Lucilius.

LUCILIUS.
Base Villany is seldom at a stand,
But still proceeding on to greater Mischief:

-- 399 --


From murd'ring Senators at Rome, they now
Lift their aspiring Treachery to Brutus.
The wise Athenians, watchful of your Safety,
Have newly seiz'd a Slave in foul Disguise;
Who on the Rack confesses all the Crime.
“Hie thee to Athens (said the base Octavius)
“And save thy Master, save us all, save Rome,
“Go purchase Fame and Freedom by a Blow:
“Our Foes are all united in that Brutus;
“He, he alone inspir'd the Death of Cæsar.
“Be desperate, be secret, and be rich.

BRUTUS.
I pity the poor Wretch; he knows no better.
At his Return, how would his Master grieve
To find me safer here, than he at Rome.
He does but shoot these Arrows in the Air.

LUCILIUS.
Except at Rome infected by our Foes,
Virtue like yours, is ev'ry where secure,

-- 400 --


And claims the just Protection of Mankind.

JUNIA.
Your Life is so important,
Youths quit their Pleasures, Soldiers slight their Pay,
Ev'n Misers leave their Wealth to watch your Safety

BRUTUS.
Let go the Slave to tell Octavius this.

LUCILIUS.
What, save that Wretch?

BRUTUS.
Both save, and let him go.
In this Attempt he but obey'd his Master. (Exit Lucilius.
Oh that there were no Romans worse than he!
This Slave would kill; but 'tis to get his Freedom!
But ah! ev'n Senators are growing Slaves,
Careless of Honour, void of Honesty,
Forgetting all their noble Ancestors,
And ruining a glorious Commonwealth!

-- 401 --

Enter Titinius and Lucilius again.

TITINIUS.
Cassius has sent me here with this Reply,
He wants that Gold himself, which you would borrow;
Of which, at meeting, you shall have account.
These Letters I have brought for noble Junia.
(Junia goes out with the Letters.

LUCILIUS.
Your Legions then must stay till his are paid.

BRUTUS.
Think not the worst, Lucilius, e'er it comes.
At Sardis we shall meet by break of Day.
I'll take one Hour's repose, and then for Sardis.
Good Night to both.

LUCILIUS.
Rest to your noble Thoughts.
(Exeunt.

-- 402 --

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Alexander Pope [1723], [The tragedy of Marcus Brutus: With the prologue and the Two Last chorus's. Written by his Grace John Duke of Buckingham, in] The works of John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave, Marquis of Normanby, and Duke of Buckingham (Printed by John Barber, Alderman of London, London) [word count] [S39102].
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