Cass.— . . . . .
There is Antonius, Caesars greatest friend,
A man whose nature tyranny affects,
Whom all the soldiers daily do attend,
As one who nought but to command respects; . . . . . And in my judgment I would thinke it best,
When sacrific’d the proud usurper lyes,
That this seditious enemy of rest
Should fall with him, with whom he first did rise:
Thus, of our liberty we now may lay
A solid ground, which can be shak’t by none; . . . . . Brut.— I cannot, Cassius, condescend to kill,
(Thus from the path of justice to decline)
One faultlesse yet, lest after he prove ill,
So to prevent his guiltinesse by mine;
No, no, that neither honest were, nor just,
Which rigorous forme would but the world affright,
Men by this meane, our meaning might mistrust,
And for a little wrong damne all that’s right:
If we do only kill the common foe,
Our countries zeale must then acquire due praise
But if (like tyrants) fiercely raging so,
We will be thought that which we raze to raise;
And where we but intend to aide the state,
Though by endangering what we hold most deare,
If slaying him (as arm’d by private hate)
We to the world all partiall will appeare. . . . . . Cass.— Well Brutus, I protest against my will,
From this black cloud, whatever tempest fall,
That mercy but most cruelly doth kill,
Which thus saves one, who once may plague us all. Page 279 et seq., Glasgow ed., 1872.
This is not in Grévin, neither is the Brutus-Portia scene. Here again, there are significant points of contact. Alexander’s whole handling of the scene resembles Pescetti’s treatment, while in individual sections the parallels are almost verbal. Portia’s attitude throughout is reminiscent of Pescetti’s delineation. In both dramas the conspiracy is revealed to her; in both she proffers her help; in both she falls back on prayer as her best aid; in both the failure of the plot means her self-destruction.[[130]] She says:
“Though nature, sexe, and education breed
No power in me, with such a purpose even,
I must lend help to this intended deed,
If vows and pray’rs may penetrate the heaven;
But difficulties huge my fancie findes,
Nought, save the successe, can defray my feare:
‘Ah! fortune alwayes frownes on worthy mindes
As hating all who trust in ought save her.’