The traitor to Humanity is the traitor most accursed;
Man is more than Constitutions; better rot beneath the sod,
read more

The traitor to Humanity is the traitor most accursed;
Man is more than Constitutions; better rot beneath the sod,
Than be true to Church and State while we are doubly false to
God.

Rebellion must be managed with many swords; treason to his
prince's person may be with one knife.

Rebellion must be managed with many swords; treason to his
prince's person may be with one knife.

Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, read more

Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses,
Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroyed his country; and his name remains
To th' ensuing age abhorred,' Speak to me son.
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honor,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
And yet to change thy sulphur with a bolt
That should rive an oak.

He [Caesar] loved the treason, but hated the traitor.

He [Caesar] loved the treason, but hated the traitor.

Some guard these traitors to the block of death,
Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath.

Some guard these traitors to the block of death,
Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath.

Thou art a traitor.
Off with his head! Now by Saint Paul I swear
I will not read more

Thou art a traitor.
Off with his head! Now by Saint Paul I swear
I will not dine until I see the same.

Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in read more

Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in a natural cause
That admiration did not whoop at them;
But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in
Wonder to wait on treason and on murder;
And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
That wrought upon thee so preposterously
Hath got the voice in hell for excellence.

Is there not some chosen curse,
Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven,
Red with uncommon read more

Is there not some chosen curse,
Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven,
Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man
Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin?

If this be treason, make the most of it!

If this be treason, make the most of it!