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XVI.

HÂTIM THE GIVER.

BY EDWIN ARNOLD.'

"TIS told of Hâtim how once he owned a steed
Swift-flying as the driving cloud, night-black,
With neigh of thunder, scattering in his stride
The desert-stones, as that thou wouldst have asked
"Is this a hail-storm breaks?" So fleet a steed
Men said the wind lagged after him; the foam
Blown from his scarlet nostrils lacked full time
To fleck the dust ere those strong clattering hoofs
Passed forth from ear-shot. And the fame of this--

Of Hâtim and his steed-came to Roum,
Into the Sultan's ear; for one had said,
"No man is like to him for open hand,
And nowhere such a horse to bear such man!"
Then to his Vazir' spake the King of Roum:
"Claim without proof is shame! let people go
And ask that horse from Hâtim; if he gives,
On wish of friendly liege, what best he hath,
Then shall men know that liberality
Rules perfect in his breast; but if he grudge,
This talk o' the world is but a drum-skin beat."

So, to the tribe of Tai the envoy went
With ten to guard him; and at Hâtim's camp,
After long travel, and sore times of strait,
Late, on a night of evil weather, lighted,

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As glad as who comes parched to Zinda's banks. The chief's green tents were pitched amidst the waste,

The herds were far, the grain sacks empty, guests Nowise awaited. Not the less, with cheer Goodly and free the stranger folk were fed; Full trays were served under the sheltering cloth, Roast meat and boiled meat, pillaw and kabâb: Sweetmeats he tied them in their skirts, and gave Cakes in their hands; and all night long they slept Safe upon Hâtim's carpets. When 'twas day The Sultan's envoy spoke his lord's desire, Saying with honeyed phrase, as one afeared, "O Giver of the Age! whose fame flies wide For lordliness of heart and open hand!

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My master bids me ask thy steed from thee-
That wondrous horse, night-black, swifter than wind,
Which, if thou givest, liberality

Rules perfect in thy heart, but if thou grudge,

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He saith this talk o' the earth is drum-skin noise." 20

But while the Sultan's messenger said this,
With forehead on the tent floor, and fair words,
Hâtim sat mute, gnawing the hand of Thought
With teeth of Lamentation. Presently

Outbrake he: "Would to God, Friend of my Tribe,
Thy message had been uttered overnight!
The rain beat, and the torrents ran death-deep
Between my tents and where our pastures spread;
No ox, nor goat, nor camel was in camp;
What should I do? How could I, being I,
Suffer my guests to sleep all hunger-racked?
How could I, being I, whose name is known,
Spare what was dearest, honor being more?

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Look you that Horse-my Friend! my Joy! my

Wealth!

That Duldul, who could leave the hawk behind,
Between whose hoofs I slept as in safe tent,
Black as a starless night, with mouth of silk—
I killed him for your suppers, tell the King!"

But when the Sultan heard this thing he cried:
"None is like Hâtim! I would pawn half Roum
To buy black Duldul's life for him again.”

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XVII.

THE ASSASSINATION OF CÆSAR.

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SIXTY senators, in all, were parties to the immediate 10 conspiracy. Of these, nine-tenths were members of the old faction whom Cæsar2 had pardoned, and who, of all his acts, resented most that he had been able to pardon them. They were the men who had stayed at home, like Cicero, from the fields of Thapsus and Munda, and 15 had pretended penitence and submission that they might take an easier road to rid themselves of their enemy. Their motives were the ambition of their order and personal hatred of Cæsar; but they persuaded themselves that they were animated by patriotism, and as in their hands the republic had been a mockery of liberty, so they aimed at restoring it by a mock tyrannicide. Their oaths and their professions were nothing to them. If they were entitled to kill Cæsar, they were entitled

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equally to deceive him. No stronger evidence is needed of the demoralization of the Roman Senate than the completeness with which they were able to disguise from themselves the baseness of their treachery. One man only they were able to attract into co-operation who had a reputation for honesty, and could be conceived, without absurdity, to be animated by a disinter

ested purpose.

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Marcus Brutus was the son of Cato's sister, Servilia. He had married Cato's daughter, Portia, and on Cato's 10 death had published a eulogy upon him. Cæsar left him free to think and write what he pleased. He had made him prætor; he had nominated him to the governorship of Macedonia. Brutus was perhaps the only member of the senatorial party in whom Cæsar felt gen-15 uine confidence. His known integrity, and Cæsar's acknowledged regard for him, made his accession to the conspiracy an object of particular importance. The name of Brutus would be a guarantee to the people of rectitude of intention. Brutus, as the world went, was 20 of more than average honesty. He had sworn to be faithful to Cæsar, as the rest had sworn, and an oath with him was not a thing to be emotionalized away; but he was a fanatical republican, a man of gloomy habits, given to dreams and omens, and easily liable to be 25 influenced by appeals to visionary feelings. Caius Cassius, his brother-in-law, was employed to work upon him. Cassius, too, was prætor that year, having been also nominated to office by Cæsar. He knew Brutus, he knew where and how to move him. He reminded 30 him of the great traditions of his name. A Brutus had delivered Rome from the Tarquins." The blood of a Brutus was consecrated to liberty. This, too, was mockery; Brutus, who expelled the Tarquins, put his sons to death,

and died childless; Marcus Brutus came of good plebeian family with no glories of tyrannicide about them; but an imaginary genealogy suited well with the spurious heroics which veiled the motives of Cæsar's murderers.

Brutus, once wrought upon, became, with Cassius, the most ardent in the cause which assumed the aspect to him of a sacred duty. Behind them were the crowd of senators of the familiar faction, and others worse than they, who had not even the excuse of having been partisans of the beaten cause; men who had fought at 10 Cæsar's side till the war was over, and believed, like Labienus, that to them Cæsar owed his fortune, and that he alone ought not to reap the harvest. . . . So composed was this memorable band, to whom was to fall the bad distinction of completing the ruin of the senatorial rule. 15 The profligacy and avarice, the cynical disregard of obligation, which had marked the Senate's supremacy for a century, had exhibited abundantly their unfitness for the high functions which had descended to them; but custom, and natural tenderness for a form of govern-20 ment the past history of which had been so glorious, might have continued still to shield them from the penalty of their iniquities. The murder of Cæsar filled the measure of their crimes, and gave the last and necessary impulse to the closing act of the revolution.

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Thus the ides of March drew near. Cæsar was to set out in a few days for Parthia. Decimus Brutus was going, as governor, to the north of Italy, Lepidus to Gaul, Marcus Brutus to Macedonia, and Trebonius to Asia Minor. Antony, Cæsar's colleague in the consul-20 ship, was to remain in Italy. Dolabella, Cicero's sonin-law, was to be consul with him as soon as Cæsar should have left for the East. The foreign appoint

ments were all made for five years, and in another

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