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.

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

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

If this be treason, make the most of it!

If this be treason, make the most of it!

Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?
Why if it prosper, none dare call it treason.

Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?
Why if it prosper, none dare call it treason.

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.

A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at read more

A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. The traitor is the plague.

Is there not some chosen curse, some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, red with uncommon wrath, to blast 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!

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep,
And in his simple show he harbors treason.

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep,
And in his simple show he harbors treason.

Treason is not own'd when 'tis descried;
Successful crimes alone are justified.

Treason is not own'd when 'tis descried;
Successful crimes alone are justified.