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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?

No wise man ever thought that a traitor should be trusted.

This principle is old, but true as fate, Kings may love treason, but the traitor hate.

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

O that a soldier so glorious, ever victorious in fight, Passed from a daylight of honor into the terrible night; Fell as the mighty archangel, ere the earth glowed in space, fell-- Fell from the patriot's heaven down to the loyalist's hell!

With evil omens from the harbour sails The ill-fated ship that worthless Arnold bears; God of the southern winds, call up thy gales, And whistle in rude fury round his ears.

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

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

Tarquin and Caesar had each his Brutus--Charles the First, his Cromwell--and George the Third-- may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it.

The man who pauses on the paths of treason, Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.

For while the treason I detest, The traitor still I love.

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.

He loved the treason, but hated the traitor.

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.

Though those that are betrayed Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor Stands in worse case of woe.

And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, And dressed myself in such humility That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths Even in the presence of the crowned king.

Supposition all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes; For treason is but trusted like the fox, Who, ne'er so tame, so cherished and locked up, Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.

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

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

Know my name is lost, By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit; Yet am I noble as the adversary I come to cope.