Imatges de pÓgina
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tabblement hooted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw up their fweaty night-caps, and utter'd fuch a deal of ftinking breath, becaufe Cafar refus'd the crown, that it had almoft choaked Cafar; for he fwooned, and fell down at it; and for mine own part, I durft not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, and receiving the bad air.

Caf. But, foft, I pray you. What? Did Cafar fwoon?

Cafca. He fell down in the market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechless.

Bru. 'Tis very like; he hath the falling Sickness. Caf. No, Cafar hath it not; but you and I, And honeft Cafca, we have the falling fickness.

Cafca. I know not what you mean by that; but, I am fure, Cæfar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hifs him, according as he pleas'd, and difpleas'd them, as they used to do the Players in the Theatre, I am no true man.

Bru. What faid he, when he came unto himself?

Cafca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refus'd the Crown, he pluckt me ope his doublet, and offer'd them his throat to cut. An' I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And fo he fell. When he came to himself again, he faid, If be bad done, or faid any thing amifs, be defir'd their Worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches where I ftood, cry'd, alas, good foul!and forgave him with all their hearts: but there's no heed to be taken of them; if Cæfar had stabb'd their mothers, they would have done no less.

Bru. And after that, he came, thus fad, away?
Cafca. Ay.

6 a man of any occupation,] Had I been a mechanick, one of the

Plebcians to whom he offered his throat.

Caf.

Caf. Did Cicero say any thing?
Cafca. Ay, he fpoke Greek.
Caf. To what effect?

Cafca. Nay, an' I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' th' face again. But thofe, that understood him, fmil'd at one another, and fhook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Cæfar's Images, are put to filence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.

more news too.

Caf. Will you fup with me to night, Cafca?
Cafca. No, I am promis'd forth.

Caf. Will you dine with me to-morrow?
Cafca. Ay, if I be alive, and

your mind hold, and

your dinner be worth the eating. Caf. Good. I will expect you. Cafca. Do fo. Farewel Both.

[Exit.

Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be? He was quick mettle, when he went to school.. Caf. So is he now, in execution

Of any bold or noble enterprise,

However he puts on this tardy form.
This rudeness is a fauce to his good wit,
Which gives men ftomach to digeft his words
With better appetite.

you.

Bru. And fo it is. For this time I will leave
To-morrow, if you please to speak with me,
I will come home to you; or, if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for you.
Caf. I will do fo. Till then, think of the world.
[Exit Brutus,

Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I fee,
Thy honourable Metal may be wrought

7 Thy honourable Metal may be The beft metal or temper may

wrought

From what it is difpos'd;]

be

worked into qualities contrary to its original conftitution.

From

From what it is difpos'd; therefore 'tis meet,
That noble minds keep ever with their likes,
For who fo firm, that cannot be feduc'd?
Cafar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus;
*If I were Brutus now, and he were Caffius,
He should not humour me. I will, this night,
In several hands, in at his windows throw,
As if they came from feveral citizens,
Writings, all tending to the great opinion
That Rome holds of his name, wherein obfcurely
Cafar's ambition fhall be glanced at.

And, after this, let Cæfar feat him fure;

For we will shake him, or worfe days endure. [Exit.

SCENE VI.

Thunder and lightning. Enter Cafca, his fword drawn ǹ and Cicero, meeting him:

Cic. Good even, Cafca. 9 Brought you Cafar home? Why are you breathlefs, and why stare you fo? Cafca. Are not you mov'd, when all the fway of earth

Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero !

I have feen tempefts, when the scolding winds
Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen

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Th' ambitious ocean fwell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threatning clouds;
But never till to-night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempeft dropping fire.
Either there is a civil ftrife in heav'n;

Or elfe the world, too faucy with the Gods,
Incenses them to fend deftruction.

Cic. Why, faw you any thing more wonderful?
Cafea. A common flave, you know him well by fight,
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn,
Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand,
Not fenfible of fire, remain'd unfcorch'd.
Befides, I ha' not fince put up my sword,
Against the Capitol I met a lion,

Who glar'd upon me, and went furly by, Without annoying me.

And there were drawn

Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,

Transformed with their fear; who fwore, they faw
Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets.
And yesterday, the bird of night did fit,
Ev'n at noon-day, upon the market-place,
Hooting and fhrieking. When thefe Prodigies
Do fo conjointly meet, let not men fay,
These are their reasons. They are natural;
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the Climate, that they point upon.

Cic. Indeed, it is a ftrange-difpofed time;
But men may conftrue things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpofe of the things themselves.
Comes Cefar to the Capitol to-morrow?

Cafca. He doth: for he did bid Antonius
Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow.
Cic. Good night then, Cafca; this disturbed sky
Is not to walk in.

Cafea. Farewel, Cicero.

2 Who glar'd upon me,-] The first edition reads,

[Exit Cicero.

Who glaz'd upon me,

Perhaps, Who gaz'd upon me.

SCENE

S CE NE VII.

Enter Caffius.

Caf. Who's there?

Cafca. A Roman.

Caf. Cafea, by your voice.

Cafea. Your ear is good, Caffius, what night is this! Caf. A very pleafing night to honeft men.

Cafca. Whoever knew the heavens menace fo? Caf. Thofe, that have known the earth fo full of faults.

J

For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perilous night
And thus unbraced, Cafea, as you fee,
Have bar'd my bafom to the thunder-stone,
And when the crofs blue lightning feem'd' to open
The breast of heav'n, I did prefent myself
Ev'n in the aim and very flash of it.

Cafca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the heav'ns?

It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty Gods, by tokens, fend
Such dreadful heralds to aftonifh us.

Caf. You are dull, Casca; and those sparks of life,
That fhould be in a Roman, you do want,
Or else you use not; you look pale, and gaze,
And put on fear, and caft yourself in wonder,
To fee the ftrange impatience of the heav'ns:
But if you would confider the true caufe,
Why all these fires, why all thefe gliding ghofts,
3 Why birds and beafts, from quality and kind,

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