The fufferance of our fouls, the time's abuse, But if these, To kindle cowards, and to fteel with valour. That' this fhall be, or we will fall for it? Nor th' infuppreffive mettle of our fpirits; To think, that or our caufe, or our performance, argument ftands thus, You require an oath to keep us together; but fure the freng motives that drew us into confederacy will keep us confederated. These motives he enumerates; but The FACE of men not being one of thefe motives must needs be a corrupt reading. Shakespeare, without queftion, wrote, If that the FATE of men, Or of mankind, which, in the ideas of a Roman, was involved in the fate of their Republick. And this was the principal motive which engaged the God-like Brutus in the undertaking. WARBURTON. This elaborate emendation is; I think, erroneous. The face of men is the countenance, the regard, the esteem of the publick; in other terms, honour and reputation; or, the face of men may mean, the dejected look of the people. He reads, with the other modern editions, -If that the face of men, but the old reading is, -if not the face, &c. This is imitated by Otway When you would bind me, is there need of oaths? &c. Venice preferved. That That ev'ry Roman bears, and nobly bears, If he doth break the fmalleft particle Caf. But what of Cicero? fhall we found him? Cin. No, by no means. Met, O let us have him, for his filver hairs And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: Bru. O, name him not; let us not break with him: For he will never follow any thing, That other men begin. Caf. Then leave him out. Cafca. Indeed, he is not fit. Dec. Shall no man elfe be touch'd, but only Cæfar? Caf. Decius, well urg'd: I think, it is not meet, Mark Antony, fo well belov'd of Cæfar, Should out-live Cafar: we fhall find of him A fhrewd contriver. And you know, his means, If he improve them, may well ftretch fo far, As to annoy us all; which to prevent, Let Antony and Cæfar fall together. Bru. Our courfe will feem too bloody, Caius Caffius, Let us be facrificers, but not butchers, Caius ; 7 Let's Stir up Let's carve him as a difh fit for the Gods, Caf. Yet I do fear him ; For in th' ingrafted love he bears to Cefar- 2 Is to himself; take thought, and die for Cafer: Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die; Bru. Peace, count the clock. Caf. But it is doubtful yet, [Clock Strikes. If Cafar will come forth to-day, or no: 2-take thought,-] That is, turn melancholy. 3 For he is fuperftitious grown Of fantafy, of dreams, and ceremonies:] Cafar, as well as Caffius, was an Epicurean. By It main opinion Caffius intends a compliment to his fect, and means folid, fundamental opi nion grounded in truth and nature: As by fantasy is meant ominous forebodings; and by ceremonies, atonements of the Gods by means of religious rites and facrifices. A little after, where Calpburnia It may be, these apparent prodigies, Dec. Never fear that; if he be fo refolv'd, For I can give his humour the true bent, Caf. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. Bru. By the eighth hour. Is that the uttermoft? Cin. Be that the uttermoft; and fail not then. Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæfar hard, Who rated him for fpeaking well of Pompey; I wonder, none of you have thought of him. Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along to him: Caf. The morning comes upon's. We'll leave you, And, friends! difperfe yourselves; but all remember Caliphurnia fays, Cæfar, I never flood on ceremonies, Yet now they fright me:The poet ufes Ceremonies in a quite different fenfe, namely, the turning accidents to omens, a principal fuperftition of antiquity. WARBURTON. Main opinion, is nothing more VOL. VII. than leading, fixed, predominant opinion. D -for he loves to hear, &c.] It was finely imagined by the poet, to make Cefar delight in this fort of converfation. The tells us, that the great Prince of Author of St. Evremond's life Conde took much pleasure in remarking on the foible and ridicule of characters. WARB. Bru. Bru. Good Gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; 5 Let not our looks put on our purposes; But bear it, as our Roman actors do, With untir'd spirits, and formal conftancy. And fo, good-morrow to you every one. Manet Brutus. Boy! Lucius!-Faft afleep. It is no matter, SCENE Enter Porcia. Por. Brutus, my Lord! III. [Exeunt. Bru. Porcia, what mean you? Wherefore rife you now? It is not for your health, thus to commit Stol'n from my bed; and, yefternight at fupper, Mufing and fighing, with your arms a cross, foot: I urg'd you further; then you fcratch'd your head, 5 Let not our Looks] Let not our faces fut on, that is, wear or how our defigns. |