Imatges de pàgina
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Have you not made an universal, shout,
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in her concave shores?

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?

And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone;

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.

Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,

Assemble all the poor men of your sort ;
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt Citizens.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I Disrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
Mar. May we do so?

You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.
Flav. It is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch;

Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

[Exeunt.

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Enter, in procession, with musick, CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA, a great crowd following; among them a Soothsayer.

Caes. Calphurnia,

Casca. Peace, ho! Caesar speaks,

Caes. Calphurnia,

Cal. Here, my Lord.

[Musick ceases.

Caes, Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
When he doth run his course. Antonius.
Ant. Caesar, my Lord.

Caes. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calphurnia; for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their steril curse.

Ant. I shall remember:

When Caesar says, Do this, it is perform'd.
Caes. Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

Sooth. Caesar.

Caes. Ha! Who calls?

Casca. Bid every noise be still:

[Musick.

-Peace yet again. [Musick ceases. Caes. Who is it in the press, that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the musick, Cry, Caesar: Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Caes. What man is that?

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Bru. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

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Caes. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon Caesar.

Caes. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.

Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

Caes. He is a dreamer; let us leave him; pass. [Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course? Bru. Not 1.

Cas. I pray you, do.

Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;

I'll leave you.

Caes. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness, And show of love, as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you.

Bru. Cassius,

Be not deceiv'd: If I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,

Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,

Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviours:
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd;
(Among which number, Cassius, be
you one ;)

Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at wary
Forge's the shows of love to other men.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your

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passion;

By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection, by some other things,

Cas. 'Tis just:

"

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors, as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,

That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Caesar) speaking of Brutus,
Aud groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me,
Cassius,

That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear:

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And, since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself

That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a cominon laugher, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or if you know
That profess myself in banqueting

To all the root, then hold me dangerous.

[Flourish and shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the people

Choose Caesar for their King.

Cas. Ay, do you fear it?

Then must I think you would not have it so.

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Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well:

But wherefore do you hold me hear so long?
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other,
And I will look on both indifferently: 45
Fory let the Gods so speed me, as I love,
The name of honour more than I fear death.
Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
1 had as lief not be as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.

I was born free as Caesar; so were you:
We both have fed as well; and we can both
Endure the winter's cold, as well as he,
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
Caesar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?

Upon the word, Accouter'd as I was, I plunged in,

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And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did.
The torrent roar'd; and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews; throwing it aside
And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Caesar cry'd, Help me, Cassius, or Î sink.
I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor,

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of

Tiber

Did I the tired Caesar: And this mau

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