Bru. What means this shouting ? I do fear, the People Chuse Cæfar for their King.

Caf. Ay, do you fear it?
Then mult I think, you would not have it so.

Bru. I would not, Casius ; yet I love him well :
But wherefore do you hold me here 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' th' other,
And I will look on Death indifferently: (3)
For, let the Gods so speed me, as I love
The name of Honour, more than I fear Death.

Caf. 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 fory:
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life ; but for my single self,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæsar, 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,

(3) And I will look on both indifferently ;] What a Contradiction to this, are the Lines immediately succeeding? If He Joy'd Honour, more than he fear'd Death, how could they be both indifferent to him? Honour thus is but in equal Balance to Death, which is not speaking at all like Brutus : for, in a Soldier of any ordinary Pretension, it hould always preponderate. We must certainly read,

And I will look on Death indifferently. What occasion'd the Corruption, I presume, was, the Tranfcribers imagining, the Adverb indifferently must be applied to Two things oppos'd. But the Use of the Word does not demandi it ; nor does Shakespeare always apply it so. In the present Paliage it fignifies, neglectingly, without Fear, or Concern: And so Casca afterwards, again in this A&, employs it.

And Dangers are to ne indifferent. i.e. I weigh them not; am not deterr'd on the Score of Danger.

Mr. Warburton.

The

The troubled Tyber chafing with his shores,
Cafar fays to me,“ dar'it thou, Caffius, now
“ Leap in with me into this angry flood,
“ And swim to yonder point? Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bid him follow ; fo, indeed, he did.
The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lufty finews; throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of controversie.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæfar cry'd, “ Help me, Caffius, or I fink.”
I, as Æneas, our great Ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his Moulder
The old Anchises bear, fo, from the waves of Tyber
Did I the tired Caefar: and this man
Is now become a God; and Casius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body,,
If Cæfar carelesly but nod on him.
He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And when the fit was on him, I did mark
How he did shake : 'tis true, this God did shake;
His coward lips did from their colour fly,
And that fame eye, whose Bend doch awe the world,
Did lose its lustre ; I did hear him groan :
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
Alas! it cry'd -" give me some drink, Titinius,
As a fick girl. Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestick world,
And bear the Palm alone.

[Shout. Flourish.
Bru. Another general shout!
I do believe, that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæfar.

Caf. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colosus; and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep

about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men at some times are masters of their fates :
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

Bus

1

Oh! you

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Brutus and Cæjar! what Mould be in that Cæfar?
Why should that name be sounded, more than yours?
Write them together ; yours is as fair a name :
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
Brutus will start a spirit, as soon as Cæfar.
Now in the names of all the Gods at once,
Upon what meat does this our Cæfar feed,
That he is grown so great ? Age, thou art sham'd;
Rome, thou has lost the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, since the great food,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
When could they say, 'till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
Now is it Rome, indeed ; and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man.

and I have heard our fathers say,
There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd
Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome,
As easily as a King.

Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have some aim ;
How I have thought of this, and of these times,
I shall recount hereafter : for this present,
I would not (so with love I might intreat you)

any further mov'd. What you have said,
I will consider ; what you have to say,
I will with patience hear; and find a time
Both meet to hear, and answer such high things.
'Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this;
Brutus had rather be a villager,
Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under such hard conditions, as this time
Is like to lay upon us.

Cof. I am glad that my weak words
Have struck but thus much thew of fire from Brutus.

Enter Cæfar and bis Train.
Bru. The Games are done, and Cæfar is returning,

Caf:

Be

.

Caf. As they pass by, pluck Cajca by the sleeve,
And he will, after his four fashion tell you,
What hath proceeded worthy note to day.

Bru. I will do fo; but look you, Cassius,
The angry spot doth glow on Cæfar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train.
Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero
Looks with such ferret, and such fiery eyes,
As we have seen him in the Capitol,
Being croft in conf'rence by some Senators.

Caf. Cafea will tell us what the matter is.
Cél. Antonius,
Ant. Cafar?

Cæs. Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights :
Yond Caffius has a lean and hungry look,
He thinks too much; Înch men are dangerous.

Ant. Fear him not, Cæfar, he's not dangerous ;
He is a noble Roman, and well given.

Cæs. 'Would he were fatter ; but I fear him not : Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid, So soon as that spare Caffius. He reads much ; He is a great observer; and he looks Quite through the deeds of men. He loves no plays, As thou doit, Antony; he hears no mufick: Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort, As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit, That could be mov'd to smile at any thing Such men as he be never at heart's ease, Whilft they behold a greater than themselves ; And therefore are they very dangerous. I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd, Than what I fear; for always I am Cæfar. Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly, what thou think'st of him.

(Exeunt Cæsar and his Train.

Manent Brutus and Cassius : Casca, to them.
Casca. You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak

with me?
Bru. Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanc'd to day,
That Cæsar looks so sad.

Caf. Why, you were with him, were you not?
Bru. I should not then ask Casca what had chanc'd.

Casca. Why, there was a crown offer'd him; and being offer'd him, he put it by with the back of his hand thus, and then the people fell a shouting.

Bru. What was the second noise for?
Casca. Why, for that too.
Cas. They shouted thrice : what was the last cry

for?
Casca. Why, for that too.
Bru. Was the crown offer'd him thrice ?

Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other ; and at every putting by, mine honest neighbours shouted.

Caf. Who offer'd him the crown?
Casca. Why, Antony.
Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.

Casca. I can as well be hang'd, as tell the manner of
it: it was meer foolery, I did not mark it. I saw Mark
Antony offer him a crown; yet 'twas not a crown neither,
'twas one of these coronets; and, as I told you, he put
it by once; but for all that, to my thinking, he would
fain' I uve had it. Then he offer'd it to him again: then
he put it by again ; but, to my thinking, he was very
loth to lay his fingers off it. And then he offer'd it the
third time; he put it the third time by ; and still as he
refus'd it, the rabblement houted, and clapp'd their chopt
hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and utter'd
such a deal of stinking breath, because Cæfar refus'd
the crown, that it had almost choaked Cæsar ; for he
fwooned, and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I
durft not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, and receiv-
ing the bad air.
Caf. But foft, I pray you; what, did Caefar (woon?

Casca.