Imatges de pÓgina

Caf. Forget not in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia; for our Eiders fay, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their fteril curfe.

Ant. I fhall remember.

When Cæfar fays, do this; it is perform'd.
Caf. Set on, and leave no ceremony out.
Sooth. Cefar,

Caf. Ha! who calls?

Cafe. Bid every noise be ftill; peace yet again.
Caf. Who is it in the Prefs, that calls on me?
I hear a tongue, fhriller than all the mufick,
Cry, Cafar. Speak; Cæfar is turn'd to hear.
Seath. Beware the Ides of March.

Caf. What man is that?

Bru. A foothfayer bids you beware the Ides of March. Caf. Set him before me, let me fee his face.

Caf. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cæfar. Caf. What fay'ft thou to me now? speak once again. Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.

Caf. He is a dreamer, let us leave him; pafs.

[Exeunt Cæfar and Train

Manent Brutus and Caffius.

Caf. Will you go

Bru. Not I.

fee the order of the Courfe?

Caf. I pray you, do.

Bru. I am not gamefom; I do lack some part Of that quick fpirit that is in Antony :

Let me not hinder, Caffius, your defires;

I'll leave you.

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

Bru. Caffius,

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


Of late, with paffions of fome difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself;

Which give fome foil, perhaps, to my behaviour:
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Caffius, be you one;
Nor conftrue any farther my neglect,

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the fhews of love to other men.

Caf. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your paffion;
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you fee your face?
Bru. No, Caffius; for the eye fees not itself,
But by reflexion from fome other things.
Caf. 'Tis juft.

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

That you might fee your fhadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cæfar) fpeaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoak,
Have with'd, that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Caffius,
That you would have me feek into myself,
For that which is not in me?

Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear;
And fince you know, you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflexion; I, your glass,

Will modeftly discover to yourself

That of yourself, which yet you know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus :
Were I a common laugher, or did use
To ftale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new proteftor; if you know,
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after fcandal them: or if you know,
That I profefs myfelf in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

[Flourish and fhout.



Bru. What means this fhouting? I do fear, the People Chufe Cafar for their King.

Caf. Ay, do you fear it?

Then mult I think, you would not have it so.
Bru. I would not, Caffius; yet I love him well :
But wherefore do you hold me here fo 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 fo 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 fubject of my story:-
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life; but for my fingle felf,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of fuch a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæfar, fo 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 gufty day,

(3) And I will look on both indifferently;] What a Contradiction to this, are the Lines immediately fucceeding? 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 Pretenfion, it should always preponderate. We must certainly read,

And I will look on Death indifferently.

What occafion'd the Corruption, I prefume, was, the Tranfcribers imagining, the Adverb indifferently must be applied to Two things oppos'd. But the Use of the Word does not demand it; nor does Shakespeare always apply it fo. In the prefent Paffage it fignifies, neglectingly, without Fear, or Concern: And fo Cafea afterwards, again in this A&t, employs it.

And Dangers are to me indifferent.

i. e. I weigh them not; am not deterr'd on the Score of Danger. Mr. Warburton.


The troubled Tyber chafing with his shores,
"dar'ft thou, Caffius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,

Cæfar fays to me,

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"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 afide,
And stemming it with hearts of controverfie.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cafar cry'd," Help me, Caffius, or I fink."
I, as Eneas, our great Ancestor,

Did from the flames of Troy upon his fhoulder
The old Anchifes bear, fo, from the waves of Tyber
Did I the tired Cæfar: and this man

Is now become a God; and Caffius is

A wretched creature, and must bend his body,
If Cæfar carelefly but nod on him.

He had a fever when he was in Spain,

And when the fit was on him, I did mark

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How he did shake: 'tis true, this God did shake;
His coward lips did from their colour fly,

And that fame eye, whofe Bend doth awe the world,
Did lofe its luftre; 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 fome drink, Titinius,-
As a fick girl. Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of fuch a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majeftick world,
And bear the Palm alone.

Bru. Another general shout!

I do believe, that these applauses are

[Shout. Flourish.

For fome new honours that are heap'd on Cæfar.
Caf. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Coloffus; and we petty men

Walk under his huge legs, and

peep about

To find ourselves difhonourable graves.

Men at fome times are mafters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,


But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Brutus and Cæfar! what fhould be in that Cæfar?
Why should that name be founded, 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 fpirit, as foon as Cæfar.
Now in the names of all the Gods at once,
Upon what meat does this our Cæfar feed,
That he is grown fo great? Age, thou art fham'd;
Rome, thou haft loft the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, fince the great flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
When could they fay, '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.

Oh! you and I have heard our fathers fay,
There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd
Th' eternal devil to keep his ftate in Rome,
As eafily as a King.

Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have fome aim;
How I have thought of this, and of these times,
I fhall recount hereafter: for this prefent,
I would not (fo with love I might intreat you)
Be any
further mov'd. What you have faid,
I will confider ; what you have to fay,

I will with patience hear; and find a time
Both meet to hear, and anfwer fuch high things.
'Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this;

Brutus had rather be a villager,

Than to repute himself a fon of Rome
Under fuch hard conditions, as this time

Is like to lay upon us.

Caf. I am glad that my weak words

Have ftruck but thus much fhew of fire from Brutus.

Enter Cæfar and his Train.

Bru. The Games are done, and Cæfar is returning.


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