Imatges de pÓgina

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Brutus and Cæfar! what should 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 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 fo great ? Age, thou art shamid;
Rome, thou hast lost 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 say, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls incompafs’d but one man?
Now is it Rome, indeed; and room enough,
When there is in it but one only mana-
Oh! you 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 eafily as a King.

Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous ; What you

wouid 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)
Be any further mov'd. What you have said,
I will confider; what you have to say,
Į will with patience hear ; and find a time
Both meet to hear, and anfwer fuch high things.
Till then, my noble friend, chew apon this;
Brutus had rather be a villager,
Than to repute himself a foni of Rome
Under such hard conditions, as this time
Is like to tay upon us.

Caf. I am glad that my weak words:
Haye ftruck but thus much few of fire from Brutus,

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


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

Bru. I will do so; but look you, Caffius,
The angry spot doth glow on Cæsar's brow,
And all the reft look like a chiuden 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.

Cal. Cafca will tell us what the matter is,
Caf. Antonius,
Ant. Cæfar ?

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

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

Cæs. 'Would she were tter, but I fear him not :* Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid, So foon 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 doft, Antony; he hears no mufick; Seldom he smiles; and fmiles in fuch a fort, As if he mock'd himself, and fcorn'd his fpirit, That could be mov'd to smile at any thing. Such men as he be never at heart's eafe, Whilst 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 Cafar.' Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly, what thou think'ft, of him.

(Exeunt Cæfar and bis rains

Manent cry

Manent Brutus and Caffius : Casca, to them. Cafca. You pulld me by the cloak ; would you speak

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

Casca. Why, you were with him, were you not? Bru. I should not then ask Cafcą, 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.
Caf. They shouted thrice: what was the last for?
Casca. Why, for that too.
Bru. Was the crown offer'd him thrice ?

Cajca. Ay, marry, was’t, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by, mine honeft 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 inere 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 have had it. Then he offer'd it to him again, then he put it by again ; but, to my thinking, he was very. loath 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 hooted, 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 Gæjar; for he fwooned, and fell down at it, and for mine own part, I durit not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, and receiving the bad air. Caf. But, foft, I pray you; what, did Cajar swoon? , ;


Casca. He fell down in the marklet-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechlefs.

Bru. 'Tis very like; he hath the falling fickness.

Caf. No, Cæfar hath it not ; but you and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling-ficknefs.

Casca. I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, Cefar fell down : If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleas’d, and displeas'd them, as they ufed to do the players in the Theatre, I am no true man,

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

Casca. 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 so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, “ If he had done, or “ said anything amífs, he defir'd their Worships to " think it was his infirmity." Three or four wenches where I stood, cry'd, “ alas, good foul!"- -and forgave him with all their hearts : but there's no need to be taken of them; if Cæfar had ftabb'd their mothers, they would have done no lefs.

Bru. And after that, he came, 'thus sad, away?
Casca. Ay.
Caf. Did Cicero say any thing?
Cafea. Ay, he spoke Greek.
Caf. 'To what effect ?

Casca. Nay, an' I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i'th' face again. But thofe, that understood him, smil'd at one another, and shook their heads; 'but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too : Marallus and Flavius," for pulling scarfs off Cæsar's images, are put to filence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Cof. Will you sup with me to-night, Cafia?
Cefa. No, I am promis'd forth.
Caf. Will you dine with me to-morrow?

Cafra. Ay, if I be alive,' Wnd your mind hold, and your dinner be worth the eating.


Caf. Good, I will expect you.
Casca. 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 be now, in execution
Of any bold or noble enterprise,
However he puts on this tardy. form:
This rudeness is a fawce to his good wit,
Which gives men ftomach to digeft his words
With better appetite.

Bru. And so it is : for this time I will leave you,
To-morrow, if you please to speak with me,
I will come home to you; or,


Come home to me, and I will wait for you.
Caf. I will do so; till then, think of the world.

[Exit Brutus. Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, Thy honourable mettle may be wrought From what it is dispos’d; therefore 'tis meet, That noble minds keep ever with their likes : For who so firm, that cannot be seduc'd? Cæfar doth bear me hard ; but he loves Brutus. If I were Brutus now, and he were Calius, He should not humour me.- I will, this night, In several hands, in at his windows throw, As if they came from several citizens, Writings, all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his name : Wherein obscurely Cæfar's ambition shall be glanced at. And, after this, let Cæfar seat him fure; For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit.

Thunder and lightning. Enter Casca, his sword drawn;

and Cicero, meeting him. Clic. Good even, Cafca; brought you Cæfar home? Why are you breathless, and why ftare you for

Casca. Are not you mov'd, when all the fway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm ? O Cicera ; I have seen tempeits, when the scolding winds


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