« AnteriorContinua »
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now.cull out an holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ?
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 that fault
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tyber's bank, and weep your tears
Into the channel, 'till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
See, whe're their baseft metal be not moy'd;
They vanish tongue-ty'd in their guiltiness,
Go you down that way tow'rds the capitol,
This way will I ; difrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
Mar. May we do fo?
You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.
Flav. It is no matter let no images
Be hung with Cafar's trophies ; l'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets :
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers, pluckt from Cæsar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch ;
Who else would foar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [Exeunt severally.
Enter Cæfar, Antony, for the Course, Calphurnia, Porcia,
Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Casca, a Soothsayer.
Casca. Peace, ho! Cæfar speaks,
Calp. Here, my Lord.
Cel. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
When he doth run his Course - Antonius,
Ant. Cæfar, my Lord.
Cæf. Forget-nat 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 Cajur says, do this; it is perform’d.
Cef. Set on, and leave no ceremony out.
Sooth. Cæfars totam
Cæf. Ha! who calls ?
Casca. Bid every noise be still ; peace yet again.
Ces. Whe, is it in the Press, that calls on me
I lear a tongue thriller than all the musick. ·
Cry, Catar. Speak; Cæfar is turn’d to hear.
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March..
Cæs. What man is that?
Bru. A footh-fay.er bids you beware the Ides of March.
Caf. Set him before me, let me see his face.
Cofca. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cæfar.
Cas; What fay'st thou tome now? speak once again.
Sorth. Beware the Ides of Marche
Cel. He is a dreamer, let us leave him ; pars.
[Exeunt. Cæsar and Train.
Manent Brutus 'and Caffius.
Col. Will you go fce the order of the Course?
· Bru. Not I.
Caf. I pray you, do.
Bra. I am not gamesome ; I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony;
Let me not hinder, Cafius, your desires ;
I'll leave you.
Caf. Brutus, I do observe you now of late ;, .
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And shew of love, as I was wont to have ;
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loyes you.
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 paffions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself;
Which give some foil, perhaps, to my behaviour :
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Casius, be you one ;
Nor construe any farther my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shews of love to other men.
Cal. 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
face? Bru. No, Cafius ; for the eye sees not itself, But by reflexion from some other things.
Cal. 'Tis juft.
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 Cæfar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age’s yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutius 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 since you know, you cannot see yourself Su well as by reflexion; I, your glass, Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself, which yet you know not of. Aizd 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 protestor; if you know, That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, And after scandal them; or if you know, That I profess myself in banquetting To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish and jhout, A 5
Bru. What means this froutingI do fear, the people
Chufe Cæfar for their King.
Caf. Ay, do you fear it?
Then mut I think, you would not have it fo.
Bru. I would not, Caffius; 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 fo fpeed 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 story:
I cannot tell, what
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 such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cafar, fo were you ;
We both have fed as well ; and we can both
Endure the winter's cold, as well as he.
For once apon a raw and gufty day,
(3) And I will look on both indifferently;] What a Contradiction to this, are the lines immediately succeeding? If he lov's Honour, more than he fear'd Death, how could they be both indifferent to him? Honour thus is but in equal Balance to Death, whieh is not speaking at all like Brutus:' for, in a Soldier of any ordiname Pretenfion, it should always preponderate.. We must certainly read,
The troubled Tyber chafing with his hores, 1.-
Cæfar fays to me, " dar'lt thou, Caffius, now it
Leap in with me into this
" And swim to yonder point " Upon the worla's
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bid him follow; fo, indeed, he did... 18
The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lufty finews ; throwing it afide,
And ftemming it with hearts of controversy;
But ere we could arrive the point proposid,
Cæfar cry'd, “ Help me, Cafius, or I fink.
I, as Æneas, our great Ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchifes bear, fo, from the waves of Tyber
Did I the tired Cæfar: 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 same eye, whose Bend doth awe the world,
Did lose its lustre; I did hear him
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. fhould
So get the itart of the majestic world,
And bear the Palm alone.
Bru. Another general shout!
I do believe, that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap'd on Gæsar.
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 curselves diihonourable graves.
Men at .fome tines are masters of their fates :
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in cur stars,