Imatges de pÓgina
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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 foil perhaps to my behaviour :
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Caffius, 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.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your 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, Caffius; for the eye fees not itself, But by reflection from some other things.

Caf. 'Tis just.
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That
you

have no such mirrors as will turji
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 Cæsar), speaking of Brutus,
And 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?

Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear; 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 yet you know not of. And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus: Were I a common laugher, or did use To stale 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 banqueting
To all the rout; then hold me dangerous.

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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 foil perhaps to my behaviour :
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Cassius, be you one ;
Nor conftrue any farther my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shews of love to other men.

Caf. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your 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

fees not itself, But by reflection from some other things.

Caf. 'Tis just.
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors as will turii
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 Brutus had his eyes.

Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Caflius,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?

Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepard to hear; 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 yet you know not of. And be not jealous of ine, gentle Brutus: Were I a common laugher, or did use To stale with ordinary oaths my love To every new proteitor ; if you know, That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, And after fcandal them; or if you know, That I profels myself in banqueting To all the rout; then hold me dangerous.

I Flourish and shout.

:

Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear the people Chufe Cæfar for their King.

Caf. Ay, do you fear it?
Then must 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 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 :
For let the Gods fo fpeed me, as I love
The name of Honour more than I fear Death.

Cuf. 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 fingle felf,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myfelf.
I was born free as Cæfar, 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 Tyber chafing with his shores,

Cæfar says to me, Dar'st 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 lusty finews ; throwing it alide, And ftemming it with hearts of controversy. “ But ere we could arrive the point propos’d,” Cæfar cry'd, Help me, Caffus, or [ link. I, as Æneas, our great ancestor', Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear; so from the waves of Tyber Did I the tired Cælar: and this man Is now become a god, and Cassius is

* Szvimming was one of the gener us exerises practise! at Rome, and 'ca ned by all th: y uth of the helt birth and quality as a neceffary qualification towards good foldiership.

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A wretched creature; and mut bend his body,
If Cæsar carelessly 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 grone:
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 sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of Tuch a feeble

temper

should “ So get the start of the majestic world, “ And bear the palm alone.”, [Shout, Flourish,

Bru. Another general thout!
I do believe, that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar.

Caf.' Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world • Like a Colossus; 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, < But in ourselves, that we are underlings. • Brutus and Cæfar! what should be in that Cæfar ?

Why.lhould that name be founded, more than your's? • Write them together ; your's 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 Cæsar.

Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat does this our Cæsar feed,

That he is grown so great? Äge, thou are sham’d; • Rome, thou hast loft the breed of noble bloods. " When went there by an age, since the great flood,

But it was fam'd with more than with one inan? • When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome, • That her wide walls encompass'd but one man? *

Oh !

tut one man ? Now is it Rome indeed, and room encugh,

When

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