Imatges de pàgina
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Will crowd a feeble Man almost to death:
I'll get me to a place more void, and there
Speak to great Cæfar as he comes along.

[Exit.
Por. I muft go inaye me! how weak a thing
The heart of Woman is! O Brutus! Brutus!
The Heavens speed thee in thine enterprize!
Sure, the Boy heard me:

Brutus hath a Suit,

That Cæfar will not grant.O, I grow faint:
Run, Lucius, and commend me to my Lord;
Say, I am merry; come to me again,

And bring me word what he doth fay to thee.

[Exeunt feverally.

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SCENE, the Street before the Capitol ; and the Capitol open.

Flourish. Enter Cæfar, Brutus, Caffius, Cafca, Decius,
Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, Lepidus,
Artemidorus, Popilius, Publius, and the
-Sooth-fayer.

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HE Ides of March are come.

Sooth. Ay, Cæfar, but not gone.
Art. Hail, Cafar: read this schedule.

Dec. Trebonius doth defire you to o'erread,
At your best leifure, this his humble fuit.

Art. O Cæfar, read mine firft; for mine's a fuit, That touches Cæfar nearer. Read it, great Cafar. Caf. What touches us our self, fhall be laft ferv'd. Art. Delay not, Cæfar, read it instantly.

Caf. What, is the fellow mad?

Pub. Sirrah, give place.

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Caf

Caf. What, urge you your petitions in the ftreet? Come to the Capitol.

Pop. I wish, your enterprize to day may thrive.
Caf. What enterprize, Popilius?

Pop. Fare you well.

Bru. What faid Popilius Lena?

Caf. He wifh'd, to day our enterprize might thrive: I fear, our purpose is discovered.

Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæfar; mark him. Caf. Cafca, be fudden, for we fear prevention. Brutus, what fhall be done, if this be known? Caffius, or Cæfar, never fhall turn back; For I will flay my felf.

Bru. Caffius, be conftant:

Popilius Lena fpeaks not of our purpose,

For, look, he fmiles, and Cæfar doth not change..
Caf. Trebonius knows his time; for look you, Brutus,
He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? let him go,

And presently prefer his fuit to Cafar.

Bru. He is addreft; prefs near, and fecond him.
Cin. Cafca, you are the first that rears your hand.
Caf. Are we all ready? what is now amiss,

That Cæfar and his Senate muft redress?

Met. Moft high, most mighty, and most puiffant
Cafar,

Metellus Cimber throws before thy feat
An humble heart.

Caf. I muft prevent thee, Cimber ;
These couchings and thefe lowly curtefies
Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
And turn pre-ordinance and firft decree
Into the lane of children. Be not fond,
To think that Cæfar bears fuch rebel blood,
That will be thaw'd from the true quality

[Kneeling.

With That which melteth fools; I mean, fweet words; Low-crooked curtfies, and base spaniel fawning.

Thy brother by decree is banished;

If thou doft bend, and pray, and fawn for him,
I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.

VOL. VI.

M

(17) Know,

(17) Know, Cafar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be fatisfied.

Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, To found more fweetly in great Cafar's car,

For the repealing of my banish'd Brother?

Bru. I kifs thy hand, but not in flattery, Cefar; Defiring thee, that Publius Cimber may

Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
Caf. What, Brutus!

Caf. Pardon, Cafar; Cæfar, pardon;
As low as to thy foot doth Caffius fall,
To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.

Caf. I could be well mov'd, if I were as you;
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me:
But I am conftant as the northern Star,

Of whofe true, fixt, and refting quality,

There is no fellow in the firmament;

The skies are painted with unnumbred fparks,

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Cry you Mercy, The Words are

(17) Know, Cæfar doth not wrong,] Ben. Fonfon in the Induction to his Staple of News has a Sneer upon this Paffage :---"You never did wrong but with juft Cause." conftantly printed in a different Character, and, that they are levell'd at Shakespeare, is fully clear'd up by another Paflage in Ben's Difcoveries, where he thus speaks of our Author: "Many times he fell into "thofe Things could not efcape Laughter; as when he faid in the Per"fon of Cæfar, one fpeaking to him, Cæfar, thou doft me wrong; "he reply'd, Cæfar did never wrong, but with just Caufe." I can't pretend to guefs, for what Reafon Ben has left this Sarcafm upon our Author; when there is no Room for it from any of the printed Copies: nor fhould I have thought it worth while to revive the Memory of fuch a Remark, had not Mr. Pope purposely deviated into a Criticifm upon the Affair. There is a Sort of Fatality attends fome People, when they aim at being hypercritical. "He thinks, Ben Jonfon's Remark was "made upon no better Credit, than fome Blunder of an Actor in fpeak"ing the Verfe now under Debate: And, perhaps, (fays He,) this Play was never printed in B. Jonfon's Time; and fo he had nothing to judge by, but as the Actor was pleas'd to speak it." I don't know how this Gentleman's Head was employ'd, when he made this profound Obfervation: for He could not but know, that B. Jonfon liv'd to the Year 1637, fourteen Years before which the Players had put out their Edition of all Shakespeare's genuine Plays in Folio. The furly Laureat therefore cannot ftand excus'd, from any Blunder of an Actor, for wounding the Memory of a Poet; when the Abfurdity, reflected on, not to be found in his Works.

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is

They

They are all fire, and every one doth shine;
But there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So, in the world, 'tis furnish'd well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehenfives
Yet in the number, I do know but one
That unaffailable holds on his rank,
Unfhak'd of motion: and that I am he,
Let me a little fhew it, even in this;

That I was conftant Cimber should be banish'd,
And constant do remain to keep him fo.

Cim. O Cæfar

Caf. Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Dec. Great Cafar-

Caf. Doth not Brutus bootlefs kneel?

Cafe. Speak hands for me.

Caf. Et tu, Brute?

[They ftab Cafar.

[Dies.

then fall Cæfar!

Cin. Liberty! freedom! Tyranny is dead

Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the Streets-
Caf. Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out,
Liberty, freedom, and enfranchifement.

Bru. People, and Senators! be not affrighted;
Fly not, ftand still. Ambition's debt is paid.
Cafe. Go to the Pulpit, Brutus.

Dec. And Caffius too.

Bru. Where's Publius?

Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. Met. Stand faft together, left fome Friends of Cefar's Should chance

Bru. Talk not of ftanding. Publius, good cheer} There is no harm intended to your Person, Nor to no Roman elfe; fo tell them, Publius. Caf. And leave us, Publius, left that the People, Rufhing on us, fhould do your age fome mischief. Bru. Do fo; and let no man abide this deed, But we the Doers.

Enter Trebonius.

Caf. Where is Antony?

Tre. Fled to his Houfe amaz'd.

Men, Wives, and Children, ftare, cry out, and run,

As it were Dooms-day.

Bru. Fates! we will know your pleasures; That we shall die, we know, 'tis but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon.

Caf. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life, Cuts off fo many years of fearing death.

Bru. Grant That, and then is death a benefit. So are we Cæfar's Friends, that have abridg'd His time of fearing death. (18) Stoop, Romans, stoop; And let us bathe our hands in Cafar's blood Up to the elbows, and befmear our fwords; Then walk we forth even to the Market-place, And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, Let's all cry, peace! freedom! and liberty!

Caf. Stoop then, and wash-how many ages hence [Dipping their fwords in Čælar's blood. Shall this our lofty Scene be acted o'er,

In States unborn, and accents yet unknown?
Bru. How many times fhall Cæfar bleed in fport,
That now on Pompey's Bafis lies along,

No worthier than the duft?

Caf. So oft as that shall be,

So often shall the Knot of us be call'd
The Men that gave their Country Liberty.

(18) Stoop, Romans, floop ;] Mr. Pope, in both his Editions, has, from thefe Words, arbitrarily taken away the Remainder of this Speech from Brutus, and placed it to Cafca: because, he thinks, nothing is more in-, confiftent with Brutus's mild and philofophical Character. And as he often finds Speeches in the later Editions, he fays, put into wrong Mouths; he thinks, this Liberty is not unreasonable. 'Tis true, a dili gent Editor may find many fuch Errors committed even in the first printed Copies; but it has not often been Mr. Pope's good Fortune to hit upon them. I dare warrant, the Printers made no Blunder in this Inftance; and therefore I have made bold to restore the Speech to its right Owner. Brutus efteem'd the Death of Cæfar a Sacrifice to Liberty: and, as fuch, gloried in his heading the Enterprize. Befides, our Poet is ftrictly copying a Fact in Hiftory. Plutarch, in the Life of Cafar, fays, "Brutus and his Followers, being yet hot with the Murther, "march'd in a Body from the Senate-houfe to the Capitol, with their "drawn Swords, with an Air of Confidence and Affurance." And, in the Life of Brutus, "Brutus and his Party betook themselves to the Capitol, and in their way bewing their Hands all bloody, and their “ naked Swords, proclaim'd Liberty to the People."

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Dec.

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