Imatges de pÓgina
PDF
EPUB

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

Bru. I will do fo; but look you, Caffius,
The angry fpot doth glow on Cafar's brow,
And all the reft look like a chidden train.
Calpburnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero
Looks with fuch ferret, and fuch fiery eyes,
As we have seen him in the Capitol,
Being croft in conf'rence by fome Senators.
Caf. Cafea will tell us what the matter is.
Caf. Antonius,

Ant. Cafar?

Caf. Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and fuch as fleep a-nights:
Yond Caffius has a lean and hungry look,

He thinks too much; fnch men are dangerous.
Ant. Fear him not, Cafar, he's not dangerous;

He is a noble Roman, and well given.

Caf. 'Would he were fatter; but I fear him not:

Yet if my name were liable to fear,

I do not know the man I fhould avoid,

So foon as that fpare Caffius. He reads much;
He is a great obferver; and he looks

Quite through the deeds of men. He loves no plays,
As thou doft, Antony; he hears no mufick:
Seldom he fmiles, and fmiles in fuch a fort,
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit,
That could be mov'd to fmile at any thing.
Such men as he be never at heart's ease,
Whilft 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 Cæfar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly, what thou think'ft of him.

[Exeunt Cæfar and his Train.

Manent

Manent Brutus and Caffius: Cafca, to them.

Cafca. You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?

Bru. Ay, Cafca, tell us what hath chanc'd to day, That Cæfar looks so fad.

Caf. Why, you were with him, were you not?

Bru. I fhould not then ask Casca what had chanc'd. Cafca. 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 fhouting.

Bru. What was the fecond noise for?
Cafca. Why, for that too.

Caf. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry

for?

Cafca. Why, for that too.

Bru. Was the crown offer'd him thrice?

Cafca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by, mine honeft neighbours fhouted.

Caf. Who offer'd him the crown ?

Cafca. Why, Antony.

Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Cafca.

Cafca. I can as well be hang'd, as tell the manner of it it was meer foolery, I did not mark it. I faw 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 loth to lay his fingers off it. And then he offer'd it the third time; he put it the third time by; and ftill as he refus'd it, the rabblement houted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw up their fweaty night-caps, and utter'd fuch a deal of ftinking breath, becaufe Cafar refus'd the crown, that it had almoft choaked Cæfar; for he fwooned, and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I durft not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, and receiving the bad air.

Caf. But foft, I pray you; what, did Cæfar fwoon?

Cafca.

Cafca. He fell down in the market place, and foam'd at mouth, and was fpeechless.

Bru. 'Tis very like; he hath the falling Sickness.
Caf. No, Cæfar hath it not; but you and I,
And honeft Cafea, we have the falling-fickness.

Cafca. I know not what you mean by that; but, I am fure, Cafar fell down: If the tag-rag people did not clap him, "and hifs him, according as he pleas'd, and difpleas'd them, as they used to do the Players in the Theatre, I am no true man.

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

Cafca. 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 the among and fo he fell. When he go to hell rogues ; "If he had done, or came to himself again, he said,

faid any thing amifs, he defir'd their Worships to "think it was his infirmity." Three or four wenches where I ftood, cry'd. "alas, good foul !"- -and for

gave him with all their hearts: but there's no heed to be taken of them; if Cæfar had stabb'd their mothers, they would have done no less.

Bru. And after that, he came, thus fad, away?
Cafca. Ay.

Caf. Did Cicero fay any thing?

Cafca. Ay, he fpoke Greek.
Caf. To what effect?

Cafca. Nay, an' I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i'th' face again. But thofe, that understood him, fmil'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: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling fcarfs off Cafar's Images, are put to filence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Caf. Will you fup with me to night, Cafca?
Cafca. No, I am promis'd forth.

Caf. Will you dine with me to morrow?

Cafca. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner be worth the eating.

Caf.

Caf. Good, I will expect you.

Cafca. Do fo: farewel Both.

Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be? He was quick mettle, when he went to school. Caf. So is he now, in execution

Of any bold or noble enterprize,

However he puts on this tardy form :
This rudeness is a fawce to his good wit,
Which gives men stomach to digest his words
With better appetite.

Bru. And fo 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, if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for

[Exit.

you. Caf. I will do fo; till then, think of the world. [Exit Brutus.

Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I fee,
Thy honourable Metal may be wrought
From what it is difpos'd; therefore 'tis meet,
That noble minds keep ever with their likes:
For who fo firm, that cannot be feduc'd?
Cæfar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus.
If I were Brutus now, and he were Caffius,
He should not humour me. I will, this night,
In feveral 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 obfcurely
Cafar's ambition fhall be glanced at.

And, after this, let Cæfar feat him fure;
For we will shake him, or worse days endure.

[Exit:

Thunder and lightning. Enter Cafca, his fword drawn; and Cicero, meeting him.

Cic. Good even, Cafea, brought you Cafar home? Why are you breathlefs, and why ftare you fo? Cafea. Are not you mov'd, when all the fway of earth

Shakes likes a thing unfirm? O Cicero !

I have feen tempefts, when the fcolding winds

Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen
Th' ambitious ocean fwell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threatning clouds:
But never till to night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempeft dropping fire.
Either there is a civil ftrife in heav'n;

Or else the world, too faucy with the Gods,
Incenfes them to fend deftruction.

Cic. Why, faw you any thing more wonderful?
Cafca. A common flave, you know him well by
fight,

Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn,
Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand,
Not fenfible of fire, remain'd unfcorch'd.
Befides, (I ha' not fince put up my fword)
Against the Capitol I met a lion,

Who glar'd upon me, and went furly by,
Without annoying me. And there were drawn
Upon a heap a hundred ghaftly women,
Transformed with their fear; who fwore, they faw
Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets.
And yesterday, the bird of night did fit,
Ev'n at noon day, upon the market-place,
Houting and fhrieking. When thefe Prodigies
Do fo conjointly meet, let not men say,
"These are their reasons, they are natural :"
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the Climate, that they point upon.

Cic. Indeed, it is a ftrange difpofed time:
But men may conftrue things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Comes Cæfar to the Capitol to morrow?

Cafca. He doth: for he did bid Antonius
Send word to you, he would be there to morrow.
Cic. Good night then, Cafca; this disturbed sky
Is not to walk in.

[blocks in formation]

[Exit Cicero.

Caf.

« AnteriorContinua »