Imatges de pàgina
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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 apprehensive;
Yet in the number, I do know but one
That unassailable holds on his rank,
Unshak'd of motion : and that I am he,
Let me a little shew it, even in this;
That I was constant Cimber should be banifh'd,
And constant do remain to keep him so.

Cim. O Cæfar -
Cæf. Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Dec. Great Cæfar-
Cef. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
Casc. Speak hands for me. [They ftab Casar.
Caf. Et tu, Brute?-- then fall Gæfar? [Dies.

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 enfranchisement.

Bru. People, and Senators! be not affrighted;
Fly not, stand still. Ambition's debt is paid.

Casc. Go to the Pulpit, Brutus.
Dec. And Casius too.
Bru. Where's Publius?
Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.

Met. Stand fast together, left some Friends of Cæsar's Should chance

Bru. Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; There is no harm intended to your Person, Nor to no Roman else; so tell them, Publius.

Caf. And leave us, Publius, left that the People, Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.

Bru. Do so; and let no man abide this deed, But we the Doers.

Enter Trebonius. Caf. Where is Antony ?

Tre. Fled to his House 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; 'ris but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon.

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

Bru. Grant That, and then is death a benefit. So are we Cesar's Friends, that have abridg'd His time of fearing death. (18) Stoop, Romans, stoops And let us bathe our hands in Cæfar's blood Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords ; 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! 7 Caf. Stoop then, and wash - how many ages hence

[Dipping their swords in Cælar's blood. Shall this our lofty Scene be acted o'er, In States unborn, and accents yet unknown?

Bru. How many times shall Cæfar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompey's Basis lies along,
No worthier than the dust?

Caf. Soʻoft as that shall be,
So often shall the Knot of us be callid
The Men that gave their Country Liberty.

hit upon

(18) Stoop, Romans, floop :] Mr. Pope, in both his Editions, has, from these Words, arbitrarily taken away the Remainder of this Speech from Brutus, and placed it to Casca: because, he thinks, nothing is more in., consistent with Brutus's mild and philosophical Character. And as he often finds Speeches in the later Editions, he says, put into wrong Mouths ; he thinks, this Liberty is not unreasonable. 'Tis true, a diligent Editor

may
find
many

such Errors committed even in the first printed Copies ; but it has not often been Mr. Pope's good Fortune to

m. I dare warrant, the Printers made no Blunder in this Instance; and therefore I have made bold to restore the Speech to its right Owner. Brutus esteem'd the Death of Cæsar a Sacrifice to Liberty: and, as such, gloried in his heading the Enterprize. Besides, our Poet is strictly copying a Fact in History Plutarch, in the Life of Cefar, fays, Brutus and his Followers, being yet hot with the Murther, « inarch'd in a Body from the Senate house to the Capitol, with their " drawn Swords, with an Air of Confidence and Assurance." And, in the Life of Brutus, Brutus and his Party betook themselves to the

Capitol, and in their way therving their Hands all bloody, and their "naked Swords, proclaim'd Liberty co the People."

Dec.

.

Dec. What, shall we forth?

Caf. Ay, every man away.
Brutus Thall lead, and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest, and belt hearts of Rome.

Enter a Servant.

Bru.. Soft, who comes here? A Friend of Antony's.
Ser. Thus, Brutus, did my Master bid me kneel;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; [kneeling
And, being proftrate, thus he bad me say.
Brutus is noble, wise, valiant and honest;
Cæfar was mighty, royal, bold and loving;
Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him;
Say, I fear'd Cæfar, honour'd him, and lov'd him.
If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
May safely come to him, and be resolv’d
How Cæsar hath deserv'd to lie in death:
Mark Antony shall not love Cæfar dead,
So well as Brutus living; but will follow
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus,
Thorough the hazards of this untrod State,
With all true faith. So says my Master Antony.

Bru. Thy Master is a wise and valiant Roman ;
I never thought him worse.
Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour,
Depart untouch'd.

Sero. I'll fetch him presently. [Exit Servant.
Bru. I know, that we shall have him well to friend.

Caf. I wish, we may: but yet have I a mind, That fears him much; and my misgiving still Falls fhrewdly to the purpose.

Enter Antony, Bru. But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark An.

tony. Ant. O mighty Cæfar! dost thou lye fo low? Are all thy Conquests, Glories, Triumphs, Spoils,

(19) Shrunk

M 3

(19) Shrunk to this little measure? - fare thee well,
I know not, Gentlemen, what you intend,
Who else must be let blood, who else is rank;
If I my self, there is no hour so fit
As Cerar's death's hour; nor no instrument
Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich
With the most noble blood of all this world.
I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,
Now whilft your purpled hands do reck and smoak,
Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand

years,
I shall not find my self fo apt to die :
No place will please me so, no meane of death,
As here by Cæjar, and by you cut off,
The choice and master spirits of this age.

Bru: O Antony ! beg not your death of us :
Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,
As, by our hands, and this our present act,
You see, we do; yet see you but our hands,
And this the bleeding business they have done :
Our hearts you fee not, they are pitiful ;
And pity to the general wrong of Rome
(As fire drives out fire, to pity, pity ;)
Hath done this deed on Cæfar: For your part,
To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony;
Our arms exempt from malice, and our hearts
Of brothers' temper, do receive you in
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.

Caf. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's
In the disposing of new dignities.
**Bru. 'Only be patient, 'rill we have appeas'd
The multitude, beside themselves with fear;
And then we will deliver you the cause,
Why I, that did love Cæfar when I ftrook him,
Proceeded thus.

Ant. I doubt not of
Let each man render me his bloody hand;

(19) Shrunk to this little measure?] Perhaps, our Poet might have Juvenal in his View, here;

Mors fola fatetur,
Quantula Airt bominum Corpuscula

First,

your wisdom.

First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;
Next, Caius Cafius, do I take your hand;
Now, Decius Brutus, yours ; now yours, Metellus ;
Yours, Cinna ; and my valiant Casca, yours;
Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius.
Gentlemen all ----- alas, what shall I say?
My credit now stands on such fippery ground,
That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,
Either a Coward, or a Flatterer.
That I did love thee, Cæfar, oh, 'tis true;
If then thy Spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy death,
To see thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
Most Noble! in the presence of thy corfe?
Had I as many eyes, as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better, than to close
In terms of friendship with thine enemics.
Pardon me, Julius - here wast thou bay'd, brave hart;
Here didft thou fall, and here thy hunters stand
Sign'd in thy spoil, (20) and crimson'd in thy death.
o world! thou waft the forest to this hart,
And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thec.
How like a deer, stricken by many Princes,
Dost thou here lye?

Caf. Mark Antony

Ant. Pardon me, Caius Casius : The enemies of Cæfar fhall say this : Then, in a friend, it is cold modefty.

Caf. I blame you not for praising Cæfar so, But what compact mean you to have with us?

(20) And crimfon'd in thy Death.] All the old Copies, that I have feen, read, Letbe. The Dictionaries, indeed, acknowledge no such Word : and as the I might have mistakingly been formd from an ob {cure D, not taking the Ink equally in all Parts, I have suffer'd the more known Word to ftand in the Text; tho', indeed, I am not with. out Suspicion of our Poet's having either coin'd the other Term, or co pied it from some obsolete Author, whe had adopted it from the Lethum of the Latines ; which, 'tis well known, was used for Death, as well as Destruction, Ruine, Havock, &c.

Will

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