CCAESAR ICTATOR ACT I. SCENE I. Enter two Roman Senators at one Door, TREBONIUS and CASCA at another. I SENATOR. AIL, good TREBONIUS. 2 SENATOR. Health to worthy CASCA. Sports to-day? I SENATOR. Before this CESAR'S Time, we had no Shews Magnificent as these. P 4 TREBO TREBONIUS. But we had Triumphs: And tho' the Conqueror fate high exalted, CASCA. Oh how our Hearts were fir'd at POMPEY'S Triumphs! Methinks I fee a thousand noble Captives TREBONIUS. But then, at laft, behold ev'n Captive Kings 3 CASCA CASCA. Yet fhew'd a gloomy Comfort through their Sadness, For being vanquifh'd by fo brave a People. TREBONIUS. Which of us, then, oh which of us went home CASCA. Yet ev❜n to POMPEY, Chief of all our State, TREBONIUS. But now we crouch, and stand in fervile awe; CASCA. We meet thefe Murmurs now in ev'ry Mouth; TREBONIUS. Yet CÆSAR, ftill intrepidly Serene, Gocs proudly on, defpifing us, and Danger. SCENE SCENE II. Enter a Crowd of common Tradesmen. CASCA. What's all this Croud, and whither are ye going, On your own Shame, and ftare upon your Bondage I TRADESMAN. I know not what you mean by Shame and Bondage: We go to fee great CÆSAR, and the Sports. CASCA. And much good do you, Friend; You little think, The Man you so admire would be your Master. TRADESMAN. My Mafter! He would fcorn fo mean a Servant. CASCA. [CASCA laughs. I only laugh at you for loving Cæsar. TRADESMAN. Oh, is that all? Well Sir, make bold with me ; CASCA. Betters! Thou fawcy Citizen, be filent. TRADES TRADESMAN. Then I am hush'd. Speak you, Sir. CASCA. What, to Fools? To Men, whofe Minds are funk in low Submiffion? Born free, and yet contented to be Slaves? Form'd like the dull ftrong Horse, to bear a Rider? Well, we may wish, and vent our Rage in Curses: May CÆSAR TRADESMAN. Hold; and hear if he speaks Treason. CASCA. May CESAR live, as long as good Men with him! TRADESMAN. Why, what does this Man mean? he prays for CÆSAR. Long may he live Rome's great, and wife Dictator! TREBONIUS. Oh, my good Friends, how blind are those Defires! Did you but know how much you curfe your felves, No People, fure, would be fuch Self-destroyers, Tho' but in Wifh. Did ever Men before Pray for continuance of a Tyrant Ague That shakes their very Souls? See, how Rome trem bles, And |