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Low-crooked curt'sies, and base spaniel fawning.
If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him,
Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, To sound more sweetly in great Cæsar's ear, For the repealing of my banished brother?
Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæsar; Desiring thee, that Publius Cimber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
Cæs. What, Brutus !
Pardon, Cæsar; Cæsar, pardon:
As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,
To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks,
Let me a little show it, even in this;
That I was constant, Cimber should be banish'd,
Cin. O Cæsar,
Casca. Speak, hands for me. [CASCA stabs CESAR in the neck. CÆSAR catches hold of his arm. He is then stabbed by several other Conspirators, and at last by MARCUS BRUTUS.
Cæs. Et tu, Brute?-Then fall, Cæsar.
Cin. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!—
Bru. People, and senators! be not affrighted;
Bru. Where's Publius?
[Dies. The Senators and People retire in confusion.
Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. Met. Stand fast together, lest some friend 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.
Cas. And leave us, Publius; lest 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.
Cas. Where's Antony?
And Cassius too.
Fled to his house amaz'd: Men, wives, and children, stare, cry out, and run, As it were dooomsday.
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.
[J. CES. 38]
Shakspeare's use of the double negative has been already • Amount of days that men, &c.
Cas. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life,
Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
Cas. Stoop then, and wash.-How many ages hence, Shall this our lofty scene be acted over,
In states unborn, and accents yet unknown?
Bru. How many times shall Cæsar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey's basis lies along,
No worthier than the dust?
So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of us be call'd
Enter a Servant.
Bru. Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony's.
Say, I fear'd Cæsar, honour'd him, and lov'd him.
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state,
I never thought him worse.
Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
I'll fetch him presently.
Bru. I know, that we shall have him well to friend. Cas. I wish, we may but yet have I a mind, That fears him much; and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
Bru. But here comes Antony.-Welcome, Mark
Ant. O mighty Cæsar! Dost thou lie so low?
As Cæsar'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, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
I shall not find myself so apt to die:
No place will please me so, no mean of death,
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,
grown too high for the public safety.
[J. Cæs. 40]
You see we do; yet see you but our hands,
Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's, In the disposing of new dignities.
Bru. Only be patient, till we have appeas'd
Ant. I doubt not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand: First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you :Next, Caius Cassius, 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 slippery ground, That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward or a flatterer.
That I did love thee, Cæsar, O, 'tis true:
Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy death,'
[J. CAS. 41]