To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.' 2 Cit. Most noble Cæsar!—we'll revenge his death. 3 Cit. O royal Cæsar! Ant. Hear me with patience. Cit. Peace, ho! Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, And with the brands fire the traitors' houses. 2 Cit. Go, fetch fire. 3 Cit. Pluck down benches. 4 Cit. Pluck down forms, windows, any thing. [Exeunt Citizens, with the body. Ant. Now let it work: Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt!-How now, fellow? Enter a Servant. Serv. Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome. Ant. Where is he? Serv. He and Lepidus are at Cæsar's house. Serv. I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius A drachma was a Greek coin of the value of seven-pence three farthings. [J. CES. 52] SCENE III.-The same. A street. Enter CINNA, the poet. Cin. I dreamt to-night, that I did feast with Cæsar, And things unluckily charge my fantasy: I have no will to wander forth of doors, Yet something leads me forth. Enter Citizens. 1 Cit. What is your name? 4 Cit. Are you a married man, or a bachelor? 1 Cit. Ay, and briefly. 4 Cit. Ay, and wisely. 3 Cit. Ay, and truly, you were best. Cin. What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I a married man, or a bachelor? Then to answer every man directly, and briefly, wisely, and truly. Wisely I say, I am a bachelor. 2 Cit. That's as much as to say, they are fools that marry:-You'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed; directly. Cin. Directly, I am going to Cæsar's funeral. Cin. As a friend. 2 Cit. That matter is answered directly. Cin. Truly, my name is Cinna. 1 Cit. Tear him to pieces, he's a conspirator. 1 Meaning, he should suffer for that. [J. CÆS. 53] 2 D 4 Cit. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses. 2 Cit. It is no matter, his name's Cinna; pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going. 3 Cit. Tear him, tear him. Come, brands, ho! fire-brands. To Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all. Some to Decius' house, and some to Casca's; me to Ligarius' away; go. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I.—The same. A room in Antony's house." ANTONY, OCTAVIUS, and LEPIDUS, seated at a table. Ant. These many then shall die; their names are prick'd. Oct. Your brother too must die; Consent you, Lepidus? Lep. I do consent. Oct. Prick him down, Antony. Lep. Upon condition Publius shall not live, Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.' Ant. He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn But, Lepidus, go you to Cæsar's house; Oct. The Capitol. [him. Or here, or at [Exit LEPIDUS. Ant. This is a slight unmeritable man, 'This scene, conformably to historical fact, ought to have been laid in a little island near Mutina, on the river Livinius. Lucius, not Publius, was the person meant, who was uncle by the mother's side to Mark Antony. [J. Cæs. 54] Meet to be sent on errands: Is it fit, The three-fold world divided, he should stand Oct. Ant. Octavius, I have seen more days than you: And though we lay these honours on this man, To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads, He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold, To groan and sweat under the business, Either led or driven, as we point the way; And having brought our treasure where we will, Then take we down his load, and turn him off, Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears, And graze in commons. Oct. You may do your will; But he's a tried and valiant soldier. go forth: Ant. So is my horse, Octavius; and, for that, Our best friends made, and our best means stretch'd [out; He is one that cannot draw from his own resources, but is curious about external objects, and, in particular, the imitative arts. [J. Cæs. 55] 2 D 2 How covert matters may be best disclos'd, Oct. Let us do so: for we are at the stake, And some, that smile, have in their hearts, I fear, [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Before Brutus' tent, in the camp near Sardis. Drum. Enter BRUTUS, LUCILIUS, LUCIUS, and Soldiers: TITINIUS, and PINDARUS meeting them. Bru. Stand here. Luc. Give the word, ho! and stand. Bru. What now, Lucilius? is Cassius near? To do you salutation from his master. [PINDARUS gives a letter to BRUTUS. Bru. He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus, In his own change,' or by ill officers, Hath given me some worthy cause to wish Pin. I do not doubt, But that my noble master will appear Such as he is, full of regard, and honour. Bru. He is not doubted.-A word, Lucilius; How he receiv'd you, let me be resolv'd. Luc. With courtesy, and with respect enough; Nor with such free and friendly conference, Bru. Thou hast describ'd A hot friend cooling: Ever note, Lucilius, |