meddle with no man's matters, nor woman's matters ; but withall, I am indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old fhoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather have gone upon my handywork,
Flav, But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ?
2 Pleb. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get my felf into more work. But indeed, Sir, we make holiday to fee Cæfar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
Mar. Wherefore rejoice !-what conqueft brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! O you hard hearts ! you cruel men of Rome! Knew you not Pompey! many a time and oft Have
you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have fat The live-long day with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome : And when
you
saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tyber trembled underneath his banks To hear the replication of your sounds, Made in his concave shores ? And do you now Put on your best attire? and do Cull out an holiday ? and do you now Strew flowers in his way, that comes to Rome In triumph over Pompey's blood ? Be gone, Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the Gods, to intermit the plague, That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fauls Affemble all the poor men of your fort, Draw them to Tyber's bank, and weep your tears Into the channel, 'till the lowest stream Do kiss the moft exalted shores of all.
[Exe, Pleb. See whe'r their basest mettle be not mov'd; They vanifh'd tongue-cy'd in their guiltiness.
Go
Go you down that way tow'rds the Capitol, This way will I; disrobe the images, If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
Mar. May we do so ? You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
Flav. It is no matter ; let no images Be hung with Cæsar's trophies ; I'll about, And drive away the vulgar from the streets : So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These growing feathers pluckt from Cæsar's wing Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, Who else would soar above the view of men, And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [Exeunt severally.
SCENE II, Enter Cæsar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decimus, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, and a Soorbsayer. Cæf. Calphurnia ! Calp. Peace, ho! Cæfar speaks. Cæj. Calpburnia Calp. Here, my Lord,
Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he dothorun his course - Antonius!
Ant. Cæfar, my Lord.
Cæs. Forget not in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia ; for our elders say, The barren touched in this holy chase, Shake off their steril course.
Ant. I shall remember. When Cafar lays, Do this; it is perform’d.
Caf. Set on, and leave no ceremony out. Sootb. Casar! Cæs. Ha!' who calls ? Casc. Bid every noise be Aill; peace yet again, Cæs. Who is in the press that calls on me! I hear a tongue Thriller than all the musick, Cry, Cæfar! (peak; Cæsar is turn’d to hear.
Sooth. Beware the Ides of Marcb. Cæs. What man is that? Bru. A luoih-sayer bids you beware the Ides of March. Caf. Set him before me, let me see liis face.
Caf
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cas
. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cæfare ces. What say'st thou to me now? speak once again. Sootb. Beware the Ides of Marcb. Caf. He is a dreamer, let us leave him; pass.
[Exeunt. Manent Brutus and Caffius, .
SCENE III. Caf. Will you go see the order of the course ? Bru. Not I. Cas. I pray you do.
Bru. I am not gamesome; I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony : Let me not hinder, Caffius, your desires ;
Caf. Brutus, I do observe you now of late ; I have not from your eyes that gentleness And shew of love, as I was wont to have; You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you.
Brú. Cafius, Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look, I turn the trouble of my countenance Meerly upon my self. Vexed I am Of late, with passions of some difference, Conceptions only proper to my self, Which give some soil, perhaps, to my
behaviour : But let not therefore my good friends be griev’d, Among which number, Cafius, be you one, Nor cunítrue any further my neglect, Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shews of love to other men.
Caf. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion, By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Caffius; for the eye sees not it self, But by reflexion from some other things.
Cal. 'Tis just. And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no such mirrors, as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard : Where many of the best respect in Rome, (Except immortal Cesar) speaking of Brutus, And groaning underneath this age's yoak, Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Caffius, That you would have me seek into my self, For that which is not in me?
Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar’d to hear : And since you know you cannot see your self So well as by reflexion ; I, your glass, Will modestly discover to your self That of your self, which yet you know not of. And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus : Were I a common laugher, or did use To stale with ordinary, oaths my love To every new protestor ; if you
know That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, And after scandal them ; or if you know That I profess my self in banqueting To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish and fhout, Bru. What means this shouting ? I do fear, the people Chuse Cæfar for their King.
Caf. Ay, do you fear it Then mut I think you would not have it so.
Bru. I would not, Caffius ; yet I love him well : But wherefore do you hold me here so long? What is it that you would impart to me ?
If it be ought toward the general good, À Set honour in one eye, and death i'ch other,
And I will look on death indifferently : For let the Gods so speed me, as I love The name of honour, more than I fear death.
Caf. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, As well as I do know your outward favour. Well, honour is the subject of my story: I cannot tell, what you and other men Think of this life; but for my fingle self, I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I my self, I was born free as Cæfar, so were you ; We both have fed as well, and we can both Endure the winter's cold, as well as he. For once, upon a raw and gusty day, The troubled Tyber chafing with his shores, Cæsar says to me, Dar'A tbou, Caffius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim * to yonder point ? upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bad him follow ; fo indeed he did. The torrent roar’d, and we did buffet it With lusty finews, throwing it afide, And Itemming it with hearts of controverfie. But ere we could arrive the point propos’d, Cæfar cry'd, Help me, Caffius, or I fink. I, as Æneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Ancbises bear, so, from the waves of Tyber Did I the tired Cæfar: and this man Is now become a God, and Caffius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body, If Cæfar carelesly but nod on him. He had a feaver when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake : 'tis true, this God did shake; His coward lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, Did lose its lustre ; I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bad the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, Alas it cry?d, Give me some drink, Titinius As a fick girl. Ye Gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestick world, And bear the palm alone.
(Sbouts. Flourish. Bru. Another general shout! * Swimming was one of the generous exercises practised at Rome, and learnt by all the youth of the best birth and quality as a necefCary qualification towards good foldiership.
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