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Cob. Truly Sir, all that I live by, is the Awl: I med. dle with no Tradesman's Matters, for Woman's Matters ; but withal, 'I am indeed, Sir, a Surgeon to old Shooes; when they are in great Danger, I recover them. As proper Men as ever trod upon Neats-Leather, have gone upon my handy-work.

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to Day? Why dost thou lead thefe Men about the Streets?

Cob. Truly Sir, to wear out their Shooes, to get my
self into more work. But indeed Sir, we make Holy-day
to fee Cafar, and to rejoyce in his Triumph.
Mur. Wherefore rejoyce What Conquest 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 fate
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 you now cull out an Holy-day?
And do you now strew Flowers in his way,
That comes in Triumph over Pompey's Blood?
Be gone
Run to your House', 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 Fault
Assemble all the poor Men of your sort;
Draw them to Tyber Bank, and weep your Tears
Into the Channel, 'till the lowest Stream
Do kiss the most exalted Shores of all. [Excunt Commoners.


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See where their baseft Mettle be not mov'd,
They vanish tongue-tyd in their Guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol,
This way will I; Difrobe the Images,

do find them deck'd with Ceremonies.
Mur. May we do so?
You know it is the Feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter, let no Images
Be hung with Cafar'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 Cæfar's Wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary Pitch,
Who else would foar above the view of Men,
And keep us all in servile Fearfulness.

[Exeunt. Enter Cæsar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia,

Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer ; after them Murellus and Flavius. Caf. Calphurnia. Cask. Peace ho, Cafar speaks. Caf. Calphurnia. Calp. Here, my Lord. Cef. Stand you direaly in Antonio's way, When he doch run his Course. Antonio.

Ant. Cæfar, my Lord.

Caf, Forget not in your speed, Antonio,
To touch Calphurnia; for our Elders say,
The Barren touched in this holy Chase,
Shake off their steril Couse.

Ant. I shall remember.
When Cæfar says, Do this; it is performid.

Caf. Set on, and leave no Ceremony out.
Sooth. Cæfar.
Caf. Ha! Who calls?
Cask. Bid every Noise be still; Peace yet again.

Ces. Who is it in the Press that calls on me?
I hear a Tongue, fhriller than all the Mufick,
Cry, Cafar : Speak; Cefar is turn'd to hear.

Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.
Cap, What Man is that?


Bru. A Sooth-layer bids you beware the Ides of March.
Ces. Ser him before me, let me see his Face
Cas. Fellow, come from the Throng, look upon Cefar.
Caf. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.
Cef. He is a Dreamer, let us leave him; Passo

[Exeunt. Manent Brutus and Callius.
Caf. Will you go see the order of the Cours?
Bru. Not I.
Caf. I pray you do.

Bru. I am not Gamesom; I do lack some part
Of that quick Spirit that is in Antony:
Let me not hinder, Caffius, your Délires;

I'll leave you.

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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 Friends, that love you.

Bru. Caffius,
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veild


I turn the Trouble of my Countenance
Meerly upon my self. Vexed I am
Of late, with Pallions of some Difference,
Conceptions only proper to my felf,
Which give some Soi', perhaps, to my Behaviour :
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which Number Cassius be you one,
Nor construe any further iny. Neglea,
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 felf,
But by Refledion, by some other things.

Caf. 'Tis juft,
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,

have no such mirrors, as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your Eye,


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That you might see your Shadow. I have heard
Where many of the best Relpe& in Rowie,
Except immortal Cafar, speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this Age's Yoak,
Have wil'd that noble Brutas had his Eyes.

Bru. Into what Dangers would you lead me, Cafsins?
That you would bave me feek into my self, ;
For that which is not in me?

Caf. Therefore, good Bruins, be prepard to hear;
And since you know you cannot see your self
So well as by Rif:Sion; 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 Brutas;
Were I a common Laughter, or did use
To stale with ordinary Oaths my Love
To every new Proteftor; 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 io Banqueting
To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.

[Flourish and Shout. Bru. What means this Shouting? I do fear, the People Chuse Cafar for their King.

Caf. Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it lo.

Brø. I would not, Cafias; 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,
Set Honour in one Eye, and Death i'th others
And I will look on both indifferently:
For let the Gods fo fpeed me, as I love
The name of Honour, more than I fear Death.

Case I know that Virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward Favour;
Well, Honour is the subjed of my Story:
I cannot tell, what you and other Men
Think of this Life; but for my single filf,
I had as lief not be, as live to be



In awe of such a Thing as


I was born free as Cæfar, lo were you,
We both have fed as well, and we can both
Endure the Winters cold, as well as he.
For once, upon a raw and gusty Day,
The troubled Zyber chafing with his Shores,
Cæfar says to me, Darst thou 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; so indeed he did.
The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With Lusty Sinews, throwing it aside,
And stemming it with Hearts of Controverfie.
But e'er we could we arrive the Point propos'd,
Cæfar cry'd, Help me Cassins, or I fink.
I, as Æneas, our great Ancestor,
Did from the Flames of Troy, upon his Shoulder
The old Anchises bear, fo, from the Waves of Tyber
Did I che tired Casar: And this Man
Is now become a God, and Cassins is
A wretched Creacure, and must bend his Body,
If Cafar carelesly but nod on him.
He had a Feaver when he was in Spain,
And when the fit was on bim, 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 th. World,
Did lose his 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 cf such a feeble Temper should
So get the Start of the majestick World,
And bear the Palm alone.

[Shout. Flowrish.
Bru. Another general Shout?
I do believe, that these Applauses are
For some new Honours that are heap'd on Cafar.
Caf. Why Man, he doth bestride the narrow World

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