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That should be in a Roman, you do want,
Or else you use not ; you look pale, and gaze,
And put on fear, and cast your self in wonder,
To see the strange impatience of the heav'ns :
But if you would consider the true cause,
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
Why birds and beasts from quality and kind,
Why old men, tools, and children calculate ;
Why all these things change, from their ordinance,
Their natures and pre-formed faculties
To monstrous quality; why, you shall find,
That heaven hath infus'd them with these spirits,
To make them inftruments of fear and warning,
Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca,
Name to thee a man most like this dreadful night;
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
As doth the lion in the Capitol ;
A man no mightier than thy self or me,
In personal action ; yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
Casc. 'Tis Cæfar that you mean; is it not, Cafius?
Caf. Let it be who it is: for Romans now
Have thewes and limbs like to their ancestors ;
But, woe the while! our fathers minds are dead,
And we are govern'd with our mothers fpirits :
Our yoke and suff'rance Thew us womanish.
Calc. Indeed, they say, the Senators to-morrow
Mean to establish Cefar as a King:
And he shall wear his crown by sea, and land,
In every place, save here in Italy.
Caf. I know where I will wear this dagger then.
Cafhus from bondage will deliver Cafius.
Therein, ye Gods, you make the weak most strong ;
Therein, ye Gods, you tyrants do defeat :
Nor ftony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit :
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss it felf.
If I know this; know all the world besides,
That part of tyranny that I do bear,
I can thake off at pleasure.
Casc. So can I :
So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.
Cas. And why should Cæfar be a tyrant then?
Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf,
But that he sees the Romans are but sheep ;
He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
Those that with halte will make a mighty fire,
Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome,
What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves
For the base matter to illuminate
So vile a thing as Cæfar? But, oh grief!
Where haft thou led me? I, perhaps, speak this
Before a willing bondman: then I know
My answer muit be made. But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent.
Caf. You speak to Casca, and to such a man,
That is no fearing tell-tale. Hold my hand:
Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
And I will set this foot of mine as far,
As who goes fartheft.
Cas. There's a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the nobleft-minded Romans,
To under-go, with me, an enterprize,
Of honourable dang'rous consequence;
And I do know, by this they itay for me
In Pompey's porch. For now this fearful night,
There is no itir, or walking in the streets ;
And the complexion of the element
Is feav'rcus, like the work we have in hand,
Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
Enter Cinna. Casc. Stand close a while, for here comes one in haste.
Caf. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gate ; He is a friend. Cinna, where hafte you fo?
Cin. To find out you : who's that? Metellus Cimber?
Casc. No, it is Casca, one incorporate
To our attempts. Am I not staid for, Cinna ?
Cin. I'm glad on't. What a fearful night is this!
There's two or three of us have seen ftrange sights.
Caf. Am I not staid for? tell me.
Cin. Yes you are.
O Caffius! could you win the noble Brutus
Caf. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper,
And look you lay it in the Prætor's chair,
Where Brutus may but find it ; and throw this
In at his window, set this up with wax
Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done,
Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us.
Is 9 'Decimus' Brutus, and Trebonius there?
Cin. All but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, And so bestow these papers as yo
bad me. · Caf. That done, repair to Pompey's theatre, [Exit Cinna. Come, Casca, you and I will, yet, ere day, See Brutus at his house, three parts of him ''Are ours already, and the man entire Upon the next encounter yields him ours.
Cafc. O, he fits high in all the people's hearts :
And that which would appear offence in us,
His countenance, like richest alchymy,
Will change to virtue, and to worthiness.
Caf. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You have right well conceited ; let us go,
For it is after mid-night, and ere day
We will awake him, and be sure of him. [Exeunt.
A Garden belonging to Brutus.
HAT, Lucius! ho!
I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
Give guess how near to day--Lucius, I say!
I would it were my fault to sleep so foundly.
When, Lucius, when ? awake, I say! what, Lucius!
Enter Lucius. Luc. Calld you, my Lord ?
Bru. Gec me a taper in my Itudy, Lucius : When it is lighted, come and call me here. Luc. I will, my Lord.
[Exit. Bru. It must be by his death: and for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him, But for the general. He would be crown'd How that might change his nature, there's the question. It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, And that craves wary walking : crown him that And then I grant we put a sting in him, That at his will he may do danger with. Tl'abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins Remorse from power: and to speak truth of Cæfar, I liave not known when his affections sway'd More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber upward turns his face But when he once atrains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend : fo Cefar may:
Then, left he may, prevent. And since the quarrel
Will bear no colour for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus ; that what he is, augmented,
Would run to these and these extremities :
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg,
Which hatch'd would, as his kind, grow mischievous :
And kill him in the shell.
Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, Sir :
Searching the window for a Aint, I found
This paper, thus seald up, and I am sure
It did not lye there, when I went to bed.
[Gives him a letter. Bru. Get you to bed again, it is not day : Is not to-morrow, boy, the 2 'Ides' of March?
Luc. I know not, Sir.
Bru. Look in the kalendar, and bring me word.
Luc. I will, Sir.
[Exit. Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air, Give so much light, that I may read by them.
[Opens the letter, and reads.
Brutus, thou seep'ft ; awake, and see thy self :
Sball Rome-speak, strike, redress.
Brutus, Ibou seep'st : awake.
Such instigations have been often dropt,
Where I have took them up :
Sball Rome-thus must I piece it out,
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? what, Rome?
My ancestors did from the streets of Rome
The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a King.
Speak, strike, redress. -am I entreated then
To speak, and strike? O Rome! I make thee promise,
If the redress will follow, thou receiv'st
Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus.
Luc. Sir, Marcb is wasted 3'fourteen days.[Knock within:
Bru. 2 firft ...old edit, Warb. emend. 3 fifteen ...old edit. Tbeob, emend.