Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all that is 'long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your
house:

The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune,
And bale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.

Enter another MESSENGER.

Sic. What's the news?

Mess. Good news, good news :-The ladies have
prevail'd,

The Volsces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone :
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sic. Friend,

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire:

Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it!
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,
As the recoinforted through the gates. Why hark
you;

Enter Three or Four CONSPIRATORS of Atri-
DIUS'S Faction.
Most welcome!

1 Con. How is it with our general?
Auf. Even so,

As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
And with his charity slain.

2 Con. Most noble Sir,

If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.

Auf. Sir, I cannot tell :

We must proceed, as we do find the people.

3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all.

Auf. I know it;

And my pretext to strike at him admits

A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd"
Mine honour for his truth: Who being so beigh-

ten'd,

He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free,
3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Auf. That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat; I took him;
Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his project to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designmen s
In mine own person; holp to reap the tame,
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong; till, at the last,
[Shouting again.I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd me with his countenance, † as if
I had been mercenary.

[Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums beaten, all together. Shouting also within. The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you!

Men. This is good news:

I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full of tribunes such as you,

A sea and land full: You have pray'd well to-day;
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and Music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tidings:
Accept my thankfulness.
[next,

Mess. Sir, we have al

Great cause to give great thanks,
Sic. They are near the city?
Mess. Almost at point to enter.
Sic. We will meet them,

And help the joy.

[Going.

Welcome !

[A flourish with Drums and Trumpets.
[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Antium.-A Public Place.
Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants.
Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here:
Deliver them this paper having read it,
Bid them repair to the market-place; where I,
Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse,
The city ports by this hath enter'd, and
Intends to appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words: Despatch.
[Exeunt Attendants.

1 Con. So he did, my lord:

The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last,
When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd
For no less spoil than glory,—

Auf. There was it ;

For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: Therefore shall he die
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

[Drums and Trumpets sound, with great
shouts of the People.

1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a pöst, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise.

2 Con. And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base throats
tear,
With giving him glory.

3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he express himself, or move the people
With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
Which we will second. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury
His reasons with his body.

ABOUT the middle of February, A.U.C. 709, a riotous festival sacred to Pan, and called Lupercalia, was held in honour of Cesar, when the regal crown was offered him by Antony. Iu the middle of the following March be was assassinated. November 27, 710, the Triumvirs, Antony, Lepidus, and Octavius, met at a small island formed by the river Rhenus, near Bononia, and there agreed upon the cruel proscription introduced in A IV.---In 711, Brutus and Cassins were totally defeated at Philippi.---Shakspeare appears to have produced this play about the year 1607: one, upon the same subject, had been written by a young Scotch Nobleman, the Earl of Sterline; and in many passages of each, a strong similarity may be traced :--this was probably occasioned by both authors drawing their materials from the same source.---A Latin play on this subject, by Dr. Eedes, of Oxford, who is enumerated amongst the best tragic authors of that ara, was published in 1582.---Dr. Johusoa says of this tragedy:" Many particular passages deserve regard, and the contention and reconcilement of Brutus and Cassius are universally celebrated, but I have never been strongly agitated in perusing it, and think it somewhat cold and unaffecting, compared with some other of Shakspeare's plays: his adherence to the real story, and to Roman manners, seems to have impeded the natural vigour of his genius."

SCENE: the first three acts at Rome; afterwards at an Island near Mutina, at Sardis; and near

ACT I.

g Cit, Truly, Sir, all that I live by is, with the awl I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor woman's matters, but with awl. I atn, indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a Rabble of are in great danger, I recover them." As proper

SCENE 1.-Rome.-A Street.

CITIZENS.

men as ever trod upon neats-leather, have gone

Flav. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get upon my handy-work.
you bome;

Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day, without the sign

Of your profession ?-Speak, what trade art thou?
1 Cit. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on ?-
You, Sir; what trade are you?

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman?
I am but, as you would say, a cobler.
Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer nee
directly.

2 Cit. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, Sir, a meuder of bad soals.

Mar. What trade, thou knave! thou naughty knave, what trade?

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me yet, if you be out, Sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend

thou saucy fellow?

2 Cit. Why, Sir, cobble you.
Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

me,

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day ? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, St, we make holiday to see Cesar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings
he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his charict 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 armis, and there have sat
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 ber banks
To hear the replication of your sounds,.
Made in her concave shores ?

Scene II.

JULIUS

And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes 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
Assemble all the poor men of your sort; [fault,
Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt CITIZENS.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards 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.

Flac. It is no inatter; let no images
Be hung with Cesar's trophies. † l'il abont,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cesar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch :
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfuluess.

[Exeunt.

CESAR.

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness,
And show of love-as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.

Bru. Cassius,

Be not deceiv'd if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Vexed 1 am,
Merely upon myself.

Of late, with passions of some difference;
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil, perhaps, to my beha-

vionrs :

But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd
(Among which number, Cassius, be you one)
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your
passion, t

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, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection, by some other things.
Cas. '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,..

SCENE II.-The same.-A public Place.
Enter, in Procession, with Music, CESAR ; AN-And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
TONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA,
DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and
CASCA, a great Crowd following, among them
a SOOTHSAYER.

Ces. Calpharuia,

Cosca. Peace, ho! Cesar speaks.

Ces. Calpurnia,-
Cal. Here, my lord.

Ces. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course. -Antonius. Ant. Cesar, my lord.

Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes..
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me,
Cassius,

That yon would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?

14

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, he prepar'd to
hear:
[Music ceases. And, since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laughter, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or, if you know
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish and shout.
Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the
people
Choose Cesar for their king.

Ces. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say, The barren touched in this holy chase, Shake off their steril curse.

Ant. I shall remember:

When Cesar says, Do this, it is perform'd.
Ces. Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

Sooth. Cesar!

Ces. Ha! who calls?

[Music.

Casca. Bid every noise be still:-Peace yet [Music ceases. again. Ces. Who is it in the press that calls on me? 1 hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry, Cesar!-Speak; Cesar is turned to hear. Soatà. Beware the ides of March. Ces. What man is that?

Bra. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of

March.

Ces. Set him before me, let me see his face.
Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon
Cesar.

Ces. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once
again.

Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

Ces. He is a dreamer: let us leave him ;-pass.
[Sennet. Exeunt all but BRU. and CAS.
Cas. 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 par
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
Pil leave you.

• Honorary ornaments; tokens of respect.
↑ Adorned with laurel crowns.
observe at the feast of Lupercalia.

instruments.

1 A ceremony
Flourish of

Cas. Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.
Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love hi
well:-

But wherefore do you hold me here so long!
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye, and death i'the other,
And I will look on beth indifferently;
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.

Cas. 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 single self,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.

I was born free as Cesar; 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 her shores,
Cesar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,