Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the People Chufe Cæfar for their King.

Caf. Ay, do you fear it?

Then must I think, you would not have it fo.
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 aught toward the general good,
Set Honour in one eye, and Death i'th' other,
And I will look on Death indifferently: (3)
For, let the Gods fo fpeed 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 fubject 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 fuch a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæfar, fo 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,

(3) And I will look on both indifferently;} What a Contradiction to this, are the Lines immediately fucceeding? If he lov'd Honour, more than he fear'd Death, how could they be both indifferent to him? Honour thus is but in equal Balance to Death, which is not fpeaking at all like Brutus: for, in a Soldier of any ordinary Pretenfion, it should always preponderate. We must certainly read,

And I will look on Death indifferently.

What occafion'd the Corruption, I prefume, was, the Transcribers imagining, the Adverb indifferently must be applied to Two things ppos'd. But the Ufe of the Word does not demand it; nor does Shakespeare always apply it fo. In the present Paffage it fignifies, neglectingly; without Fear, or Concern: And so Casca afterwards, again in this act, employs it.

And Dangers are to me indifferent.

i, e. I weigh them not; am not deterr'd on the Score of Danger.

5

Mr. Warburton.

The

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The troubled Tyber chafing with his fhores,
Cafar fays to me, " dar'ft thou, Caffius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
"And fwim to yonder point?" Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bid him follow; fo, indeed, he did.
The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lufty finews; throwing it afide,
And stemming it with hearts of controverfy.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cafar 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 Anchifes bear, fo, from the waves of Tyber
Did I the tired Cafar: and this man

Is now become a God; and Caffius is

A wretched creature, and muft bend his body,
If Cafar carelesly but nod on him.

He had a fever 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 fame eye, whofe Bend doth awe the world,
Did lofe its luftre; I did hear him groan:

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his fpeeches in their books,
Alas! it cry'd-"give me fome drink, Tisinius".
As a fick girl. Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of fuch a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestick world,
And bear the Palm alone.

Bru. Another general shout!

I do believe, that these applauses are

[Shout. Flourish.

For fome new honours that are heap'd on Cafar.

Caf. Why, man, he doth beftride the narrow world Like a Coloffus; and we petty men

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about.

Men at fome times are mafters of their fates:

To find ourselves difhonourable graves.

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Brutus and Cæfar! what should be in that Cæfar ?
Why should that name be founded, more than yours?
Write them together; yours is as fair a name:
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
Brutus will start a fpirit, as foon as Cæfar.
Now in the names of all the Gods at once,
Upon what meat does this our Cæfar feed,
That he is grown fo great? Age, thou art fham'd;
Rome, thou haft loft the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, fince the great flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
When could they fay, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls incompafs'd but one man?
Now is it Rome, indeed; and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man.
Oh! you and I have heard our fathers fay,

There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd
Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome,
As eafily as a King.

Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous
What you
would work me to, I have fome aim;
How I have thought of this, and of these times,
I fhall recount hereafter: for this prefent,
I would not (fo with love I might intreat you)
Be any further mov'd. What you have faid,
I will confider; what you have to say,

I will with patience hear; and find a time
Both meet to hear, and answer fuch high things.
"Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this;
Brutus had rather be a villager,

Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under fuch hard conditions, as this time

Is like to lay upon us..

Caf, I am glad that my weak words

Have ftruck but thus much fhew of fire from Brutus.

Enter Cæfar and his Train.

Bru. The Games are done, and Cæfar is returning.

Caf

Caf. As they pafs by, pluck Cafea by the fleeve,
And he will, after his four fashion tell you,
What hath proceeded worthy note to day.

Bru. I will do fo; but look you, Caffius,
The angry fpot doth glow on Cafar's brow,
And all the reft look like a chidden train.
Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero
Looks with fuch ferret, and fuch fiery eyes,
As we have seen him in the Capitol,
Being croft in conf'rence by fome Senators.
Caf. Cafca will tell us what the matter is.
Caf. Antonius, -

Ant. Cæfar?

Caf. Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and fuch as fleep a-nights:
Yond Caffius has a lean and hungry look,
He thinks too much; fuch men are dangerous.
Ant. Fear him not, Cæfar, he's not dangerous;
He is a noble Roman, and well given.

Caf. 'Would he were fatter; but I fear him not:
Yet if my name were liable to fear,

I do not know the man I fhould avoid,

So foon as that fpare Caffius. He reads much;
He is a great obferver; and he looks

Quite through the deeds of men. He loves no plays,
As thou doft, Antony; he hears no mufick:
Seldom he fmiles; and fmiles in fuch a fort,
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his fpirit,
That could be mov'd to fmile at any thing.
Such men as he be never at heart's ease,
Whilft they behold a greater than themselves;
And therefore are they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,
Than what I fear; for always I am Cæfar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly, what thou think'st of him.

[Exeunt Cæfar and his Train.

Manent

.

Manent Brutus and Caffius: Casca, to them.

Cafca. You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?

Bru. Ay, Cafca, tell us what hath chanc'd to-day, That Cafar looks fo fad.

Cafca. Why, you were with him, were you not?

Bru. I fhould not then ask Cafea what had chanc'd. Cafca. Why, there was a crown offer'd him; and being offer'd him, he put it by with the back of his hand thus, and then the people fell a fhouting.

Bru. What was the fecond noise for?
Cafea. Why, for that too.

Cal. They fhouted thrice: what was the last cry for?
Cafea. Why, for that too.

Bru. Was the crown offer'd him thrice?

Cafca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by, mine honeft neighbours fhouted.

Caf. Who offer'd him the crown ?

Cafca. Why, Antony.

Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Cafca.

Cafca. I can as well be hang'd, as tell the manner of it it was meer foolery, I did not mark it. I faw Mark Antony offer him a crown; yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets; and, as I told you, he put it by once; but for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offer'd it to him again: then he put it by again; but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offer'd it the third time; he put it the third time by; and ftill as he refus'd it, the rabblement hooted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw up their fweaty night-caps, and utter'd fuch a deal of ftinking breath, becaufe Cafar refus'd the crown, that it had almost choaked Cæfar; for he fwooned, and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I durft not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, and receiving the bad air.

Caf. But, foft, I pray you; what, did Cæfar fwoon?

Cafcas