And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you now cull out an 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 that fault

Assemble 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 most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt Commoners.

See, whe're their basest mettle be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-ty'd in their guiltiness.
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 Casar'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 Cafar'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 feverally.
Enter Cæfar, Antony, for the Course, Calphurnia, Por-
cia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Casca, a Sooth-
Sayer.

Caf. Calphurnia,

Cafc. Peace, ho! Cæfar speaks.

Caf. Calphurnia,

Calp. Here, my lord.

Caf. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,

When he doth run his Course - Antonius,

Ant. Cæfar, my lord.

A 4

Caf.

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 Cæfar says, do this; it is perform'd.
Caf. Set on, and leave no ceremony out.
Sooth. Cæfar,

Caf. Ha! who calls ?

Cafc. Bid every noise be still; peace yet again.
Caf. Who is it in the Press, that calls on me?

I hear a tongue, shriller than all the musick,
Cry, Cafar. Speak; Cæfar is turn'd to hear.
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.

Caf. What man is that?

Bru. A footh-fayer bids you beware the Ides of March. Caf. Set him before me, let me fee his face.

Caf. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cafar. Caf. What say'st thou to me now? speak once again. Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.

Cas. He is a dreamer, let us leave him; pass.

[Exeunt Cæfar and Train.

Manent Brutus and Caffius.

Caf. Will you go fee the order of the Course?
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 defires;

I'll leave you.

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 ftubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.

Bru. Caffius,

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

Of

Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself;
Which give some foil, perhaps, to my behaviour:
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Caffius, be you one;
Nor construe any farther 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 fee your face?
Bru. No, Caffius; for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflexion from some other things.

Cas. 'Tis juft.
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 fee your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cafar) 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 feek into myself,
For that which is not in me?

Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hears
And fince you know, you cannot fee yourself
So well as by reflexion; I, your glass,
Will modeftly discover to yourself

That of yourself, 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 myself in banqueting

To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

[Flourish and hout.

Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the People

Chuse Cæfar for their King.
Caf. Ay, do you fear it?

Then must 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 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 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 fuch a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cafar, 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,

(3) And I will look on both indifferently;] What a Contradiction to this, are the Lines immediately succeeding? 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 Ballance to Death, which is not speaking at all like Brutus: for, in a Soldier of any ordinary Pretension, it should always preponderate. We must certainly read,

And I will look on Death indifferently.

What occafion'd the Corruption, I presume, was, the Transcribers imagining, the Adverb indifferently must be applied to Two things oppos'd. But the Use of the Word does not demand it; nor does Shakespeare always apply it so. In the present Passage it fignifies, neglectingly; without Fear, or Concern: And to Cafca afterwards, again in this Act, employs it.

And Dangers are to me indifferent.

weigh them not; am not deterr'd on the Score of Danger, Mr. Warburton.

The

The troubled Tyber chafing with his shores,
Cafar says to me, "dar'st 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 bid him follow; so, indeed, he did.
The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lusty finews; throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of controverfie.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cafar cry'd, "Help me, Cassius, or I fink."
I, as Æneas, our great Ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises 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 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 same eye, whose Bend doth awe the world,
Did lose its luftre; I did hear him groan:
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade 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 fuch a feeble temper should

So get the start of the majestick world,
And bear the Palm alone.

Bru. Another general shout!

[Shout. Flourish.

I do believe, that these applauses are
For fome new honours that are heap'd on Cafar.

Caf Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world

Like a Colossus; and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.

Men at some times are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

But

!