It did not lie there, when I went to bed. [Gives him the letter. Bru. Look in the kalendar, and bring me word. Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air, [Exit, [Opens the letter, and reads, Brutus, thou sleep'ft; awake, and see thyself: Brutus, thou sleep'ft: awake. Such inftigations have been often dropt, Where I have took them up: Shall Rome-thus muft I piece it out, "Shall Rome ftand 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, frike, redress,am I entreated To fpeak, and ftrike? O Rome! I make thee promife, 4 Is not to-morrow, boy, the FIRST of March] We fhould read IDES: For we can never fuppofe the fpeaker to have loft fourteen days in his account. He is here plainly ruminating on what the foothfayer told Cafar [A&t I. Scene 2.] in his prefence. -Beware the Ides of March.] The boy comes back and fays, Sir, March is wafted fourteen days. So that the morrow was the Ides of March, as he fuppofed. For March, May, July, and October, had fix nones each, fo that the fifteenth of March was the Ides of that month. WARB. Enter Enter Lucius. Luc. Sir, March is wafted fourteen days. [knocks within. Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; fome body knocks. [Exit Lucius, Since Caffius firft did whet me against Cæfar, I have not flept. "Between the acting of a dreadful thing, And the first motion, all the interim is 6 Between the acting of a dreadful thing, And the firft motion, &c.] That nice critic, Dionyfius of Halicarnafus, complains, that, of all. kind of beauties, thofe great ftrokes, which he calls the terrible graces, and which are so frequent in Homer, are the rareft to be found in the following wri. ters. Amongst our countrymen it feems to be as much confined to the British Homer. This defcription of the condition of confpirators, before the execution of their defign, has a pomp and terror in it that perfectly aftonifhes. The excellent Mr. Addifon, whofe modefty made him fometimes diffident in his own genius, but whofe true judgment always led him to the fafeft guides, (as we may fee by thofe many fine ftrokes in his Cato borrowed from the Philippics of Ci Like cero) has paraphrafed this fine defcription; but we are no longer to expect thofe terrible graces which animate his original. I O think, what anxious moments pass between The birth of pilots, and their laft fatal periods. Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time, Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death. Cato. fhall make two remarks on this fine imitation, The first is, that the fubjects of the two confpiracies being fo very different, (the fortunes of Cæfar and the Roman Empire being concerned in the one; and that of a few auxiliary troops only in the other) Mr. Addifon could not, with propriety, bring in that magnificent circumftance which gives one of the terrible graces of Shakespeare's defcription; The Genius, and the Mortal Inftruments Are then in CouncilFor Kingdoms, in the Pagan Theology, befides their good, had their evil Genius's, likewife, reprefented here, with the most daring ftretch of fancy, as fitting Like a phantafma, or a hideous dream; Enter Lucius. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Caffius at the door, in confultation with the confpira- Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time, Fill'd up with Horror all, and big with death, All the Int'rim is -the State of Man, then The Nature of an infurrection. Comparing the troubled mind of a confpirator to a state of Anarchy, is juft and beautiful; but the intrim, or interval, to an bideous vifion, or a frightful dream, holds fomething fo won derfully of truth, and lays the foul fo open, that one can hardly think it poffible for any man, who had not fome time or other been engaged in a conspiracy, to give fuch force of colouring to Nature. WARBURTON The vor of the Greek criticks does not, I think, mean fentiments which raise fear, more than wonder, or any other of the tumultuous paffions; To devov is that which trikes, which aftonibes, with the idea either of fome great fubject, or of the author's abilities. Dr. Warburton's pompous criticifra might well have been fhortened. The Genius is not the 'genius of a kingdom, nor are the inftruments, confpirators. ShakeSpeare is defcribing what paffes in a fingle bofom, the infurrection which a confpirator feels agitating the little kingdom of his own mind; when the Genius, or power that watches for his protection, and the mortal inftruments, the paffions, which excite him to a deed of honour and danger, are in council and debate; when the defire of action and the care of fafety, keep the mind in continual fluctuation and disturbance. Luc. Luc, No, Sir, there are more with him. Bru. Do you know them? Luc. No, Sir, their hats are pluckt about their ears, And half their faces buried in their cloaks; That by no means I may discover them Bru. Let them enter. They are the faction. O Confpiracy! [Exit Lucius. Sham'st thou to fhew thy dang'rous brow by night, Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough, racy; Hide it in Smiles and Affability; * For if thou path, thy native femblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention. Enter Caffius, Cafca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius. Caf. I think, we are too bold upon your Rest. Good-morrow, Brutus. Do we trouble you? Bru. I have been up this hour; awake all night. Know I these men, that come along with you? [Afide, Caf. Yes, every man of them; and no man here, But honours you; and every one doth wish, You had but that opinion of your felf, Which every noble Roman bears of you, 8 For if thou path, thy native Semblance on,] If thou walk in thy true form. Bru. Bru. He is welcome too. Caf. This, Cafca; this, Cinna; And this, Metellus Cimber. Bru. They are all welcome. What watchful cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your eyes and night? Caf. Shall I entreat a word? They whisper. Dec. Here lies the Eaft: doth not the day break, here? Cafca. No. Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey lines, That fret the Clouds, are meffengers of day. Cafca. You fhall confefs, that you are both deceiv'd: Here, as I point my fword, the Sun arises, Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one. Bru. No, not an oath. 9 No, not an oath; if that the FACE of men, &c.] The confpirators propose an oath as the fanction of their mutual faith. This, Bratus, very much in charatter, oppofes: Becaute an oath was the ufual cement of thofe lawless cabals, which have not virtue enough in themselves to keep their members together: On this confideration his argument against an oath turns: And the motives he thought fufficient to preserve faith amongst them, were thefe: The ffferance of their fouls, i. e. their commiferation for expiring liberty: The If not the face of men, The time's abuse, i. e. the general corruption of manners which had reduced publick liberty to this condition; and which, that liberty restored, would reform. But now, what is The FACE of men? Did he mean they had honeft looks. This was a poor and low obfervation, unworthy Brutus, and the occafion, and the grandeur of his fpeech: Befides, it is foreign to the turn and argument of his difcourfe, which is to fhew the ftrong cement of the confederacy, from the juftice of their caufe, not from the natural honour of the confpirators. His argument |