Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what. Wherein hath Cæfar thus deferv'd your loves? Alas, you know not; I must tell you then: You have forgot the Will, I told you of. All. Moft true Will. the Will lets stay and hear the Ant. Here is the Will, and under Cæfar's feal. To ev'ry Roman citizen he gives, To ev'ry fev'ral man, fev'nty-five drachma's. 2 Pleb. Moft noble Cæfar! we'll revenge his death. 3 Pleb. O royal Cefar! Ant. Hear me with patience. All. Peace, ho! Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, And with the brands fire all the traitors' houses. 2 Pleb. Go, fetch fire. 3 Pleb. Pluck down benches. 4 Pleb. Pluck down forms, windows, any thing. [Exeunt Plebeians with the body. (13) On this fide Tiber:] The Scene is here in the Forum near the Capitol, and in the most frequented Part of the City; but Cæfar's Gardens were very remote from that Quarter. Trans Tiberim longe cubat is, prope Cæfaris hortos. fays Horace: And both the Naumachia and Gardens of Cafar were feparated from the main City by the River; and lay out wide, on a Line with Mount Janiculum. Our Author therefore certainly wrote; On that fide Tiber; And Plutarch, whom Shakespeare very diligently ftudied, in the Life of Marcus Brutus, fpeaking of Cæfar's Will, exprefly fays, That he left to the Publick his Gardens, and Walks, beyond the Tiber. C. 4 Ant. Ant. Now let it work; Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt! Enter a Servant. How now, fellow? Serv. Octavius is already come to Rome. Serv. He and Lepidus are at Cæfar's house. Serv. I heard him fay, Brutus and Caffius [Exeunt. Enter Cinna the Poet, and after him the Plebeians. Cin. I dreamt to-night, that I did feast with Cafar, And things unluckily charge my fantasy; I have no will to wander forth of doors: 1 Pleb. What is your name? 2 Pleb. Whither are you going? 3 Pleb. Where do you dwell? 4 Pleb. Are you a married man, or a bachelor a Pleb. Anfwer every man, directly. 1 Pleb. Ay, and briefly. 4 Pleb. Ay, and wifely. 3 Pleb. Ay, and truly, you were best. Cin. What is my name? whither am I going? where do I dwell? am I a married man, or a bachelor? then to answer every man directly and briefly, wifely and truly; wifely, I fay I am a bachelor. 2. Pleb. That's as much as to fay, they are fools that marry; you'll bear me a bang for that, I fear; proceed directly. Gin. Directly, I am going to Cafar's funeral. 1 Pleb. As a friend, or an enemy? Cin. As a friend. 2 Pleb. That matter is anfwer'd directly. 1 Pleb. Tear him to pieces, he's a confpirator. Cin. I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet. 4 Pleb. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses. Cin. I am not Cinna the confpirator. 4 Pleb. It is no matter, his name's Cinna; pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going. 3 Pleb. Tear him, tear him; come, brands, ho, firebrands: To Brutus, to Caffius, burn all. Some to Decius's house, And fome to Cafca's, fome to Ligarius: away, go. [Exeunt. SCENE, a fmall Island near Mutina. (14) Enter Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus. · ΤΗ ANTON Y. HESE many. then shall die, their names are prickt. Lep. I do confent. (14) SCENE, a small Island] Mr. Rowe, and Mr. Pope after him, have mark'd the Scene here to be at Rome. The Old Copies fay Nothing of the place. Shakespeare, I dare fay, knew from Plutarch, that thefe Triumvirs met, upon the Profcription, in a little Island: which Appian, who is more particular, fays, lay near Mutina upon the River Lavinius, Octa. Prick him down, Antony. Lep. Upon condition, Publius fhall not live; Who is your filter's fon, Mark Antony. Ant. He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn hím. But, Lepidus, go you to Cafar's house; Fetch the Will hither, and we fhall determine [Exit Lepidus. Ant. This is a flight, unmeritable, man, The three-fold world divided, he should stand Octa. So you thought him; And took his voice who fhould be prick'd to die, Ant. Octavius, I have feen more days than you; And, having brought our treasure where we will, Octa. You may do your will; But he's a try'd and valiant soldier. Ant. So is my horse, Octavius: and, for that, (15) A barren-spirited Fellow, one that feeds On Objects, Arts, and Imitations, &c. forth; On abject Orts, and imitations; Which, out of use, and stal'd by other men, Our best friends made, and our best means ftretcht out; And let us presently go fit in council, How covert matters may be beft difclos'd, And open perils fureft answered. Oata. Let us do fo; for we are at the stake, And bay'd about with many enemies ; And fome, that smile, have in their hearts, I fear, Millions of mifchiefs. [Exeunt. SCENE before Brutus's Tent, in the camp near Sardis. Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucilius, and Soldiers : Titiniuś and Pindarus meeting them. Bru. TAND, ho! STAN Luc. Give the word, ho! and stand'!' Bru. What now, Lucilius ? is Caffius near? To do you falutation from his mafter. Bru. He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus, In his own change, or by ill officers, Hath given me fome worthy cause to wish "Tis hard to conceive, why he fhould be call'd a barren-fpirited Fellow, that could feed either on Objects, or Arts: that is, as I prefume, form his Ideas and Judgment upon them: ftale and obfolete Imitation, indeed, fixes fuch a Character. I am perfuaded, to make the Poet confonant to himself, we must read, as I have reftored the Text. On abject Orts, in e. on the Scraps and Fragments of Things rejected and defpised by others. |