But in our felves, 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 incompass'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 ftate in Rome,

As eafily as a King.

Ι

Bru. That do love me,
you
am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have some 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 said,
I will confider; what you have to fay,
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 fon 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 pass by, pluck Cafca 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, Cafar, 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 should avoid,

So foon as that spare 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 such a fort,
As if he mock'd himself, and fcorn'd his fpirit,
That could be mov'd to smile 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: Cafca, 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 so fad.

Cafca. Why, you were with him, were you not? Bru. I fhould not then ask Casca 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?
Cafca. Why, for that too.

Caf. They fhouted thrice: what was the laft cry

for ?

Cafca. Why, for that too.

Bru. Was the crown offer'd him thrice?

Cafea. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by, mine honest 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 loth 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 houted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw up their sweaty night caps, and utter'd fuch a deal of ftinking breath, because Cæfar refus'd the crown, that it had almost choaked Cafar; 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 Cafar fwoon?

Cafca.

Cafca. He fell down in the market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechless.

Bru. 'Tis very like; he hath the falling Sickness. Caf. No, Cafar hath it not; but you and I, And honeft Cafca, we have the falling-fickness.

Cafca. I know not what you mean by that; but, I am fure, Cafar fell down: If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hifs him, according as he pleas'd, and difpleas'd them, as they used to do the Players in the Theatre, I am no true man.

Bru. What faid he, when he came unto himself?

Cafca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refus'd the Crown, he pluckt me ope his doublet, and offer'd them his throat to cut: An' I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues; and fo he fell. When he came to himself again, he faid, "If he had done, or "faid any thing amifs, he defir'd their Worships to "think it was his infirmity." Three or four wenches where I ftood, cry'd," alas, good foul!". -and forgave him with all their hearts: but there's no heed to be taken of them; if Cæfar had stabb'd their mothers, they would have done no lefs.

Bru. And after that, he came, thus fad, away?
Cafca. Ay.

Caf. Did Cicero fay any thing?

Cafca. Ay, he spoke Greek.
Caf. To what effect?

Cafca. Nay, an' I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i'th' face again. But thofe, that understood him, fmil'd at one another, and fhook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Cafar's Images, are put to filence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Caf. Will you fup with me to night, Cafca?
Cafca. No, I am promis'd forth.

Caf. Will you dine with me to morrow?

Cafca. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner be worth the eating.

Caf.

Caf. Good, I will expect you.
Cafca. Do fo: farewel Both.

Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be?
He was quick mettle, when he went to fchool.
Caf. So is he now, in execution

Of any bold or noble enterprize,
However he puts on this tardy form:
This rudeness is a fawce to his good wit,
Which gives men stomach to digest his words
With better appetite.

[Exit.

Bru. And fo it is: for this time I will leave you.
To morrow, if you please to speak with me,
I will come home to you; or, if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for you.
Caf. I will do fo; till then, think of the world.
[Exit Brutus.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I fee,
Thy honourable Metal may be wrought
From what it is difpos'd; therefore 'tis meet,
That noble minds keep ever with their likes:
For who fo firm, that cannot be feduc'd ?
Cafar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus.
If I were Brutus now, and he were Caffius,
He should not humour me.- -I will, this night,
In feveral hands, in at his windows throw,
As if they came from feveral citizens,
Writings, all tending to the great opinion
That Rome holds of his name: Wherein obfcurely
Cafar's ambition fhall be glanced at.

And, after this, let Cæfar feat him fure;
For we will shake him, or worse days endure.

Exit.

Thunder and lightning. Enter Cafca, his fword drawn; and Cicero, meeting him.

Cic. Good even, Cafca; brought you Cafar home? Why are you breathless, and why ftare you fo?

Cafea. Are not you mov'd, when all the fway of earth

Shakes likes a thing unfirm? O Cicero !

I have feen tempeits, when the scolding winds