Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen
Th' ambitious ocean fwell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threatning clouds:
But never till to night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempeft dropping fire.
Either there is a civil ftrife in heav'n;
Or else the world, too faucy with the Gods,
Incenses them to send destruction.
Cic. Why, faw you any thing more wonderful? Cafca. A common flave, you know him well byfight,
his left hand, which did flame and burn,
Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand,
Not fenfible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.
Befides, (I ha' not fince put up my sword)
Against the Capitol I met a lion,
Who glar'd upon me, and went furly by,
Without annoying me. And there were drawn
Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,
Transformed with their fear; who fwore, they faw
Men, all in fire, walk up and down the ftreets.
And yesterday, the bird of night did fit,
Ev'n at noon-day, upon the market-place,
Houting and fhrieking. When thefe Prodigies
Do fo conjointly meet, let not men say,
"These are their reasons, they are natural:"
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the Climate, that they point upon.
Cic. Indeed, it is a ftrange-difpofed time:
But men may conftrue things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Comes Cæfar to the Capitol to morrow?
Cafca. He doth: for he did bid Antonius
Send word to you, he would be there to morrow.
Cic. Good night then, Cafca; this disturbed sky
Is not to walk in.
Caf. Who's there?
Cafca. A Roman.
Caf. Cafea, by your voice.
Cafea. Your ear is good. Caffius, what night is this? Caf. A very pleasing night to honeft men.
Cafca. Who ever knew the heav'ns menace fo?
Caf. Thofe, that have known the earth fo full of
faults.
For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perillous night;
And thus unbraced, Cafca, as you fee,
Have bar'd my bofom to the thunder-ftone:
And when the cross blue lightning feem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did prefent my felf
Ev'n in the aim and very flash of it.
Cafca. But wherefore did you fo much tempt the
It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the moft mighty Gods, by tokens, fend
Such dreadful heralds to aftonish us.
Caf. You are dull, Cafca; and those sparks of life,
That should be in a Roman, you do want,
Or elfe you use not; you look pale, and gaze,
And put on fear, and caft your felf in wonder,
To fee the ftrange impatience of the heav'ns:
But if you would confider the true cause,
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghofts,
Why birds and beafts, from quality and kind,
Why old men, fools, and children calculate;
Why all these things change, from their ordinance,
Their natures and pre-formed faculties
To monftrous quality; why, you fhall find,
That heaven has infus'd them with these spirits,
To make them inftruments of fear and warning
Unto fome monftrous ftate.
Now could I, Cafca, name to thee a man
Moft like this dreadful night;
That thunders, lightens, opens Graves, and roars
As doth the lion in the Capitol;
A man no mightier than thy felf, or me,
In personal action; yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
Cafta. 'Tis Cæfar that you mean; is it not, Caffius? Caf. Let it be who it is: for Romans now Have thewes and limbs like to their ancestors; (4) But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, And we are govern'd with.our mothers' fpirits: Our yoke and fuff'rance fhew us womanish.
Cafca. Indeed, they say, the Senators to morrow Mean to establish Cæfar as a King:
And he shall wear his Crown by fea and land,
In every place, fave here in Italy.
Caf. I know, where I will wear this dagger then.
Caffius from bondage will deliver Caffius.
Therein, ye Gods, you make the weak moft ftrong;
Therein, ye Gods, you tyrants do defeat;
Nor ftony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airlefs dungeon, nor ftrong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the ftrength of fpirit:
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss it felf.
If I know this; know all the world befides,
That part of tyranny, that I do bear,
I can shake off at pleasure.
So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.
Caf. And why fhould Cafar be a tyrant then?
Poor man! I know, he would not be a wolf,
But that he fees, the Romans are but sheep;
He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
Those that with hafte will make a mighty fire,
Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome?
What rubbish, and what offal? when it ferves
For the base matter to illuminate
(4) Have thews and Limbs- - Mr. Pope has fubjoin'd, to both his Editions, an Explanation of Thews, as if it fignified, manners or capacities. 'Tis certain, it fometimes has thefe Significations; but he's mistaken strangely to imagine it has any fuch Senfe here: Nor, indeed, do I ever remember its being ufed by our Author in thofe Acceptations. With him, I think, it always fignifies, Mufcles, Sinews, bodily Strength.
So vile a thing as Cæfar? But, oh grief!
Where haft thou led me? I, perhaps, fpeak this
Before a willing bondman: then I know,
My answer must be made. But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent.
Cafea. You fpeak to Cafca, and to fuch a man,
That is no flearing tell-tale. Hold my hand: (5)
Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
And I will fet this foot of mine as far,
As who goes fartheft.
Caf. There's a bargain made.
Now know you, Cafea, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the nobleft-minded Romans,
To undergo, with me, an enterprize
Of honourable dang'rous confequence;
And I do know, by this they stay for me
In Pompey's Porch. For now, this fearful night,
There is no ftir, or walking in the streets;
And the complexion of the element
Is feav'rous, like the work we have in hand;
Moft bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
Cafca. Stand close a while, for here comes one in
Caf. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gate;
He is a friend. Cinna, where hafte you fo?
Cin. To find out you: who's that, Metellus Cimber?
Caf. No, it is Cafca, one incorporate
To our attempts. Am I not ftaid for, Cinna?
Cin. I'm glad on't. What a fearful night is this?
There's two or three of us have seen strange fights.
Caf. Am I not ftaid for? tell me.
O Caffius! could you win the noble Brutus
Hold, my Hand.] This Comma must certainly be remov'd. Cafca bids Caffius take his Hand, as it were to bind their League and Amity. So afterwards, in this Play;
Give me thy Hand, Messala,
And look you lay it in the Prætor's chair,
Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
In at his window; fet this up with wax
Upon old Brutus' Statue: all this done,
Repair to Pompey's porch, where you fhall find us.'
Is Decius Brutus, and Trebonius there?
Cin. All, but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone
To feek you at your house. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these papers, as you bade me.
Caf. That done, repair to Pompey's Theatre..
Come, Cafca, you and I will, yet, ere day,
See Brutus at his houfe; three parts of him
Is ours already, and the man entire
Upon the next encounter yields him ours.
Cafca. O, he fits high in all the people's hearts: And that, which would appear offence in us,.
His countenance, like richeft alchymy,
Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
Caf. Him, and his worth, and our great need of
You have right well conceited; let us go,
For it is after mid-night; and, ere day,
We will awake him, and be fure of him.
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