Houting and fhrieking. When these 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 strange-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 difturbed sky
Is not to walk in.

Cafea. Farewel, Cicero.

SCENE VII. Enter Caffius.

Caf. Who's there?

Cafea. A Roman.

Caf Cafea, by your voice.

[Exit Cicero.

Cafea. Your ear is good. Caffius, what night is this? Caf. A very pleafing night to honeft men.

Cafca. Who ever knew the heavens menace fo?.
Caf. Those that have known the earth fo full of faults,
For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perilous 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 myself
Ev'n in the aim and very flash of it.

[heav'ns?

Cafca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the
It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty gods, by tokens, fend

Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.

Caf. You are dull, Cafca; and those sparks of life. That should be in a Roman, you do want, Or elfe you ufe not. You look pale, and gaze, And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder, To fee the strange impatience of the heav'ns: But if you would confider the true cause, Why all these fires, why all thefe gliding ghofts, Why birds and beafts, from quality and kind, VOL. VII.

B.

Why

Why old men, tools, 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 thefe fpirits,
To make them inftruments of fear and warning
Unto fome monftrous ftate.

Now could I, Casca, 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 thyfelf, or me,

In perfonal action; yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as thefe ftrange eruptions are.

Cafea. "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; 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.

Cafea. Indeed they fay the fenators to-morrow
Mean to establish Cæfar as a King :

And he shall wear his crown by sea and land,
In every place, fave here in Italy.

af. I know where I will wear this dagger then. • Caffius from bondage will deliver Caffius.

Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
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 spirit:
But life, being weary of thefe worldly bars,
Never lacks power to difmifs itself.

• If I know this; know all the world befides,
That part of tyranny that I do bear,
I can fhake off at pleasure.

Cafca. So can I:

So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.

Caf. And why fhould Cæfar be a tyrant then?

Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf,

↑ Calculate here fignifies to foretel or propbefy.

But

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 ftraws. What trash is Rome?
What rubbish, and what offal? when it ferves
For the base matter to illuminate

So vile a thing as Cæfar? But, oh, grief!
Where haft thou led me? I perhaps speak 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 speak to Cafca, and to such a man,
That is no flearing tell-tale. Hold my hand:
Be factious for redrefs of all these griefs,
And I will set this foot of mine as far,
As who goes fartheft.

Caf. There's a bargain made.

Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the nobleft-minded Romans,
To undergo, with me, an enterprise
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 elements

Is fev'rous, like the work we have in hand ;
Moft bloody, fiery, and moft terrible.

Enter Cinna.

Cafea. Stand clofe a while, for here comes one in hafte;
Caf. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait ;

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 feen ftrange fights..
Caf. Am I not staid for? tell me.

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' ftatue: 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 houfe. Well, I will hie,
And fo beftow 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.

[Exit Cinna

Cafca. O, he fits high in all the people's hearts:
And that which would appear offence in us,
His countenance, like richest alchymy,

Will change to virtue and to worthiness.

Caf. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him, You have right well conceited; let us go, For it is after midnight; and ere day

We will awake him, and be fure of him.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Brutus's garden.

[Exeunt.

Enter Brutus.

Eru.

WHAT, Lucius! ho!———

I cannot by the progrefs of the stars

Give guess how near to day.

-Lucius, I fay!

I would it were my fault to fleep fo foundly.

When, Lucius, when? awake, I fay! what, Lucius?

Enter Lucius.

Luc. Call'd you, my Lord?

Bru. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:

When it is lighted, come and call me here.

Luc. I will, my

Lord.

Bru. It must be by his death: and, for my part, I know no perfonal cause to spurn at him;

[Exit.

But

But for the general. He would be crown'd

"How that might change his nature, there's the queftion.

"It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; "And that craves wary walking: crown him-that"And then I grant we put a fting in him, "That at his will he may do danger with. "Th' abufe of greatnefs is, when it disjoins "Remorfe + from power: and, to speak truth of Cæfar, I have not known when his affections fway'd More than his reafon. But 'tis a common proof, That lowlinefs is young ambition's ladder, 'Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; "But when he once attains the upmoft round, "He then unto the ladder turns his back, "Looks in the clouds, fcorning the bafe degrees

By which he did afcend: fo Cæfar may:

Then, left he may, prevent. And fince the quarrel i
Will bear no colour, for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would run to these, and these extremities:
And therefore think him as a ferpent's egg,

Which hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mifchievous,,
And kill him in the fhell..

Enter Lucius.

Luc. The taper burneth in your clofet, Sir.
Searching the window for a flint, I found
This paper thus feal'd up; and I am fure.

It did not lie there when I went to bed.

[Gives him a letter.

Bru. Get you to bed again, it is not day. Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?.

Luc. I know not, Sir..

Bru. Look in the kalendar, and bring me word.
Luc. I will, Sir..

Bru. The exhalations whizzing in the air,

Give fo much light, that I may read by them.

[Exit. ·

[Opens the letter, and reads. ·

Brutus, thou fleep'ft; awake, and fee thyfelf:peak, frike, redrefs.

Shall Rome

B 3

tremorse, for mercy.

Brutus,