Men, wives, and children, ftare, cry out, and run, As it were dooms-day.

Bru. Fates! we will know your pleasures:That we fhall die, we know; 'tis but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon,

5 Caf. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life, Cuts off fo many years of fearing death.

Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
So are we Cæfar's friends, that have abridg'd
His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, floop,
And let us bathe our hands in Cæfar's blood
Up to the elbows, and befmear our fwords:
Then walk we forth, even to the market-place;
And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads,
Let's all cry Peace! Freedom! and Liberty!
Caf. Stoop then, and wash.How many ages
hence,

Shall this our lofty fcene be acted over,
In ftates unborn, and accents yet unknown?
Bru. How many times fhall Cæfar bleed in fport,
That now on Pompey's bafis lies along,
No worthier than the düft?

Caf. So oft as that shall be,

So often fhall the knot of us be call'd

6

5 Caf.] Both the folios give this fpeech to Cafca. EDITOR. Stoop, Romans, foop;] Mr. Pope has arbitrarily taken away the remainder of this fpeech from Brutus, and placed it to Cafca; because he thinks nothing is more inconfiftent with Brutus's mild and philofophical character. I have made bold to reftore the speech to its right owner. Brutus efteem'd the death of Cæfar a facrifice to liberty: and, as fuch, gloried in his heading the enterprize. Befides, our poet is Arictly copying a fact in hiftory. Plutarch, in the Life of Cæfar, fays, " Brutus and his followers, being yet hot with the murder, march'd in a body from the fenate-houfe to the Capitol, with their drawn fwords, with an air of confidence and affurance." And in the Life of Brutus, -"Brutus and his party betook themselves to the Capitol, and in their way, fhewing their hands all bloody, and their naked fwards, proclaim'd liberty to the people." THEOBALD. Dr. Warburton follows Pope. JOHNSON.

The men that gave their country liberty.
Dec. What, fhall we forth?

Caf. Ay, every man away:

Brutus fhall lead; and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest and beft hearts of Rome.

Enter a Servant.

Bru. Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony's.
Serv. Thus, Brutus, did my mafter bid me kneel;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down;
And, being proftrate, thus he bade me fay.
Brutus is noble, wife, valiant, and honeft;
Cæfar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving:
Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him;

Say, I fear'd Cæfar, honour'd him, and lov'd him,
If Brutus will vouchfafe, that Antony
May fafely come to him, and be refolv'd
How Cæfar hath deferv'd to lie in death,
Mark Antony fhall not love Cæfar dead
So well as Brutus living; but will follow
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus,
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state,
With all true faith. So fays my mafter Antony.
Bru. Thy mafter is a wife and valiant Roman';
I never thought him worse.

Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
He shall be fatisfied; and, by my honour,
Depart untouch’d. ·

Serv. I'll fetch him presently.

[Exit Servant.

Bru. I know, that we shall have him well to friend. Caf. I wish, we may: but yet have I a mind, That fears him much; and my mifgiving ftill Falls fhrewdly to the purpose.

Enter Antony.

Bru. But here comes Antony.-Welcome, Mark

Antony.

Ant.

Ant. O mighty Cæfar! Doft thou lie fo low?
Are all thy conquefts, glories, triumphs, fpoils,
Shrunk to this little measure?-Fare thee well.-
I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,
Who else must be let blood, 7 who elfe is rank:
If I myself, there is no hour fo fit

As Cæfar's death's hour; nor no inftrument
Of half that worth, as thofe your fwords, made rich
With the moft noble blood of all this world.
I do befeech ye, if you bear me hard,

Now, whilft your purpled hands do reek and smoke,
Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
I fhall not find myself fo apt to die:

No place will please me fo, no mean of death,
As, here by Cæfar, and by you cut off,
The choice and master spirits of this age.

Bru. O Antony! beg not your death of us.
Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,
As by our hands, and this our present act,
You fee we do; yet fee you but our hands,
And this the bleeding business they have done :
Our hearts you see not, they are pitiful;
And pity to the general wrong of Rome
(As fire drives out fire, fo pity, pity)

Hath done this deed on Cæfar. For your part,
To you our fwords have leaden points, Mark
Antony:

Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts,

Of

7 who else is rank:] Who elfe may be fuppofed to have overtopped his equals, and grown too high for the public fafety. JOHNSON.

8 Our arms exempt from malice,] This is the reading only of the modern editions, yet perhaps the true reading. The old copy has :

Our arms in ftrength of malice. JOHNSON.

The old reading I believe to have been what the author defign'd; and Dr. Johnfon feems to have given a fanction to the alteration of his predeceffors, without confidering the context. To you, (fays Brutus) our fwords have leaden points: our arms,

Öf brothers' temper, do receive you in

With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Caf. Your voice fhall be as ftrong as any man's,
In the difpofing of new dignities.

Bru. Only be patient, 'till we have appeas'd
The multitude, befide themselves with fear,
And then we will deliver you the cause,
Why I, that did love Cæfar when I ftruck him,
Have thus proceeded.

Ant. I doubt not of your wifdom.

Let each man render me his bloody hand:
First, Marcus Brutus, will I fhake with you ;-
Next, Caius Caffius, do I take your hand ;-
Now, Decius Brutus, yours;--now yours, Me-
tellus ;-

Yours, Cinna;-and, my valiant Casca, yours ;-
Though laft, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius.
Gentlemen all,-alas! what fhall I say?

My credit now ftands on fuch flippery ground,
That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,
Either a coward, or a flatterer.

That I did love thee, Cæfar, O, 'tis true:

If then thy fpirit look upon us now,

Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy death,
To fee thy Antony making his peace,

frong in the deed of malice they have just perform'd, and our hearts united like thofe of brothers in the action, are yet open to receive you with all poffible affection. The fuppofition that Brutus meant, their hearts were of brothers' temper in respect of Antony, feems to have misled those who have commented on this passage before. I have replaced the old reading. Mr. Pope firft fubftituted the words exempt from, in its place. If alteration were neceffary, it would be easier to read:

Our arms no ftrength of malice,

STEEVENS.

One of the phrafes in this paffage, which Mr. Steevens has fo happily explained, occurs again in Antony and Cleopatra: To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts, "With an unflipping knot."

Again, ibid::.

"The heart of brothers governs in our love!" MALONE. VOL, VIH. Shaking

F

Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
Most noble! in the prefence of thy corfe?
Had I as many eyes as thou haft wounds,
Weeping as faft as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better, than to clofe
In terms of friendship with thine enemies.

Pardon me, Julius!Here waft thou bay'd, bravé hart;

Here didft thou fall; and here thy hunters ftand,
Sign'd in thy fpoil, and crimfon'd in thy lethe.
O world! thou waft the foreft to this hart;
And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee.-
How like a deer, ftrucken by many princes,
Doft thou here lie?

Caf. Mark Antony,

Ant. Pardon me, Caius Caffius: The enemies of Cæfar fhall fay this; Then, in a friend, it is cold modefty.

Caf. I blame you not for praising Cæfar fo; But what compact mean you to have with us? Will you be prick'd in number of our friends; Or fhall we on, and not depend on you?

Ant. Therefore I took your hands; but was, indeed,

Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Cæfar.

"crimfor'd in thy lethe.] Mr. Theobald fays, The dictionaries acknowledge no fuch word as lethe; yet he is not without fuppofition, that Shakspeare coin'd the word; and yet, for all that, the I might be a d imperfectly wrote, therefore he will have death inftead of it. After all this pother, lethe was a common French word, fignifying death or deftruction, from the Latin lethum. WARBURTON.

Lethe is ufed by many of the old tranflators of novels, for death; and in Heywood's Iron Age, Part II. 1632:

"The proudeft nation that great Afia nurs'd,

"Is now extinct in lethe."

Again, in Cupid's Whirligig, 1616:

"For vengeance' wings bring on thy lethal day."

Dr. Farmer obferves, that we meet with lethal for deadly in the information for Mungo Campbell. STEEVENS.

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