you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling fcarfs off Cæfar'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?
Cafea. No, I am promis'd forth.

Caf. Will you dine with me to-morrow?

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

Caf. Good, I will expect you.

Cafca. Do fo: farewel Both.

[Exit.

Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be?

He was quick mettle, when he went to school.
Caf. So is he now, in execution

Of any bold or noble enterprize,
However he puts on this tardy form:

This rudeness is a fauce to his good wit,
Which gives men ftomach to digeft his words
With better appetite.

Bru. And fo it is: for this time I will leave' you.
To-morrow, if you pleafe 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 seduc'd ?
Cefar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus.
If I were Brutus now, and he were Caffius,
He fhould 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

And after this, let Cafar feat him fure;

For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit.

SCENE VI.

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

Cic.

G

OOD even. Cafca; brought you Cafar home? Why are you breathlefs, and why flare you fo?

Cafca. Are not you mov'd. when all the fway of Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero !

I have feen tempefts, when the fcolding winds
Have riv'd the knotty oak; 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 elfe the world, too faucy with the Gods,
Incenses them to fend deftruction.

earth

Cic. Why, faw you any thing more wonderful?
Cafca. A common flave, you know him well by fight,
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn,
Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand,
Not fenfible of fire, remain'd unfcorch'd.
Befides, (I ha' not fince put up my fword)
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 ghaftly women,
Transformed with their fear; who fwore, they faw
Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets.
And yesterday, the bird of night did fit,
Ev'n at noon-day, upon the market-place
Hooting and fricking. When these prodigies
Do fo conjointly meet, let not men say,
"These are their reafons, they are natural:"

For

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 purpofe of the things themselves.
Comes Cafar 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, Cafea; this difturbed fky
Is not to walk in.

HO's there?

Cafca. A Roman.

Caf Cafca, by your voice.

[Exit Cicero.

VII.

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

Cafca. Who ever knew the heaven's menace so? Caf. Thofe, that have known the earth so full of faults.

For my part, I have walk'd about the ftreets,
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 crofs blue lightning feem'd to open
The breaft of heaven, I did prefent myself
Ev'n in the aim and very flash of it.

Cafea. But wherefore did you fo much tempt the heav'ns?

It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty Gods, by tokens, fend
Such dreadful heralds to aftonish us.

Caf. You are dull, Cafca; and those sparks of life,
That fhould be in a Roman, you do want,
Or else you use not; you look pale, and gaze,

And

And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder,
To fee the ftrange impatience of the heav'ns:
But if you would confider the true cause,

Why all thefe fires, why all thefe 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 thefe fpirits,
To make them inftruments of fear and warning
Unto fome monftrous flate.

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

Cafca. '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 Senators 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.

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 airless 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

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,
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 trafh is Rome?
What rubbish, and what offal? when it ferves
For the bafe 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.

Cafca. You fpeak to Cafca, and to fuch a man,
That is no flearing tell-tale. Hold my hand:
Be factious for redrefs 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, Cafca, 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 ftay 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 most terrible.

Enter Cinna.

Cafca. Stand close a while, for here comes one in

hafte.

Caf