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Desiring thee, that Publius Cimber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.-
Caf. What, Brutus !
Cas. Pardon. Cæfar ; Cæsar, pardon ;
As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,
To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
Caf. I could be well mov’d, if I were as you ;
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me:
But I am constant as the northern star,
Of whose true, fixt, and refting quality,
There is no fellow in the firmament;
The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks,-
They are all fire, and every one doth shine;
But ihere's but one in all doth hold his place.
So, in the world, 'tis furnish'd well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive ;
Yet, in the number, I do know but one
That unassailable holds on his rank,
Unshak'd of motion ; and that I am he,
Let me a little shew it, even in this ;
That I was constant, Cimber should be banish'd ;
And constant do remain to keep him so.
Cim. O Cæfar-
Caf. Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus ?
Déc. Great Cæfar
Cæf. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel ?
Caf. Speak hands for me. (They stab Cæsar.
Caf. Et tu, Brute ?-- then fall Cafar ! [Dies.
Cin. Liberty! freedom! Tyranny is dead-
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets —
Caf. Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out, Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement.
Bru. People, and Senators! be not affrighted; Fly not, fand still. Ambition's debt is paid.
Casca. Go to the Pulpit, Brutus.
Dec. And Caffius too.
Bru. Where's Publius ?
Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny:
Met. Stand fast together, lest some friends of Cæsar's Should chance
Bru. Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; There is no harm intended io your person, Nor to no Roman else; fo tell them, Publius.
Caf. And leave us, Publius, lest that the people, Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
Bru. Do so; and let no man abide this deed, But we the Doers.
Caf. W Tree Fled to his house amaz'd.
S CE N E II.
- Enter Trebonius
. Men, wives, and children, ftare, cry out, and run, As it were Dooms-day.
Bru. Fates ! we will know your pleasures ; That we shall die, we know ; 'tis but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon,
Caf. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life, Cuis off so many years of fearing death.
Bru. Grant thai, and then is death a benefit :
So are we Cæsar's friends, that have abridg'd
His time of fearing death.
Casca. Stoop, Romans, floop;
And let us baihe our hands in Cæsar's blood
Up to the elbows, and belinear our swords ;
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
[Dipping their swords in Cæsar's blood. Shall this our lofty Scene be acted o’cr, In States unborn, and accents yet unknown ?
Bru. How many times thall Cæsar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey's Basis lies along, No worthier than the dust ?
Caf. So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of us be call'd
The men that gave their country liberty.
Dec. What, shall we forth ?
Caf. Ay, every man away.
Brutus shall lead, and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest, and best hearts of Rome.
Enter a Servant.
Bru. Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony's.
Ser. Thus, Brutus, did niy master bid me kneel;
Thus did Mark Antony bid' me fall down ; [kneeling.
And, being proftrate, thus he bade me say,
Brutus is noble, wise, valiant and honeft;
Cæfar was mighty, royal, bold and loving ;
Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him ;
Say, I fear'd Cafar, honour'd him, and lov'd him.
If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
May safely come to him, and be resolv'd
How Cafar hath desery'd to lie in death :
Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar 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 says my master Antony.
Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman ;
I never thought him worfe.
Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour,
Ser. 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 misgiving itill Falls fhrewdly to the purpose.
Enter Antony. Bi UT here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark
Ant. O mighty Cæsar! dost thou lie so low ? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure ? -fare thee well.I know not, Gentlemen, what
intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank; If I myself, there is no hour so fit As Cæsar's death's hour; nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich With the most noble blood of all this world. I do beseech ye, if ye bear me hard, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die : No place will please me so, no mean of death, As here by Cæfar, and by you cut off, The choice and master spirits of this age:
Bru. () 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 see, we do ; yet
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, so pity, pity :) Hath done this deed on Cafar : For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony; Our arms exempt from malice ; and our hearts, Of brothers' temper, do receive you in With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Cnf. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's In the disposing of new dignities.
Bra. Only be patient, 'till we have appeas'd
The multitude, beside themselves with fear;
And then we will deliver you the cause,
Why I, that did love Cæfar when I strook him,
Ant. I doubt not of your wisdom.
Let each man render me his bloody hand ;
First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;
Next, Caius Caffius, do I take your hand ;
Now, Decius Brutus, yours; now yours, Metellus ;
Yours, Cinna ; and, my valiant Casca, yours ;
Thoo laft, not least in love, yours, good Treboniusa
Gentlemen all-alas, what shall I say ?
My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
That one of two bad ways you muft conceit me,-
Either a coward or a flatterer.
That I did love thee, Cæfar, oh, 'tis true;
If then thy spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy death,
To see thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
Most Noble ! in the presence of thy corse ?
Had I as many eyes, as thou haft wounds,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better, than to close
In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me, Julius-here waft thou bay'd, brave hart;
Here didit thou fall, and here thy hunters stand
Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe.
O world! thou wast the forest to this hart,
And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee.
How like a deer, stricken by many Princes,
Dost thou here lie ?
Caf. Mark Antony
Ant. Pardon me, Caius Casius :
The enemies of Cæfar shall say this:
Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
Caf. I blame you not for prailing Cæfar so,