Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjur'd up What's to do? will make sick men whole. Lig. But are not some whole, that we must make sick? Bru. That must we also. What it is, my Caius, I shall unfold to thee, as we are going To whom it must be done. Set on your foot; Lig. Thunder and Lightning. Enter CESAR, in his Night gown. Cas. Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace to night: Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out, Serv. My lord? Enter a Servant. Cas. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, And bring me their opinions of success. Serv. I will, my lord. 6 Thou, like an exorcist,] Here, and in all other places where the word occurs in Shakspeare, to exorcise means to raise spirits, not to lay them; and perhaps he is singular in his acceptation of it. Enter CALPHURNIA. Cal. What mean you, Cæsar? Think you to walk forth? You shall not stir out of your house to-day. Cæs. Cæsar shall forth: The things that threaten'd me, Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see Cal. Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies,7 And graves have yawned and yielded up their dead: The noise of battle hurtled in the air," Horses did neight, and dying men did groan; And ghosts did shriek, and squeal about the streets. And I do fear them. Cæs. What can be avoided, Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods? Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. Cas. Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, 7 Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies,] i. e. I never paid a ceremonious or superstitious regard to prodigies or omens. 8 The noise of battle hurtled in the air,] To hurtle is to clash, or move with violence and noise. +"do neigh,"-- MALONE. It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Will come, when it will come. Re-enter a Servant. What say the augurers? Serv. They would not have you to stir forth to-day. Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, They could not find a heart within the beast. Cas. The gods do this in shame of cowardice: 9 If he should stay at home to-day for fear. We were two lions litter'd in one day, And I the elder and more terrible; Cal. Alas, my lord, Your wisdom is consum'd in confidence. Do not go forth to-day: Call it my fear, That keeps you in the house, and not your own. Cæs. Mark Antony shall say, I am not well; Enter DECIUS. Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. Dec. Cæsar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Cæsar : I come to fetch you to the senate-house. Cæs. And you are come in very happy time, To bear my greeting to the senators, And tell them, that I will not come to-day: 8 in shame of cowardice:] The ancients did not place courage but wisdom in the heart. JOHNSON. Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser; Cæs. Dec. Most mighty Cæsar, let me know some cause, Lest I be laugh'd at, when I tell them so. Cæs. The cause is in my will, I will not come; That is enough to satisfy the senate. But, for your private satisfaction, Because I love you, I will let you know; It was a vision fair and fortunate: Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, +"statue,"-MALONE. "warnings and portents,"-MALONE. 1 Før tinctures, stains, relicks, and cognizance.] This speech, which is intentionally pompous, is somewhat confused. There are two allusions; one to coats armorial, to which princes make additions, or give new tinctures, and new marks of cognizance; the other to martyrs, whose relicks are preserved with veneration. But Messrs. Malone and Steevens think that tinctures has no relation to heraldry, but means merely handkerchiefs, or other linen, tinged with blood. Cæs. And this way have you well expounded it. When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams. Pardon me, Cæsar; for my dear, dear love Cæs. How foolish do your fears seem now, Calphurnia? I am ashamed I did yield to them.— Give me my robe, for I will go: Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, Casca, TREBONIUS, and CINNA. And look where Publius is come to fetch me. Pub. Good morrow, Cæsar. Cæs. Welcome, Publius. What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too?- Cæsar was ne'er so much your enemy, As that same ague which hath made you lean.. Bru. Cæsar, 'tis strucken eight. Cæs. I thank you for your pains and courtesy. At the execution of several of our ancient nobility, martyrs, &c. we are told that handkerchiefs were tinctured with their blood, and preserved as affectionate or salutary memorials of the deceased. 2 And reason, &c.] And reason, or propriety of conduct and language, is subordinate to my love. |