Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæfar; mark him.
Caf. Cafea, be fudden, for we fear prevention.
Brutus, what fhall be done, if this be known?
Caffius, or Cæfar, never shall turn back;
For I will flay myself.

Bru. Caffius, be constant ::

Popilius Lena fpeaks not of our purpose ;
For, look, he fmiles, and Cæfar doth not change.
Caf. Trebonius knows his time; for look you, Brutus,
He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? let him go,

And presently prefer his fuit to Cæfar.

Bru. He is addreft; prefs near, and second him.
Cin. Cafea, you are the firft that rears your hand.
Caf. Are we all ready? what is now amifs,
That Cæfar and his Senate must redress?

Met. Moft high, most mighty, and moft puiffant Cæfar
Metellus Cimber throws before thy feat
An humble heart.

[Kneeling.

Cef. I must prevent thee, Cimber;
These couchings and thefe lowly curtefies
Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
And turn pre-ordinance and firft decree
Into the lane of children. Be not fond,
To think that Cæfar bears fuch rebel blood,
That will be thaw'd from the true quality
With that which melteth fools; I mean, fweet words,
Low-crooked curtfies, and base spaniel fawning.
Thy brother by decree is banished;

If thou doft bend, and pray, and fawn for him,
I fpurn thee like a cur out of my way.

(17) Know, Cafar doth not wrong; nor without cause Will he be fatisfied.

Met.

"Cry The

(17) Know, Cæfar doth not wrong ;] Ben Johnson, in the induc tion to his Staple of News, has a fneer upon this paffage :you mercy, you never did wrong but with juft caufe.". words are conftantly printed in a different character, and, that they are levell'd at Shakespeare, is fully clear'd up by another paffage in Ben's Difcoveries, where he thus speaks of our author: Many times “ he fell into those things could not escape laughter ; as when he

66

Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own,
To found more fweetly in great Cafar's ear,
For the repealing of my banish'd Brother?
Bru. I kifs thy hand, but not in flattery, Cafar
Defiring thee, that Publius Cimber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
Caf. What, Brutus !

Caf. Pardon, Cæfar; Cæfar, pardon;
As low as to thy foot doth Caffius 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 conftant as the northern Star,
Of whofe true, fixt, and refting quality,
There is no fellow in the firmament;

The skies are painted with unnumbred fparks,
They are all fire, and every one doth shine;
But there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So, in the world, 'tis furnifh'd well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehenfive;
Yet in the number, I do know but one
That unaffailable holds on his rank,

Unfhak'd of motion: and that I am he,

-Cæfar, ther

faid in the perfon of Cafar, one fpeaking to him, doft me wrong; he reply'd, Cæfar did never wrong, but with just "caufe." can't pretend to guefs, for what reafon Ben has left. this farcafm upon our author; when there is no room for it from. any of the printed copies: nor fhould I have thought it worth while to revive the memory of fuch a remark, had not Mr. Pope purpofely. deviated into a criticifm upon the affair. There is a fort of fatality attends fome people, when they aim at being hypercritical. "He "thinks, Ben Johnson's remark was made upon no better credit, "than fome blunder of an actor in speaking the verse now under "debate and, perhaps, (fays be) this play was never printed in B. "Johnson's time; and fo he had nothing to judge by, but as the actor.

was pleas'd to speak it."- -I don't know how this gentleman's head was employ'd, when he made this profound obfervation: for he could not but know, that B. Jebnfon liv'd to the year 1637, fourteen years before which the players had put out their edition of all Shakes peare's genuine plays in folio. The furly Laureat therefore cannot and excus'd, from any blunder of an actor, for wounding the memory of a poet; when the absurdity, reflected on, is not to be found in his works.

Let

Let me a little fhew it, even in this;

That I was conftant Cimber should be banish'd,
And conftant do remain to keep him fo.

Cim. O Cafar

Caf. Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus ?
Dec. Great Cafar

Caf. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
Cafe. Speak hands for me.

Caf. Et tu, Brute ?

[They ftab Cæfar.

-then fall Cafar!

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 enfranchifement.

Bru. People, and Senators! be not affrighted;
Fly not, ftand ftill. Ambition's debt is paid.
Caf. Go to the Pulpit, Brutus.

Dec. And Caffius too.

Bru. Where's Publius?

[Dies

Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. Met. Stand faft together, left fome friends of Cæfar's Should chance

Bru. Talk not of ftanding. Publius, good cheer; There is no harm intended to your perfon, Nor to no Roman elfe; fo tell them, Publius.

Caf. And leave us, Publius, left that the People, Rufhing on us, fhould do your age fome mischief Bru. Do fo; and let no man abide this deed,, But we the doers.

Caf. Where is Antony?

Tre. Fled to his house amaz'd.

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.
Cuts off fo many years of fearing death.

Bru.. Grant that, and then is death a benefit.

So

So are we Cafar's friends, that have abridg'd
His time of fearing death. (18) Stoop, Romans, ftoop
And let us bathe our hands in Cefar'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.
[Dipping their fwords in Cæfar's blood

Shall this our lofty Scene be acted o'er,

In States unborn, and accents yet unknown?

Bru. How many times fhall Cafar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey's Bafis lies along,

No worthier than the duft?

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, fhall we forth?

Caf. Ay, every man away.

Brutus fhall 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.

(18) Stoop, Romans, foop;] Mr. Pope, in both his editions, has, from these words, arbitrarily taken away the remainder of this speech from Brutus, and placed it to Cafca: becaufe, he thinks, nothing is more inconfiftent with Brutus's mild and philofophical character And as he often finds fpeeches in the later editions, he says, put into wrong mouths; he thinks, this liberty is not unreafonable. 'Tis true, a diligent editor may find many fuch errors committed even in the first printed copies; but it has not often been Mr. Pope's good fortune to hit upon them. I dare warrant, the printers made no blunder in this inftance; and therefore I have made bold to restore 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 strictly copying a fact in history. Plu◄ tarch, in the life of Cæfar, fays, "Brutus and his followers, being yet "bot with the murther, march'd in a body from the Senate-house 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 bands all bloody, and their naked fwords, proclaim'd liberty to -the people."

Ser

[Kneeling

Ser. Thus, Brutus, did my Mafter bid me kneel;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down ;
And, being proftrate, thus he bad me fay:
Brutus is noble, wife, valiant and honeft;
Cafar 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 vouchfafe that Antony
May fafely come to him, and be refolv'd
How Cefar hath deferv'd to lie in death:
Mark Antony fhall not love Cafar 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 Master Antony:
Bru. Thy Mafter is a wife and valiant Roman
I never thought him worse.

1

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 misgiving ftill

Falls fhrewdly to the purpose.

Enter Antony.

Bru. But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony.
Ant. O mighty Cafar! doft thou lie fo low?

Are all thy Conquefts, Glories, Triumphs, Spoils,
(19) Shrunk to this little meafure?

-Fare thee well.

I know not, Gentlemen, what you intend,
Who else must be let blood, who else is rank;

If I my felf, there is no hour fo fit

As Cafar's death's hour; nor no inftrument

Of half that worth as thofe your fwords, made rich

(19) Shrunk to this little meafure ?] Perhaps, our poet might have Juvenal in his view, here;

-Mors fola fatetur,
Quantula fint hominum corpufcula.-