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The live-long day with patient expectatiori
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome;
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores ?
And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you now cull out an holiday ?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ?
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the Gods, to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen ; and for that
Allemble all the poor men of your sort,
Draw them to Tyber's bank, and weep your tears
Into the channel, 'till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
See, whe're their bafest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish congue-ty'd in their guiltiness.
you down that way tow'rds the Capitol, This way will I. Difrobe the images, If
you do find them : deck'd with ceremonies,
Mar. May we do fo?
You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.
Flav. It is no matter. Let no images
Be hung with Cafar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets?
3 - deck'd with ceremonies,] Ceo by Cæfar's trophies; i. e. fuck remonies, for religious ornaments. as he had dedicated to the Gods. This afterwards he explains them
So do you too, where your perceive them thick.
These growing feathers, pluckt from Cæsar's wing,
Will make him Ay an ordinary pitch ;
Who else would foar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
Enier Cæsar, Antony. For the Course, Calphurnia,
Porcia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Casca, a
Casca, Peace, ho! Cesar speaks.
Calp. Here, my Lord.
Cas. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
When he doth run his Course - Antonius-
Ant. Cesar, My Lord.
Cæs. Forget not in your speed, Artonius,
To touch Calphurria; for our Elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Siake off their steril curse.
Ant. I shall remember.
When Cæfar says, do this; it is perform’d.
Caf. Set on, and leave no ceremony out.
Soctb. Ca ar,-
Cæf. Ha! who calls?
Casca. Bid every noise be fill. Peace! Yet again.
Cæf. Who is it in the Press, that calls on me?
I hear a tongue, Thriller than all the musick,
Cry, Cæfar. Speak; Cæfar is turn'd to hear.
Soob. Beware the Ides of March.
Caf. What man is that?
Bru. A footh-fayer bids you beware the Ides of
Cef. Set him before me ; let me see his face.
Casca. Fellow, come from the throng. Look upon
Cef. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once
again. Sooth. Beware the Ides of March. Cæf. He is a dreamer ; let us leave him. Pass.
[* Sennet. Exeunt Cæsar and Train.
Manent Brutus and Casius,
Caf. Will you go see the order of the Course?
Brú. Not I.
Caf. I pray you, do
Bru. I am not gamesome ; I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Caius, your desires ;
Caf. Brutus, I do observe you now of late s
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And shew of love, as I was wont to have.
You bear too stubborn and too s strange a hand
friend that loves you.
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Meerly upon myself. Vexed I am,
Of late, with paflions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,
4 I have here inserted the word of martial musick, Sennet, from the original edition, Strange a hand] Strange that I may have an opportunity is alien, unfamiliar, such as might of retracting a hafty conjecture become a stranger. in one of the marginal directions 6-passions of some difference,) in Henry VIII. Sennet appears With a fuctuation of discordant to be a particular tune or mode opinions and desires.
Which give some foil, perhaps, to my behaviours;
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Cafius, be you one,
Nor conftrue any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shews of love to other men.
Caf. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Cafius; for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflexion from some other things.
Caf, 'Tis just;
And it is very much lamented, Brulus,
That you have no such mirrors, as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
Except immortal Cafar, speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd, that noble Brutus had his eyes,
Bru. Into what dangers would you
That you would have me seek into myself,
For that which is not in me?.
Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar’d to hear ;
And since you know, you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflexion ; I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself, which yet you know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus :
Were I a common laugher, or did use
7 To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protestor; if you know,
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
7 To sale with ordinary oa'hs tion by the ftale or allurement of
my love, &c.] To invite customary oaths. every new proteftor to my affec
And after scandal them; or if you know,
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout; then hold me dangerous.
(Flourish and fout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the
Chuse Cæfar for their King.
Caf. Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think, you would not have it so.
Bru. I would not, Caffius; yet I love him well,
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it, that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set Honour in one eye, and Death i'th other,
& And I will look on both indifferently,
For, let the Gods so speed me, as I love
The name of Honour, more than I féar Deatha
Caf. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, Honour is the subject of my story.
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life ; but for my single felf,
8 And I will look on both indif- oppos’d. But the use of the word
ferently;] This is a contra, does not demand it; nor does diaion to the lines immediately. Shakespeare always apply it so. In fucceeding. If he lov'd honour the present paffage it signifits wea more than he fear'd-death, how glectingly; without fear, or cond could they be both indifferent to cern: And fo Casca afterwards him? Honour thus is but in equal again in this act, employs it. balance to death, which is not And dangers are to me indif, speaking at all like Brutus : for, in a soldier of any ordinary pre. I weigh them not; nor am deterr'd tensions, honour should always on the score of danger. preponderati. We mult certainly
This long note is very trißing. And I will look on deach indif- When Brutas first names honour ferently.
and death, he calmly declares What occasion d the corruption, them indifferent ; but as the I presume, was, the transcribers image kindles in his mind, he imagining, the adverb indifferent. fets honour above life. Is noc ly must be applied to two things this natural ?