Cask. Do fo: Farewel both.
Bru. What a blunt Fellow is this grown to be?
He was quick Mettel, 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 Rudenefs is a Sawce to his good Wit,
Which gives Men ftomach to digeft his Words
With better Appetites.
Bru. And fo it is: For this time I will leave you.
To morrow, if you please 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.
Well Brutus, thou art Noble: Yet I fee
Thy honourable Mettel may be wrought
From that it is difpos'd, therefore 'tis meet
That noble Minds keep ever with their likes:
For who fo firm, that cannot be feduc'd?
Cafar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus.
If I were Brutus now, and he were Caffius,
He should 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 after this, let Cafar feat him fure,
For we will shake him, or worse days endure.
Thunder and Lightning. Enter Caska with his Sword drawn,
Cic. Good Even, Caska; brought you Cafar home?" Why are you breathlefs, and why ftare you fo?
Cask. Are not you mov'd, when all the fway of Earth Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero !
I have feen Tempefts, when the fcolding Winds
Have riv'd the knotty Oaks, 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 Strife in Heav'n,
Or elfe the World, too fawcy with the Gods,
Incenfes them to fend Destruction.
Cic. Why, faw you any thing more wonderful?
Cask. A common Slave, 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 Sword,
Against the Capitol I met a Lion,
Who glaz'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,
Even at Noon-day, upon the Market place,
Houting and fhrieking. When thefe Prodigies
Do fo conjointly meet, let not Men say,
These are their Reafons, they are Natural:
For I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the Climate, that they point upon.
Cic. Indeed, it is a ftrange 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?
Cask. He doth: For he did bid Antonio
Send word to you, he would be there to morrow.
Cic. Good Night then, Caska; this disturbed Sky
Is not to walk in.
Caf. Caska, by your Voice."
Cask. Your Ear is good. Caffius, what Night is this?
Caf. A very pleafing Night to honeft Men.
Cask Who ever knew the Heav'ns menace fo?
Caf. Those that have known the Earth fo full of Faults. For my part I have walk'd about the Streets,
Submitting me unto the perillous Night;
And thus unbraced, Caska, 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 Heav'n, I did present my felf,
Even in the aim and very flash of it.
Cask. 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, Caska; and thofe fparks of Life
That fhould be in a Roman, you do want,
Or else you use not; You look pale, and gaze,
And put on fear, and caft your felf in wonder,
To see the strange impatience of the Heav'ns:
But if you would confider the true Cause,
Why all these Fires, why all these gliding Ghosts,
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 shall find,
That Heav'n hath infus'd them with thefe Spirits,
To make them inftruments of fear and warning,
Unto fome monftrous State.
Now could I, Caska, 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 thy felf, or me,
In perfonal Action; yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as thefe ftrange Eruptions are.
Cask, 'Tis Cafar 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 Spirits,
Our Yoke and Sufferance fhew us womanish.
Cask. Indeed, they fay, the Senators, to morrow,
Mean to establish Cafar as a King:
And he shall wear his Crown by Sea, and Land,
In every Place, fave here in Italy.
Cask. I know where I will wear this Dagger then;
Caffius from Bondage will deliver Caffius.
Therein, ye Gods, you make the weak most strong;
There, ye Gods, you Tyrants do defeat:
Nór ftony Tower, nor Walls of beaten Brafs,
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 it felf.
If I know this, know all the World befides,
That part of Tyranny, that I do bear,
I can fhake off at pleasure.
So every Bondman in his own Hand bears
The power to cancel his Captivity.
Caf. And why fhould Cafar 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.
Thofe that with hafte will make a mighty Fire,
Begin it with weak Straws. What trash is Rome ?
What Rubbish, and what Offal? when it ferves
For the base Matter, to illuminate
So vile a thing as Cafar. But, oh Grief!
Where haft thou led me? I, perhaps, fpeak this
Before a willing Bondman: Then I know
My answer must be made. But I am arm'd,
And Dangers are to me indifferent.
Cask. You fpeak to Caska, and to fuch a Man,
That is no flearing Tell-tale. Hold, my Hand:
Be factious for redress 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, Caska, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the nobleft-minded Romans,
To under-go, with me, an Enterprize,
Of honourable dangerous. 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 Element
Is Feav'rous, like the work we have in hand,
Moft bloody, fiery, and moft terrible.
Cask. Stand close a while, for here comes one in haste. Caf. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his Gate,
He is a Friend. Cinna, where hafte you fo?
Cin. To find out you: Who's that, MetellusC mber ?
Caf. No, it is Caska, one incorporate
To our Attempts. Am I not ftaid for, Cinna?
Cin. I am glad on't. What a fearful Night is this?
There's two or three of us have feen, ftrange Sights.
Caf. Am I not ftaid for? tell me.
O Caffius! If you could but win the noble Brutus
To our Party-
Caf. Be you content. Good Cinna take this Paper,,
And look you lay it in the Prætors Chair,
Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
In at his Window; fet this up with Wax
Upon old Brutus Statue: All this done,
Repair to Pompey's Porch, where you shall find us.
Is Decius Brutus, and Trebonius there?
Cin. All, but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone
To feek you at your Houfe. Well, I will hie,
And fo bestow thefe Papers as you bad me.
Caf. That done, repair to Pompey's Theater.
Come Caska, you and I will, yet, e'er Day,
See Brutus at his Houfe; three parts of him
Is ours already, and the Man entire,
Upon the next Encounter, yields him ours.
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