meddle with no man's matters, nor woman's matters; but withall, I am indeed, Sir, a furgeon to old fhoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather have gone upon my handywork.
Flaw. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?
Why doft thou lead these men about the streets?
2 Pleb. Truly, Sir, to wear out their fhoes, to get my felf into more work. But indeed, Sir, we make holiday to fee Cafar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
Mar. Wherefore rejoice!what conqueft brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome,
Το grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
You blocks, you ftones, you worse than fenfeless things! O you hard hearts! you cruel men of Rome! Knew you not Pompey! many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have fat The live-long day with patient expectation, To fee great Pompey pafs the ftreets of Rome: And when you faw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an univerfal fhout, That Tyber trembled underneath his banks To hear the replication of your founds, Made in his concave fhores? 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 to Rome In triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone, Run to your houfes, 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 this fault Affemble all the poor men of your fort,
Draw them to Tyber's bank, and weep your tears Into the channel, 'till the loweft ftream Do kifs the moft exalted fhores of all. Sce whe'r their bafeft mettle be not mov'd; They vanish'd tongue-ty'd in their guilunefs.
Go you down that way tow'rds the Capitol, This way will I; difrobe the images, 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: So do you too, where you perceive them thick. Thefe growing feathers pluckt from Cafar's wing Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
Who else would foar above the view of men, And keep us all in fervile fearfulness.
Enter Cæfar, Antony for the Courfe, Calphurnia, Portia, Decimus, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Cafca, and a Soothsayer. Caf. Calphurnia!
Calp. Peace, ho! Cæfar fpeaks.
Caf. Calpburnia!
Calp. Here, my Lord.
Caf. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
When he doth run his courfe
Ant. Cafar, my Lord..
Caf. Forget not in your fpeed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia; for our elders fay, The barren touched in this holy chafe, Shake off their fteril courfe.
Ant. I fhall remember.
When Cæfar fays, Do this; it is perform'd, Caf. Set on, and leave no ceremony out. Sooth. Cafar!
Caf. Ha! who calls?
Cafe. Bid every noife be ftill; peace yet again. Caf. Who is in the prefs that calls on me? I hear a tongue fhriller than all the mufick, Cry, Cafar! Speak; Cæfar is turn'd to hear. Sooth, Beware the Ides of March,
Caf. What man is that?
Bru. A footh-fayer bids you beware the Ides of March. Caf. Set him before me, let me fee his face,
Caf. Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cæfar. Caf. What fay'ft thou to me now? fpeak once again. Sooth. Beware the Ides of March.
Caf. He is a dreamer, let us leave him; pass.
[Exeunt. Manent Brutus and Caffius. SCENE III.
Caf. Will you go fee the order of the courfe? Bru. Not I.
Bru. I am not gamefome; I do lack fome part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony: Let me not hinder, Caffius, your defires; I'll leave you.
Caf. Brutus, I do obferve you now of late; I have not from your eyes that gentleness And fhew of love, as I was wont to have; You bear too ftubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you.
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look, turn the trouble of my countenance Meerly upon my felf. Vexed I am
Of late, with paffions of fome difference, Conceptions only proper to my felf,
Which give fome foil, perhaps, to my behaviour: But let not therefore my good friends be griev❜d, Among which number, Caffius, be you one, Nor conftrue any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the fhews of love to other men.
Caf. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your paffion,
By means whereof, this breaft of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you fee your face? Bru. No, Caffius; for the eye fees not it self, But by reflexion from fome other things.
And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no fuch mirrors, as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your fhadow. I have heard Where many of the best refpect in Rome, (Except immortal Cæfar) Speaking of Brutus, And groaning underneath this age's yoak, Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Caffius, That you would have me feek into my felf, For that which is not in me?
Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear And fince you know you cannot fee your felf So well as by reflexion; I, your glass,
Will modeftly discover to your felf
That of your felf, which yet you know not of. And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus : Were I a common laugher, or did ufe To ftale with ordinary oaths, my love, To every new protestor; if you know That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, And after fcandal them; or if you know That I profefs my self in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
Bru. What means this fhouting? I do fear, the people
Chufe Cafar for their King.
Caf. Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it fo.
Bru. I would not, Caffius; yet I love him well
But wherefore do you hold me here fo long? What is it that you would impart to me? If it be ought toward the general good, Set honour in one eye, and death i'th' other, And I will look on death indifferently: For let the Gods fo fpeed me, as I love The name of honour, more than I fear death. Caf. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, As well as I do know your outward favour. Well, honour is the fubject of iny ftory: I cannot tell, what you and other men Think of this life; but for my fingle felf, I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of fuch a thing as I my felf. I was born free as Cæfar, fo were you; We both have fed as well, and we can both Endure the winter's cold, as well as he. For once, upon a raw and gufty day, The troubled Tyber chafing with his fhores, Cafar fays to me, Dar'ft thou, Caffius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And fwim to yonder point? upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bad him follow; fo indeed he did. The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it With lufty finews, throwing it afide, And stemming it with hearts of controverfie. But ere we could arrive the point propos'd, Cafar cry'd, Help me, Caffius, or I fink. I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his fhoulder The old Anchifes bear, fo, from the waves of Tyber Did I the tired Cæfar and this man
Is now become a God, and Caffius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body, If Cæfar carelefly but nod on him.
He had a feaver when he was in Spain,
And when the fit was on him, I did mark
How he did shake: 'tis true, this God did shake; His coward lips did from their colour fly,
And that fame eye, whose bend doth awe the world, Did lofe its luftre; I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bad the Romans Mark him, and write his fpeeches in their books, Alas it cry'd, Give me fome drink, Titinius As a fick girl. Ye Gods, it doth amaze me, A man of fuch a feeble temper fhould So get the start of the majeftick world, And bear the palm alone.
Bru. Another general shout!
Swimming was one of the generous exercifes practifed at Rome, and learnt by all the youth of the beft birth and quality as a necef fary qualification towards good foldiership.
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