I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of fuch a thing as I myself. I was born free as Cafar, fo were you; And bid him follow; fo, indeed, he did. Did from the flames of Troy upon his fhoulder Is now become a God; and Caffius is A wretched creature, and muft bend his body, He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake; 'tis true, this God did fhake And that fame eye, whofe Bend doth awe the world 9 His coward lips did from their colour fly,] A plain man would have faid, the colour fled from his lips, and not his lips from their colour. But the falfe ex preffion was for the fake of as falfe a piece of wit: a poor quibble, alluding to a coward flying from his colours. WARB. As As a fick gril. Ye Gods, it doth amaze me, I So get the ftart of the majestick world, Bru. Another general shout! I do believe, that these applauses are [Shout. Flourish. For fome new honours that are heap'd on Cafar. Walk under his huge legs, and peep about Men at some times are mafters of their fates: Brutus and Cæfar! what should be in that Cæfar? 1 -get the fart of the majf tick world, &c.] This image is extremely noble: it is taken from the olympic games. The majeftick world is a fine periphrafis for the Roman empire: their citizens set themselves on a foot ing with Kings, and they called their dominion Orbis Romanus, But the particular allufion feems to be to the known story of Ca far's great pattern Alexander, who being asked, Whether he would run the course at the Olympic games, replied, Yes, if the racers were Kngs. WARB. When When there is in it but one only man. Oh! you you and I have heard our fathers fay; There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd Th' eternal devil to keep his ftate in Rome, As easily as a King. Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; What you would work me to, I have some aim, How I have thought of this, and of these times, I fhall recount hereafter; for this present, I would not, fo with love I might intreat you, Be any further mov'd. What you have faid, I will confider; what you have to say, I will with patience hear; and find a time Both meet to hear, and answer fuch high things, 'Till then, my noble friend, 3 chew upon this; Brutus had rather be a villager, Than to repute himfelf a fon of Rome Under fuch hard conditions, as this time Is like to lay upon us. Caf. I am glad that my weak words Have ftruck but thus much fhew of fire from Bruins. Bru. The Games are done, and Cæfar is returning. Caf. As they pafs by, pluck Casca by the sleeve, And he will, after his four fashion, tell you What hath proceeded worthy note to day. Bru. I will do fo. But look you, Caffius, The angry fpot doth glow on Cafar's brow, And all the reft look like a chidden train. Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero -eternal devil-] I should think that our authour wrote rather, infernal devil. 4 3-chew upon this ;] Confider this at leifure; ruminate on this. Looks Looks with fuch ferret, and such fiery eyes, Ant. Cæfar? Caf. [To Ant. apart.] Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek headed men, and fuch as fleep a-nights; Caf. 'Would he were fatter. But I fear him not; Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid, So foon as that spare Caffius. He reads much; Quite through the deeds of men. He loves no plays, [Exeunt Cæfar and bis Train. 4-ferret,-] A ferret has red eyes, Knockham's fpeech to the Pigwoman. Come, there's no malice in fat folks; I never fear thee, and I can'cape thy lean moon-calf there. WARBURTON SCENE SCENE V. Manent Brutus and Caffius: Cafca to them. Cafca. You pull'd me by the cloak. Would you speak with me? Bru. Ay, Cafca, tell us what hath chanc'd to-day, That Cæfar looks fo fad. Cafca. Why, you were with him, were you not? Bru. I fhould not then ask Cafca what had chanc'd. Cafca. Why, there was a crown offer'd him, and being offer'd him, he put it by with the back of his hand thus; and then the people fell a fhouting. Bru. What was the fecond noise for? Cafca. Why, for that too, Caf. They fhouted thrice: what was the laft cry for? Cafea. Why, for that too. Bru. Was the crown offer'd him thrice? Cafca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by, mine honeft neighbours fhouted. Caf. Who offer'd him the crown? Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Cafca. Cafca. I can as well be hang'd, as tell the manner of it. It was meer foolery, I did not mark it. I faw Mark Antony offer him a crown ;-yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets;and, as I told you, he put it by once; but for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offer'd it to him again: then he put it by again; but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offer'd it the third time; he put it the third time by; and ftill as he refus'd it, the rabblement |