1 SENATOR.
Hail, good Trebonius.

2 SENATOR.
Health to worthy Casca.
Will you go with us to the Sports to day?

1 SENATOR.
Before this Cæsar's Time, we had no Shews
Magnificent as these.

TREBONIUS.
But we had Triumphs:
And tho' the Conqueror sate high exalted,
We all partook both of his Fame and Merit:
The gaz'd-on Warriour in the gilded Chariot
Enjoy'd his Fill of Fame, but, as Rome's Subject:
And, to his great Renown in glorious Arms,
A higher, much more valu'd Crown, was added;
Immortal Praise for serving well his Country.

CASCA.
Oh how our Hearts were fir'd at Pompey's Triumphs!
The Blood more lively danc'd within our Veins:
The very Image of it strikes my Fancy!
Methinks I see a thousand noble Captives
Drooping with Grief, which yet was lighter made
By his kind Usage. After came the Treasures;
Our Treasures! for it was not then as now,
When one Man's greedy Gripe ingrosses all,
We did not, as Law-Suitors for Contention,

Disburse more Charges than the Prize was worth;
Grow Beggars, only to make others rich.

TREBONIUS.
But then, at last, behold ev'n Captive Kings
In golden Chains with pensive Thought look down,
Remembring they had us'd their Subjects worse.

CASCA.
Yet shew'd a gloomy Comfort through their Sadness,
For being vanquish'd by so brave a People.

TREBONIUS.
Which of us, then, oh which of us went home
From such a Spectacle unmov'd with Joy,
With virtuous Pride, to see our Blood well spent,
Our Treasures manag'd, and our Glory rais'd?

CASCA.
Yet ev'n to Pompey, Chief of all our State,
No Roman but disdain'd a mean Submission;
A Tribute only owing to the Gods.

TREBONIUS.
But now we crouch, and stand in servile awe;
Like Children, fear the Goblin we have made.
This Cæsar, tho' Dictator, is our Creature,
And from Election all his Pride proceeds.

CASCA.
We meet these Murmurs now in ev'ry Mouth;
Ill-boding Sounds to late unsettled Power,
Like new-built Houses, easily blown down.

TREBONIUS.
Yet Cæsar, still intrepidly Serene,
Goes proudly on, despising us, and Danger. SCENE II. Enter a Croud of common Tradesmen.

CASCA.
What's all this Croud, and whither are ye going,
My gazing Fellow-Citizens? To wait
On your own Shame, and stare upon your Bondage?

1 TRADESMAN.
I know not what you mean by Shame and Bondage:
We go to see great Cæsar, and the Sports.

CASCA.
And much good do you, Friend; You little think,
The Man you so admire would be your Master.

TRADESMAN.
My Master! He would scorn so mean a Servant.
I hope you will not jest at mighty Cæsar? (Casca laughs.

CASCA.
I only laugh at you for loving Cæsar.

TRADESMAN.
Oh, is that all? Well Sir, make bold with me;
But have a care of medling with your Betters.

CASCA.
Betters! Thou sawcy Citizen, be silent.

TRADESMAN.
Then I am hush'd. Speak you, Sir.

CASCA.
What, to Fools?
To Men, whose Minds are sunk in low Submission?
Born free, and yet contented to be Slaves?
Form'd like the dull strong Horse, to bear a Rider?
Well, we may wish, and vent our Rage in Curses:
May Cæsar—

TRADESMAN.
Hold; and hear if he speaks Treason.

CASCA.
May Cæsar live, as long as good Men wish him!

TRADESMAN.
Why, what does this Man mean? he prays for Cæsar.
Long may he live Rome's great, and wise Dictator!

TREBONIUS.
Oh, my good Friends, how blind are those Desires!
Did you but know how much you curse your selves,
No People, sure, would be such Self-destroyers,
Tho' but in Wish. Did ever Men before

Pray for continuance of a Tyrant Ague
That shakes their very Souls? See, how Rome trembles,
And looks all pale, with Loss of guiltless Blood!
Who has not lost a Kinsman, or a Friend,
Whose honest Life the War has sacrific'd
To this Man's wild Ambition?
Nay, are not you dead too? since in his Power
To kill you when he pleases? with this diff'rence;
That Death, once come, frees ye from all its Force,
Which every hour ye now expect with Terror.
Before this fatal Time each good Man here
Was Master of the World, and shar'd the Power;
Kings waited on your Votes, and watch'd your Wills:
But now (I weep to say how sad a Change!)
The Greatness, nay the Goodness of this Cæsar,
Is founded on our Baseness: For, alas!
What must we be, to be forgiv'n by him?

And do you think, because he gives you Pleasures,
Treats you with Shows, and popular Appearance,
That all this seeming Softness is not Shadow?
A very Trick to lull your Thoughts asleep,
And then subject them? make them mild, and tame,
Fit for the servile use of being Subjects?
Those lofty Thoughts, which like true mettled Hawks
Were us'd to fly so strong, and soar so high,
Which Nature has design'd to prey on Tyrants,
And not to serve them; now are whistled off
With every Pageant Pomp, and gawdy Show.
For shame, repent of such a childish Folly;
And rather tear, like Cato, your own Bowels,
Than live to see your Country torn by Tyrants.

CASCA.
And Pompey too, methinks, should be remember'd,
Who died for you so lately; on whose Ruin
This Cæsar stands, and scorns us all beneath him.

TREBONIUS.
See if they are not mov'd; the Roman Soul
Now swells within them. Go, my worthy Friends;
And, if you needs will see your Tyrant's Triumph,
Gaze on him then with angry envious Eyes:
Be every one a Basilisk to him;
Kill him with staring.

1 Citizen.
Farewel worthy Lords!
You love your Country, and we love you for it.

TREBONIUS.
Shall we not be accus'd for this?

CASCA.
No matter;
We break no Laws either of Gods or Men:
So, if we fall, it is with Reputation;
A Fate which Cowards shun, and brave Men seek.
If Cæsar punish Men for speaking Truth,
My honest Tongue shall dare his utmost Doom.

But here he comes, with all that Pomp and Pride
In which young Pow'r so childishly delights. SCENE III. Enter Cæsar attended by Antony, Brutus, Cassius, and many other Senators: Sits down in a magnificent Seat to behold several Divertisements after the Roman manner: When the Sports are ended, Antony presents him a Crown.

ANTONIUS.
Hail, mighty Man! thou Godlike Cæsar, hail!
Stoop to our Wishes, and vouchsafe to wear
This Crown, presented thee by all Mankind:
Shine on us, like the Sun, in your full Lustre;
While Rome reviv'd lies basking in your Beams,
And flourishes beneath that kindly Heat.
Adorn us with your Pow'r, and make us proud
Of being Subjects to so great a King.

CÆSAR.
I am not call'd your King, but your Dictator: (Cæsar descends from his Seat to the middle of the Stage.
A Name, I hope, that bears as great a Sound;
If not, 'tis no vain Titles that can help it:
Therefore I both refuse, and slight a Crown, (He puts back the Crown with his Hand, at which the People shout for Joy.
Which can add nothing to my Power, or Rome's.
I'm glad, my Friends, you are so easily pleas'd
With my refusing what I think below me;
Were it above me, I should quickly reach it.
Your Kings, it seems, exerted Power so ill,
That you expell'd the hated Name for ever.
But 'tis the Tyranny, not Name, ye fear;
And that my Soul abhors, as much as you.
Witness, ye Gods, I have no other Aim
Than to advance your Good, and my own Honour

ANTONIUS.
Take then this Crown, which seems so much for both; (Offering the Crown once more.
For Pow'r well plac'd, can never be too great.

CÆSAR.
Again! this needs not; 'tis unseemly Joy; (Cæsar refuses it, and they shout a second time.
It looks as if you doubted me before,
And are surpriz'd to find my Moderation.

ANTONIUS.
'Tis I, Sir, am surpriz'd; but 'tis with Grief, (He offers the Crown the third time.
To see you shun a Pow'r, you ought to seek;
At least, reject it not with such Irreverence;
Crowns are the fairest Presents of the Gods.

CÆSAR.
Again! (He refuses it again, and they shout the third time.
Peace, you unmannerly, unthinking Crowd!
Are you so pleas'd? and have I no way left

But this, to be as popular as Pompey?
How have I us'd my Pow'r, that you should fear it?
Then, to be more secure, here take my Life;
I freely offer it to every Roman.
Let out that Blood, you think boils with Ambition,
I'd rather lose it, than out-live my Fame;
Nor would accept of Pow'r, unless to please.
I feel their Pulses, and I find them beat (To Antony aside.
Fev'rish, and high, unfit for my Designs:
Their Reason lost, they rave for Liberty,
Like Lunaticks, confin'd for their own good,
Strive for a fatal Freedom to be ruin'd.

ANTONIUS.
Therefore in pity, Sir, restrain them more.

CÆSAR.
I'll guard them from themselves, their own worst Foes;
And will have Pow'r to do whate'er I please;

Yet bear my Thunder in a gentle Hand.
Like Jove, I'll sit above; but 'tis to show
My Love and Care of all the World below. Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER.
Some other Sports are in the Field of Mars,
And only wait your Presence.

CÆSAR.
Let us go.
The Ev'ning is far spent, it will be dark;
And I, thou know'st, have not been well to day. (To Brutus. Exeunt Cæsar, and Antony. SCENE IV.

CASSIUS.
Will you not wait on Cæsar to the Course?

BRUTUS.
Not I.

CASSIUS.
How so?

BRUTUS.
I am not fit for Sports;
I want the airy Humour of Marc Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your Desires.

CASSIUS.
Brutus, I have observ'd you much of late;
I have not from your Eyes that Gentleness
And Show of Love, which I was us'd to find:
Pardon my Cares, that only come from Kindness;
Your Carriage is a little too reserv'd,
And strange, to Friends who would be more familiar.

BRUTUS.
Cassius, mistake me not, if I have veil'd
My Look, I turn the trouble of my Countenance
Meerly upon my self: I am of late
Troubled with Passions of a diff'rent nature,
Conceptions only proper to my self,

Which gives perhaps some Soil to my Behaviour.
But let not therefore my good Friends complain,
(Amongst which number Cassius is the chief)
Nor misinterpret farther my Neglect;
But think poor Brutus, with himself at War,
Forgets the Shows of Love to other Men.

CASSIUS.
I am most glad to find I was mistaken.
That Error made this Breast of mine conceal
Thoughts of great Value, worthy of your Ear:
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your Face?

BRUTUS.
No, Cassius; for, the Eye sees not it self,
But by Reflexion from some other thing.

CASSIUS.
'Tis just: Then know, 'tis much lamented Brutus,
That you have no such Mirror as might show
(Spite of your Modesty your own hid Worth;)
That you for once might see the noble Shadow.

I have heard some, of the best Rank in Rome
(Except immortal Cæsar) talk of Brutus;
And groaning underneath this Age's Yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his Eyes.

BRUTUS.
Into what Dangers wou'd you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me look into my self
For that which is not in me?

CASSIUS.
Brutus, hear:
And since, you know, you cannot see your self
So well as by Reflexion; I, your Glass,
Will without all Disguise discover now
That of your self, which yet you know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus.
Were I some slight Buffoon, or us'd to flatter,
To cloy each Man I meet with proffer'd Love,
And then betray him; did I use to fawn
And hug Men hard, then crush them with my Scandal;

Or if you ever knew me riotous
To loss of Reason; then you might suspect me.
What Shouts are these? (A great Shout.

BRUTUS.
I hope, like those just now,
For Joy, that Cæsar has refus'd the Crown.

CASSIUS.
If you hope that, you would not have him King.

BRUTUS.
I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.

CASSIUS.
And do you think he would forgive that Wish,
Or would accept your Love, with that Allay?

BRUTUS.
If just, he will; and, if unjust, I care not.
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
I see you labour with some weighty thing.
If it be towards the gen'ral Good, speak quickly;
I am in haste to meet your noble Thoughts.

Set Virtue in my Eye, and let grim Death
Shake his unheeded Dart, I'll still be fix'd.
For, may the Gods so help me, as, for Honour,
I look indiff'rently on Life or Death.

CASSIUS.
I know your Virtue, Brutus, and dare trust it.
Well, Honour is the Subject of my Story.
I cannot tell what you and other Men
Think of this Life; but for my single self,
I'll chuse much rather not to live at all,
Than live to be in awe of any thing.
I was born free as Cæsar; so are you;
We both are bred as well; and we can both
Endure the Winter's Cold as well as he.
For, once upon a raw and gusty Day,
The troubled Tiber turn'd into a Foam,
Cæsar says to me, Cassius, darst thou now
Leap in with me into this angry Flood,
And swim to yonder Point? Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plung'd me in,

And bade him follow; so indeed he did:
The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it,
With lusty Sinews throwing it aside,
But yet, e'er we could reach the Point propos'd,
Cæsar cry'd, help me, Cassius, or I sink!
Just as Æneas, our great Ancestor,
Did from the Flames of Troy bear on his Shoulders
The old Anchises, I, from Tiber's Waves
Bore the tir'd Cæsar; Yet this feeble Man
Is now become a God; and Cassius is
A wretched Creature, and must bend his Body,
If Cæsar give him but a careless Nod.
A strange Disease possesses him sometimes,
This Day I saw him fall into his Fit;
(That which delay'd the Sports till Afternoon.)
This God has fall'n to ground, and foam'd at mouth,
His Limbs have trembled, and his Eyes have roll'd,
Yet now his Look must awe the trembling World.
Nay, I have heard him groan, like a sick Girl;

And that smooth Tongue which us'd to move so much,
And make the Romans set down all it said,
Would faulter then, and stammer out strange things.
Gods! why should one of such a feeble Temper
Be set upon the Top of all this World,
To look down on Mankind? (A Shout.

BRUTUS.
Another Shout! sure Rome is turn'd a Revel! (Another Shout.
I fear at least they crown him with Applause.

CASSIUS.
Why, Man, he now bestrides the narrow World,
Like a Colossus; and we petty Men
Walk under his huge Legs, and peep about,
To find our selves dishonourable Graves.
Men, at some times, are Masters of their Fates;
The Fault, dear Brutus, is not in our Stars,
But in our selves, that we are Underlings.
Brutus, and Cæsar! where's the difference?

Why should that Name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a Name;
Shout Brutus, and the Echo is as loud:
Brutus and Cæsar! conjure with those Names,
Brutus will start a Spirit, as soon as Cæsar.
Now in the Name of all the Gods at once,
On what high Fame does this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd!
Rome, thou hast lost thy Breed of noble Blood!
When did there pass an Age, since Time first was,
That the whole World resounded but one Man?
When could they say, till now, who talk'd of Rome,
That her wide Walls contain'd one single Heroe?
O, you and I have heard our Fathers say,
There was a Brutus once, who kill'd his Sons,
And would have slain his dearest Friend, nay Father,
Rather than suffer Rome to be enslav'd.

BRUTUS.
That Cassius loves 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 shall recount hereafter; for this present,
I would not (if with Love I might intreat it)
Be any farther mov'd. What you have said,
I will consider; what you have to say,
I will with Patience bear, and find a time
Both fit to hear, and answer such high things.
Till then, my noble Friend, remember this;
Brutus had rather be a Villager,
A worthless Stranger, than a Son of Rome,
Under such hard Conditions as this Time
Is like to lay upon us.

CASSIUS.
I am happy,
That my weak Words have drawn thus much from Brutus.

BRUTUS.
A suddain Storm! I'll leave you, noble Cassius; (Excessive Thunder and Lightning, on a suddain.

We are observ'd. At Midnight, if you please,
We'll meet again, and talk of this more largely.

CASSIUS.
I will not fail to wait on worthy Brutus. (Exit Brutus. SCENE V. Enter Casca to Cassius.

CASSIUS.
Who's there?

CASCA.
A Roman.

CASSIUS.
Casca, by your Voice.

CASCA.
Your Ear is good. The Air is strangely chang'd!

CASSIUS.
A very harmless Air to honest Men.

CASCA.
Who ever knew the Heavens threaten so?

CASSIUS.
Who ever knew the Earth so full of Faults?
For my part, I'll walk still about the Streets,
Submitting to the Dangers of the Storm;
Unbutton'd thus, and careless, as you see,
Will bare my Bosom to the Thunderbolt,
Just as the fiery Flash begins to dart.

CASCA.
But wherefore would you so much tempt the Gods?
Sure, 'tis our part rather to fear, and tremble,
When they, for Causes to poor Men unknown,
Send dreadful Heraulds to denounce a War.

CASSIUS.
You are dull, Casca, and those Sparks of Fire
That should inflame a Roman Breast, you want,
Or else dissemble: You look pale, and gaze,
And put on Fear, and lose your self in Wonder,

To see this strange Disorder in the Heavens:
Think on the Earth, good Casca; think on Rome;
If fiery Meteors, and Fool-frighting Ghosts,
If monstrous Births, and strange portentous things,
As you believe, break Nature's settled Course;
'Tis to accompany this monstrous State.
I could now, Casca, name to thee a Man
Most like this dreadful Night, which Thunders, Lightens,
Tears open Graves, and keeps us all in Terror:
A Man no mightier than thy self, or me,
In real Might, in Worth; yet grown a Giant;
And every Roman else seems but a Pigmy.

CASCA.
It is not hard to guess the Man you mean.

CASSIUS.
No matter for his Name; for Romans now
Have Limbs, and Sinews, like their Ancestors;
But where the Minds of all our famous Fathers?

Dead, dead with them! we have our Mother's Spirits;
'Tis Womanish to see, and suffer this.

CASCA.
Indeed, they say, the Senators to morrow
Mean to establish Cæsar for their King;
And he shall wear his Crown by Sea, and Land,
In every Place, but here in Italy.

CASSIUS.
I know where I shall wear this Dagger then.
Cassius from Bondage will deliver Cassius.
Herein the poor are rich, the weak most strong;
By this, the wretched mock at base Oppression;
The meanest are victorious o'er the mighty.
Not Tow'rs of Stone, nor Walls of harden'd Brass,
Nor airless Dungeons, the poor Strength of Tyrants,
Not all their strongest Guards, nor heaviest Chains,
Can in the least controul the mighty Spirit.
For, noble Life, when weary of it self,
Has always Power to shake it off, at pleasure.

Since I know this, know all the World besides,
That part of Tyranny prepar'd for me,
I can and will defy.

CASCA.
And so can I.
Thus ev'ry Bondman in his own Hand bears
The Pow'r to cancel his Captivity.

CASSIUS.
And why should Cæsar be a Tyrant then?
Poor Man! I know he would not be a Wolf,
But that he sees the Romans are but Sheep:
He were no Lion, if we were not Lambs.
But oh, disorder'd Grief, where hast thou led me!
I speak, perhaps, before a willing Bondman,
One whom tame Fools miscall a mod'rate Man;
That is, a mean Complyer with the Times.
But I am arm'd within against all Danger.

CASCA.
Cassius, you speak to Casca, to a Man

Whose Thoughts have all this while out-gone your Words;
Here take my Hand, and make what use of it
The Times and our Necessities require;
I am resolv'd.

CASSIUS.
Then, there's a Bargain made.
Now know, good Casca, I have mov'd already
Some of the boldest noblest-minded Romans
To undertake with me an Enterprize
Of honourable, dang'rous Consequence.
They now all stay for me in Pompey's Porch,
(And such a Night as this requires a Shelter)
A Night, that's like the noble Work in hand,
All black, and terrible! but soft; stand close. Enter Trebonius.

CASCA.
Trebonius, now I know him by his Gait.

CASSIUS.
He is a Friend; pray hold, whither so fast?

TREBONIUS.
To look out you. Who's that, Metellus Cimber?

CASSIUS.
No, 'tis our Casca, one as bold, and honest;
Am I not stay'd for?

TREBONIUS.
What a Night is this!
There's two or three of us have seen strange Sights!

CASSIUS.
Well, let 'em see them. Tell me, am I staid for?

TREBONIUS.
You are.
O Cassius, if you could prevail with Brutus;
He, as a Band, would tye our Party strong.

CASCA.
Why is not Brutus one? I thought him sure.

CASSIUS.
Be you content. Trebonius, take this Scrole,
And look you lay it in the ready way,
Where Brutus needs must find it; then, throw this
In at his Window; set this up with Wax
Upon old Brutus's Statue: all this done,
Repair to Pompey's Porch, where you shall find us.
Is Decius Brutus, and Marullus there?

TREBONIUS.
All, all are there, except Metellus Cimber;
And he is gone to seek you at your House.

CASSIUS.
Away then; lose no time: Come, my good Casca,
We will go visit Brutus yet e're Day:
Three Parts of that good Man are ours already,
And, on the next Assault, he yields entire.

CASCA.
Oh, he sits high in all the People's Hearts.

CASSIUS.
So, that which would appear Offence in us,

His Countenance, like the great Art of Chymists,
Will change to Virtue, and to noble Deeds.

CASCA.
Him and his Worth, and our great need of him,
You have consider'd well. Come let's make haste.

CASSIUS.
The Sun that sees him next, shall find him ours. Exeunt.

Instead of the Musick usually play'd between the Acts, the following Verses are, after this Act, to be sung by a Chorus representing the Roman People. First CHORUS.

I.
  Whither is Roman Honour gone?
    Where is our ancient Virtue now?
  That Valour, which so bright has shone,
  And with the Wings of Conquest flown,
    Must to a haughty Master bow:
Who, with our Toil, our Blood, and all we have beside,
Gorges his ill-got Pow'r, his Humour, and his Pride.

II.
  Fearless he will his Life expose;
    So does a Lion, or a Bear;
  His very Virtues threaten those,
    Who more his bold Ambition fear.
    How stupid Wretches we appear,
Who round the World for Wealth and Empire roam;
Yet never, never think what Slaves we are at home!

III.
  Did Men, for this, together join;
    Quitting the free wild Life of Nature?
  What other Beast did e're design
    The setting up his Fellow Creature?
    And of two Mischiefs chuse the greater?
Oh, rather than be Slaves to bold imperious Men,
Give us our Wildness, and our Woods, our Hutts, and Caves agen.

IV.
  There secure from lawless Sway,
  Out of Pride, or Envy's way;
  Living up to Nature's Rules,
  Not deprav'd by Knaves and Fools;
Happily we all should live, and harmless as our Sheep,
And at last as calmly die, as Infants fall asleep.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Brutus alone in his House undrest.
He would be King; nay will be, if he lives;
This most important Day disclos'd that Secret:
Ambition, like a mad tempestuous Sea,
Swell'd him above the Bounds of wise dissembling.
And ended all our Hopes of future Freedom.
Justice, and Liberty! Farewell for ever!
If Brutus is thus sensible of Slav'ry,
I, who am Cæsar's Friend, and partial for him;
What is it then to others? to those thousands
Who must lye heap'd in Dust, to raise him higher?
But my own Words reproach me; can I call
My self his Friend, and yet consent to kill him?
By Heav'n, no less than plain Ingratitude!

That heavy Load presses my tender mind;
I cannot bear it. Nay, this Cæsar also
Is humbly brave, and gentle in his Greatness;
Apt for Converse, and easy of Access;
Skill'd in all Arts, matchless in Eloquence;
In War and Business indefatigable.
Bounteous as Nature, merciful as Heav'n;
In all, sublime, high, and unparallel'd.
Yet oft Humility is but the Ladder,
By which th' ambitious Climber gets so high;
But, when he once attains the upmost Round,
Then straight he throws the useless Engine down,
Looks in the Clouds, and scorns the low degrees
By which he did ascend. Then Rome is lost!
But is there no way left us, but his Death?
What, kill the best, and bravest of Mankind,
Only for Jealousy? Of being Slaves.
Oh dismal Sound! Who can dread that too much?
The fear of Slavery is Fortitude.
And, to advise him? No, 'tis easier

To kill a Tyrant amidst all his Guards,
Than give him Counsel for his Country's Good.
This Cæsar's Prudence may a while restrain him;
But if Ambition once transports his Mind,
Down sink at once all thoughts of Right, or Reason.
Goodness of Nature makes some struggle in him;
But even that Goodness will incline to think,
Rome shall be happier, when himself is higher.
Lucius awake; what hoa! why Lucius!
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.
Lucius, awake, awake;

LUCIUS.
Call you my Lord?

BRUTUS.
Get me a Taper in my Study, Boy;
Then, come and call me strait. (Exit Lucius; Re-enters immediately.

LUCIUS.
Here is a Scroll
Newly thrown in at Window fast seal'd up.

BRUTUS.
Give it me, Boy, and haste to light the Taper. (Exit Lucius.
'Tis not yet Day, but such a fiery Night,
That I may make a shift to read this Parchment.
“Brutus, awake; for Rome has lost her Rest, (Reads.
“And takes it ill that thou shouldst sleep so soundly:
“Awake, and strike!—There was a Brutus once—
“And Tarquin—Ha, thus I must piece it out;
There was a Brutus who redeem'd his Country,
And did what now we all expect from thee.
“Shall Rome—'Tis dark, but sure it must be thus. (Reads.
“Shall Rome, the Mistress of the prostrate World,
“Be ravish'd by a Tyrant? Brutus, strike.
O Rome! and dost thou call upon thy Brutus?

Am I thought worthy of thy choice? 'Tis done:
Thou shalt not wait for aid that I can bring thee. Enter Lucius again.

LUCIUS.
Some body knocks at Gate, Sir, shall I open?

BRUTUS.
See, who 'tis first; go Boy, and bring me word. (Exit Lucius.
Would it were over once; I cannot rest:
In such a Plot there is no Peace of Mind:
The harshness of this Deed would sink my Spirits,
Did not assisting Justice hold me up. Enter Lucius with a Taper.

LUCIUS.
'Tis Cassius, my Lord.

BRUTUS.
Is he alone?

LUCIUS.
No, but I could not well perceive the rest,

Their Faces are so muffled in their Robes.

BRUTUS.
Let them come in. They are the Faction! SCENE II. Enter Cassius and the rest of the Conspirators muffled in their Robes.

BRUTUS.
Welcome, good Brother Cassius: welcome all.

CASSIUS.
Welcome the hour that brings us thus together.

BRUTUS.
Know I these Men?

CASSIUS.
You know them, and their Hearts,
Which are all set upon the Noble Brutus.
This is Trebonius; this Decius Brutus,
This Cinna, Casca, and Metellus Cimber:
Your Friends, and Followers, all.

BRUTUS.
They are most welcome.

CASSIUS.
Brutus, a word. (They whisper.

CASCA.
If Brutus will but join,
Our Fabrick's firm, and nothing then can shake it:
He is the Cement that must hold us fast.

BRUTUS.
Well, noble Lords, I am at last resolv'd;
Ev'n against Friendship Justice has prevail'd.
Give me your resolute Hands.

CASSIUS.
And let us swear.

BRUTUS.
No Oath: the Cause already is so sacred,
There is no need of Oaths to make it more:
If sense of Slavery, and noble Shame,
If Thirst of honest Fame in after Ages,

If glorious Justice cannot move our Souls,
They are too weak for such a Deed as this;
Break off betimes, and every Roman here
Retire with Blushes to his idle Bed;
And then let Tyranny for ever range,
Till each Man falls unpity'd: but if these,
(As who dares make a doubt) are noble Romans;
What needs a Tye among us but our Words?
Plain Honesty to Honesty engag'd,
That Cæsar shall not live to laugh at Cowards.
Let Priests, and Women swear, and feeble Minds,
Which, wav'ring still, need such a Childish check:
We are above such helps, and steady bear
Our even Souls, without one doubtful start.
What Roman dares be base in such a business?
Reckon his Guilt, and Shame, he ventures more
Than if he did attempt ten Thousand Tyrants.

CASSIUS.
But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?
His Gravity will countenance our Heat.

TREBONIUS.
No need of that, now Brutus is engag'd.

BRUTUS.
I know him well, believe him just and wise;
Yet Vanity a little clouds his Virtue:
Nor is he bold enough for such a Business.
The Horse that starts, however good besides,
In War is troublesome, nay dangerous.

DECIUS BRUTUS.
But Antony, so well belov'd by Cæsar,
That Instrument of all his Tyranny,
If he survive, will be another Cæsar.

TREBONIUS.
Decius, well urg'd; Antonius must dye.

BRUTUS.
O, by no means, our course will seem too bloody,
To cut the Head off, and then hack the Limbs:
'Twill look like Anger, nay like Envy too;
For, Antony is great by Cæsar's Favour;

Let us be Sacrificers, but not Butchers.
We only draw our Swords against Ambition;
Not against Cæsar's Person, but his Power:
Oh that we, then, could come at Cæsar's Spirit,
Abate his Pride, and yet not spill his Blood! (Sighs.
It cannot be; Cæsar alas must bleed.
Yet, gentle Friends!
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
Let's serve him up, a Dish fit for the Gods;
Not mangled, as a Feast to Beasts of Prey.
Our Hearts should melt, like those of tender Parents,
Who oft in sharp, but necessary Rage,
Correct offending Children with Remorse,
Feeling more pain than what they make them suffer.
This Mercy too looks better to the World.
Which shall not call us Murderers, but Heroes.
As for Antonius therefore, think not of him;
For he can do no more, than Cæsar's Arm,
When Cæsar's Head is off.

TREBONIUS.
But yet I fear him:
For he loves Cæsar, and is most audacious.

BRUTUS.
I hope that loving Cæsar is no Fault;
Else I confess that I am guilty too:
If he loves Cæsar, all that he can do
Is to be griev'd, and pine away for Cæsar:
And it were strange he should; for he is given
Too much to Wildness, Company, and Pleasures.

CASSIUS.
There is no fear of him; let him not dye;
For he will live and laugh at this hereafter.

DECIMUS BRUTUS.
But hold, how late's the Night?

BRUTUS.
'Tis five, at least.

CASSIUS.
O how I long to welcome the Eighth Hour,

The wish'd Alarm to our great purposes!

DECIMUS BRUTUS.
'Tis time to part, least at our several Homes
We should be miss'd too long.

CASSIUS.
But what if Cæsar
Should forbear coming to the Capitol?
The unaccustom'd Terror of this Night
May move the Augurs to forbid his going:
And, tho' himself's above such idle Fears,
Yet the most wise and brave must yield to Custom.

DECIMUS BRUTUS.
Never doubt that: And tho' he were resolved,
I can o'er-sway him; for he loves to hear me.
Prudence, tho' much superior, often yields
To subtle Mirth, and sly Insinuation.
If Cæsar stay at home because it thunders,
I can in jest reproach him with his fear;
He'll laugh, yet fear he shall be thought afraid.

BRUTUS.
Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
But see, 'tis almost Day; some light appears.

CASSIUS.
Then let us be dispers'd, like foggy Clouds,
To meet again in Thunder.

BRUTUS.
Friends, farewell.
Only remember that we all are Romans;
That thought will keep up our exalted Spirits Exeunt Conspirators, Manet Brutus. SCENE III. Enter Portia undress'd, as new risen from Bed.

PORTIA.
Brutus! my Lord, where are you?

BRUTUS.
What, my Portia?
Why do you thus expose your tender health?

PORTIA.
Can I consider Health, without your Love?
You have unkindly stol'n from me to Night,
And by your Absence robb'd me of my Rest:
How could my Brutus thus ungently leave
One so unwilling to be left by you?

BRUTUS.
  Chide not too much, my Portia; and yet
There is some pleasure to be chid so kindly.
Our Sex has tenderness equal to yours;
Yet we, incumbred with vexatious Cares,
No sooner bend our softer Thoughts to Love,
But Business, like a Master too severe,
Stands hov'ring over us amidst our Pleasure,
And drags us to our tiresome Task again.

PORTIA.
But Life is short; O why should we mispend it?
A Wretch condemn'd to dye within few hours,
Would think them ill employ'd in Complements:

The solemn Trifles of a busy World
Are oft but Complement, compar'd with Love,
Whose short and precious hours you throw away.

BRUTUS.
Dear Portia, now you but disturb my Thoughts.

PORTIA.
Can mine be easy then? 'tis no small thing
Can vex your even Mind, and make you froward,
Froward with me, which you was ne'er till now:
This Night I folded you within these Arms,
And ask'd you if you slept, if you were well?
You said, you could not sleep, and yet turn'd from me.

BRUTUS.
Turning from thee is Restlesness indeed;
Thou only Comfort to my troubled Mind!
May Joys, and full Content remain in yours.

PORTIA.
Oh, preach Content to one upon a Rack,
And he will hear as soon.

My Soul is so perplex'd with Fears for you,
That all the Joys of Nature, or of Fortune,
Could find no entrance here at such a time.

BRUTUS.
Retire, retire; talking so tenderly,
You, like officious and condoling Friends,
But more afflict that Mind you would compose.
I hope you think me neither false nor foolish;
If it were fit for you to know my Cares,
'Twere ill in me to let you ask me twice:
Let that suffice, and leave me; 'tis a word,
I never us'd to thee before.

PORTIA.
Alas!
You would not use it now, if still you lov'd.
Can you have thoughts unfit to own to me?
You are unjust, and I undone, farewel.

BRUTUS.
What means my Portia?

PORTIA.
Brutus unjust!
Oh, 'tis a Wonder, which your very Foes
Would not believe, tho' told it by your Friends:
And to me too, who had least cause to fear it!
So little I deserv'd to find him so.
Am I but only Partner of your Pleasures?
Fit for your trifling Hours, and to be kept
At hateful distance from your nobler Thoughts?
What is it I have innocently done,
To lose that Trust, which always follows Kindness.
And therefore yours is chang'd; I see it plainly:
Thunder is fall'n on my poor guiltless Head, (Weeps.
And all but I, perhaps, have heard the Blow.

BRUTUS.
In this you wrong me Portia.

PORTIA.
Would I did:
I never wish'd a Wrong to you before.

BRUTUS
How have I liv'd, and which of all my Actions
Has giv'n the least occasion ev'n for Malice?
I am, you know, not like the rest of Husbands;
My Promise and my Vows are Tyes to me,
As strong as Fame and Virtue are to you:
I will not mention now the Bands of Love,
In which I thought we were for ever fix'd.
What these unjust Suspicions may produce
Either in you or me, alas, I know not.
Therefore be calm and kind, as thou art us'd,
And try such rough ungentle ways no more.
My Mind, you know, hardens against Compulsion,
But easily bends under gentle Usage.

PORTIA.
O let me now try that soft way again.
Thus low, thus tenderly, I beg to know (Falls on his Neck.
That which, in troubling you, ev'n tortures me.
Shunn'd as I am, I have a share in all

Your Resolutions, spite of your Unkindness.
You cannot shut me out from tender cares
For every thought of yours: that zealous part
The meanest Slave may have in mighty Cæsar,
And yet give no offence.

BRUTUS.
The mighty Cæsar!
I am that meanest Slave, if he remain (Apart.
The mighty Cæsar. Kneel not, gentle Portia.

PORTIA.
I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. (Weeps.

BRUTUS.
O my soft Heart! my Resolution's arm'd
Against all Dangers, nay, against my Friend;
Yet firm to all things else, it yields to Love; (Takes her in his Arms.
It yields to Portia. You are now too charming.
For pity hide your Kindness, or your Beauty;
There's no resisting both.

PORTIA.
'Tis Kindness only
Which makes me wish I had that Beauty too
But are you, then, not angry?

BRUTUS.
What, with thee?
The most obdurate Creature, ev'n a Tyrant,
In all his height of Anger, and of Pride,
Could not be proof against one Tear of thine. (Kisses her.
O Portia, be not you that Tyrant then;
For well you know your Pow'r, and may be mine.

PORTIA.
But tell me all.

BRUTUS.
Then, know that they who came to me this Night—
But why shou'd I go on to thee, my Portia,
In any Language but in that of Love?
Tis to profane thy Ear, to entertain it

With any harsher sound; spare then thy self.

PORTIA.
But you were just about to let me know.

BRUTUS.
Know what? know things that will but trouble thee?
Believe me, Portia, 'tis dangerous
For thee to tread in these obscurer Paths;
Serpents lye hidden there, whose conscious Sting
Will rob thee of thy rest.
Oh, press not thus to bear a part in that,
Which with its weight will crush thy tender Mind.

PORTIA.
I am a Woman, but am Cato's Daughter.
My Heart is tender, but to Brutus only.
Think you 'tis nothing, to have such a Father,
And such a Husband?

BRUTUS.
Well then, hear it all.

PORTIA.
Hold, dearest Brutus!
I dare not hear it yet; I'll try this first. She stabs her self in the Arm.

BRUTUS.
Hold, what d'ye mean?

PORTIA.
To try my Fortitude.
For tho' I durst have trusted my firm Mind
With any thing which but concern'd my self;
Where you're engag'd, it was too great a venture:
I doubt my firmest thoughts, while you suspect them.

BRUTUS.
Oh, Wonder of thy Sex!
Gods! make me worthy of this matchless Woman!
Haste, haste, and let thy Wound be quickly dress'd.
Within I'll tell thee all,
And in thy Bosom pour my very Soul. Exit Porcia.

Enter Lucius.

LUCIUS.
A Messenger, my Lord, from mighty Cæsar
Is sent to summon you, and Caius Cassius,
About some weighty matter presently. (Exit Lucius.

BRUTUS.
From Cæsar? and my Brother Cassius too?
An early Summons this! We are betray'd,
Lost and undone, yet less in our own ruin,
Than in the letting him escape. Oh Rome,
Thou hast in vain depended on thy Brutus!
But I will go, lest my delaying now
Should raise Suspicion; and if all's discover'd,
My Life is useless, and not worth my Care. (Exeunt.

Between the second and third Act, these Verses are to be sung by a Person representing the Genius of Rome. Second CHORUS.
Lo, to prevent this mighty Empire's Doom,
From bright unknown Abodes of Bliss I come,
The awful Genius of Majestick Rome.
Great is her Danger: but I will engage
Some few, the Master-Souls of all this Age,
To do an Act of just Heroic Rage.
'Tis hard, a Man so great, should fall so low;
More hard, to let so brave a People bow
To one themselves have rais'd, who scorns them now.

Yet oh, I grieve, that Brutus should be stain'd;
Whose Life, excepting this one Act, remain'd
So pure, that future times will think it feign'd.
But only he can make the rest combine;
The very Life, and Soul of their Design;
The Centre, where those mighty Spirits join.
Unthinking Men no sort of Scruples make;
Others do ill, only for Mischief's sake;
But ev'n the best are guilty by Mistake.
Thus some, for Envy, or Revenge, intend
To bring the bold Usurper to his end;
But for his Country, Brutus stabs his Friend.

ACT III. SCENE I. The Scene is Cæsar's Apartment, where he appears Undress'd.

CÆSAR.
Ambition, Oh thou Tyrant of my Soul!
How much a gentler Lord am I to Rome,
Than thou to me! I am the only Slave.
This Day was dully spent in publick Sports,
Things too magnificent for true Delight.
Joy dwells in silent Shades, and private Pleasures;
In Peace, and not in Pomp: then, my long Nights,
Those precious Hours design'd for soft Repose,
Are by unruly Cares thus ravish'd from me.

Enter Junius.

JUNIUS.
Brutus and Cassius attend your Pleasure.

CÆSAR.
I tell thee, Junius, my trusty Freed-man,
That melancholic Cassius needs observing.
If e'er I could be capable of Fear,
I think it would be of that pensive Cassius.
He loves not Learning, no not Poetry;
Nor is his sullen humour pleas'd with Musick.
When others laugh, he so demurely smiles
As if he thought it Meanness to be merry
Seldom he likes what others most approve,
And loves to praise what all men else dislike.
Such Men as he are never at their Ease,
While they behold a greater than themselves.
Yet he is brave, and shall have due Preferment. Exit Junius.

SCENE II. Enter Brutus and Cassius.

CÆSAR.
You seem amaz'd at such an early Summons;
I have not slept all Night.

CASSIUS.
On what account?

CÆSAR.
'Tis only what I suffer from my Cares.
But my unquiet Mind should not disturb
Such noble Romans, had you not been both
Nearly concern'd in what I have to say.

CASSIUS.
We are betray'd. (Softly.

BRUTUS.
No matter; let us not
Betray our selves by want of Resolution. (Softly.

CÆSAR.
The two great vacant Offices of Prætors,
(On which ev'n neighb'ring Princes look with Envy)
Shall now be fill'd by two the greatest Romans.
I owe the Commonwealth that Care, to find
Who best deserves her Favour or her Frown.

CASSIUS.
We neither beg for one, nor fear the other.

CÆSAR.
Cassius, I know your Soul is void of Fear.
And above grudging at your Brother's Greatness.

CASSIUS.
I understand no Oracles; but sure
Brutus and I are Friends, as well as Brothers.

CÆSAR.
And therefore you will be the more contented,
If I advance him ev'n above your self;
Desert like his can never rise too high.
I know no pleasure equal to obliging

Transcendent Merit in an humble Mind.
Such modest Worth should get the Prize from Courtship
Yet this may only be my Love's mistake;
For, I confess my Weakness, I am frail (Embracing Brutus.
Like other Men, and partial for a Friend;
Yet that's a fault Heav'n easily forgives.
Be thou, my best lov'd Brutus, Chief of Prætors:
And, Cassius may accept the second Place, (To Cassius.
Not only in the State, but my Affection.
No thanks; a Coin not counted among Friends. (Exit Cæsar. SCENE III.

CASSIUS.
'Tis well it proves no worse.

BRUTUS.
What worse can be?

CASSIUS.
Sure, Brutus has no reason to complain.

BRUTUS.
Yes, of you, Cassius; if you can believe
I would receive a Favour from a Foe.
Is this a time to be oblig'd by Cæsar?
Good Gods! had I not doubts enough before?
Did I not struggle hard enough for Virtue?
That this last Tenderness of his is added
To shake my very Soul? The strong impression
May break my Heart, but shall not bend my Mind.
Cassius in this is honour'd more than Brutus;
For, when our Country is so much debased,
Repulse is glorious; and Advancement Shame:
I'll not be rais'd by him who ruins her.
It was no private Injury provok'd me;
Frowns had not frighten'd me, nor shall his Favours

With all their Syren Voice entice me to him.
I must go on through Virtue's plainest course;
In that smooth Path there is no fear of falling. SCENE IV. Enter the Conspirators, and other Senators.

CASSIUS.
See if our Friends are not already come.
Tis later than we thought. You are well met.

CINNA.
Is Cæsar stirring yet?

CASSIUS.
Just now gone in;
And will, when drest, immediately come forth.
Fear nothing, all's secure.

SCENE V. Enter Cæsar again, dress'd.

CÆSAR.
Welcome, my Friends.

DECIMUS BRUTUS.
The Senate does attend great Cæsar's Presence;
And we are come to wait upon you thither.

CÆSAR.
Let 'em attend a while, 'tis early yet. SCENE VI. Enter Antony.

What, Antony, who revels all the Night,
Is he up too? Nay, then 'tis time to go.

ANTONY.
Rather to stay: I came not here in Courtship.
But 'tis the sacred College of the Priests

Which brought me hither; and they wait without.
Hear 'em, Great Cæsar; it concerns you nearly,
And what does so is for the Good of Rome.

CÆSAR.
The Senate stays, another time will serve. (As he is going out, enter the Priests who stop him.

PRIEST.
Great Cæsar, hail! Forgive our zealous haste,
Urg'd by Divine Portent which sent us here,
To warn the mighty Ruler of the World.

CÆSAR.
Speak: I attend the Message of the Gods.

PRIEST.
As on Mount Aventine I lately sate,
Attir'd with sacred Robes, and Southward turn'd;
The Heav'ns all clear, and free from black Presage:
With my bent Wand I the due Rites perform'd,
And parted all the Regions of the Air.
When lo, ill-boding Birds appear'd from far,

Bearing Misfortunes on their ominous Wings:
I gaz'd upon them with Prophetick skill,
Till a fierce flash of Lightning check'd my Sight.
Then, in one instant, all the Heav'ns were chang'd;
Clouds, swell'd with Thunder, rowl'd themselves along,
With noise too horrible for humane Ear.

CÆSAR.
It thunder'd, and it lighten'd: well, go on.

SECOND PRIEST.
Omens of ill in several kinds agree:
Having new chose for solemn Sacrifice
A large-grown Bull, the goodliest of the Herd;
With an unwonted Rage he breaks his Chains,
Making fierce way through all the frighten'd Crowd,
Which gaz'd, and trembled; so divided stood
Betwixt their Curiosity and Fear:
At last, he at the Altar laid him down,
And seem'd to beg the Blow, which none durst give;
Then on a sudden shook the Air like Thunder;

And with unheard of Bellowing breath'd his last.
When open'd, we beheld with Eyes amaz'd
This boist'rous Beast that rag'd with so much clamour,
Yet had no Heart.

CÆSAR.
And I should seem like him,
Did I give way to every idle Fear.

PRIEST.
Is it an idle thing to fear the Gods?
Thou 'rt in their Power, as the World in thine;
And each may own a Fear without a Blush.

ANTONY.
Good Cæsar be advis'd: in this one thing
Yield to your Friends, and send the Senate word
You are not well.

CÆSAR.
What, send 'em an Excuse?
Have I in Conquest stretch'd my Arm so far,
And fear at last to tell Grey-beards the Truth?

No, Antony, Truth will bear out it self.
I would do much to give my Friends Content;
So, let them know I shall not come to day;
Cannot, is false, and, that I dare not, falser.
I will not come: Go tell it to the Senate. (To Decius Brutus.

DECIUS BRUTUS.
But shall not I pretend some Cause for this?

CÆSAR.
The Cause is in my Will. I will not go.
That is enough to satisfy the Senate.

DECIUS BRUTUS.
Sir, I obey; but pardon my Affection,
If it offends you with untimely Care:
The Senate is resolv'd to give a Crown
This day to mighty Cæsar: Who can tell,
But by to morrow their loose Minds may change?
Assemblies are uncertain as the Sea,
Which ebbs and flows, now rises, and now falls,

Just as the hum'rous Wind inclines to move.
No Woman changes more than Crowds of Men.

CÆSAR.
How weak your Fears seem now, good Antony!
I must not let the fair occasion fall.
Prepare the Ceremony, I am stay'd for.

BRUTUS.
Prudence in vain defends unhappy Men:
When Heav'n ordains, the Wisest haste to Ruin. (Exeunt Omnes

To be sung after the Third Act, by two Aerial Spirits. Third CHORUS

I.
Tell, oh tell me, whence arise
These Disorders in our Skies?
Rome's great Genius wildly gaz'd
And the Gods seem all amaz'd.

II.
Know, in sight of this Day's Sun,
Such a Deed is to be done,
Black enough to shroud the Light
Of all this World in dismal Night.

I.
What is this Deed?

II.
To kill a Man,
The Greatest since Mankind began:
Learned, eloquent and wise,
  Gen'rous, merciful and brave!

I.
Yet not too great a Sacrifice,
  The Liberty of Rome to save?

II.
But will not Goodness claim Regard?
And does not Worth deserve Reward?

I.
Does not their Country lye at stake?
Can they do too much for her sake?

Both together.
Tho' dreadful be this Doom of Fate,
  Just is that Pow'r which governs all:
  Better this wond'rous Man should fall,
Than a most glorious, virtuous State.