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Goes flow and fately by them; thrice he walk'd
By their opprefs'd and fear-furprised eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; whilft they (distill'd
Almost to jelly with th' effect of fear)

Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful fecrecy impart they did,

And I with them the third night kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes. I knew your father:
Thefe hands are not more like.

HAM. But where was this?

HOR. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. HAM. Did you not speak to it?

HOR. My lord, I did;

But answer made it none.

Yet once methought

It lifted up its head, and did addrefs

Itfelf to motion, like as it would fpeak,

But even then the morning cock crew loud;
And at the found it shrunk in hafle away,
And vanish'd from our fight.

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HOR. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true:

And we did think it writ down in our duty

To let you know of it.

HAM. Indeed, indeed, Sir, but this troubles me.

Hold you the watch to-night?

'HOR. We do, my lord.

HAM. Arm'd, fay you?

HOR. Arm'd, my lord.
HAM. From top to toe?

HOR. My lord, from head to foot.

HAM. Then faw you not his face?

HOR. Oyes, my lord: he wore his beaver up.
HAM. What, look'd he frowningly?

HOR. A countenance more in forrow than in

anger.

HAM. Pale, or red?

HOR. Nay, very pale.

HAM. And fix'd his eyes upon you?
HOR. Moft conftantly.

HAM. I would I had been there!

HOR. It would have much amaz'd you.

HAM. Very like. Staid it long?

HOR. While one with moderate hafte might tell hundred.

HAM. His beard was grifled?—no.

HOR. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A fable filver'd.

HAM. I'll watch to night; perchance 'twill walk agains

HOR. I warrant you it will.

HAM. If it affumes my noble father's person,

I'll speak to it, though Hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this fight
Let it be ten'ble in your filence ftill:
And whatsoever fhall befal to night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue :
I will requite your love: fo fare ye well.
Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve
I'll vifit you.

CHAP. XIV.

BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.

SHAKSPEARE.

CAS. WILL you go fee the order of the course?

BRU. Not I.

CAS. I pray you, do.

BRU. I am not gamesome ; I do lack fome part Of that quick fpirit that is in Anteny ;

Let me not hinder, Caffius, your defires:

I'll leave you.

L

CAS

CAS. Brutus, I do obferve you now of late; I have not from your eyes that gentleness

And show of love as I was wont to have;

You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.

BRU. Caffius,

Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
Of late with paffions of fome difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself;

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 farther my neglect,

Than that poor Brutus, with himfelf at war,
Forgets the show of love to other men.

CAS. Then, Brutus, I have much miftook 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 itself,
But by reflection from fome other thing.
CAS. 'Tis just.

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirror as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,

That
you might fee 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 yoke,
Have wifh'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?

- CAS.

CAS. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear;
And fince you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modeftly discoyer 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
To ftale with ordinary oaths my love

To every new proteftor; 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 felf in banquetting

To all the rout; then hold me dangerous.

BRU. What means this fhouting? I do fear the people Choose Cæfar for their king.

CAS. Ay? do you fear it?

Then muft 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 Death indifferently:

For let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of Honour more than I fear Death.
CAS. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the fubject of my 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 myself.
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.

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For once upon a raw and gufty day,

The troubled Tiber chafing with his fhores,
Cæfar 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 bid 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 controversy.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæfar cried, Help me, Caffius, or I fink.
I, as Eneas, our great ancestor,

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchifes bear; fo from the waves of Tiber
Did I the tired Cæfar: and this man
Is now become a god; and Caffius is
A wretched creature, and muft bend his body,
If Cæfar carelessly but nod on him.

He had a fever when he was in Spain,

And when the fit was on him, I did mark

How he did fhake. 'Tis true; this god did fhake;
His coward lips did from their colour fly,

And that fame eye whofe bend does awe the world,
Did lofe its luftre; I did hear him groan :

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his fpeeches in their books,
Alas! it cried-Give me fome drink, Titinius -
As a fick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of fuch a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majeftic world,
And bear the palm alone.

BRU. Another general fhout!

I do believe, that the fe applaufes are

For fome new honours that are heap'd on Cæfar.

CAS.

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