Had falfely thrust upon contrary feet),
Told of a many thoufand warlike French,
That were embatteled and rank'd in Kent:
Another lean unwafh'd artificer

Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.

Kings evil Purposes too fer-vilely and haflily executed.

It is the curfe of kings, to be attended
By flaves, that take their humours for a warrant
To break into the bloody houfe of life;
And, on the winking of authority,

To understand a law; to know a meaning
Of dang'rous majefty, when, perchance, it frowns
More upon humour than advis'd refpect.

A Villain's Look, and wicked Zeal.
How oft the fight of means to do ill deeds
Makes deeds ill done! Hadeft not thou been by,
A fellow, by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted, and fign'd, to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind:
Hadft thou but fhook thy head, or made a pause,
When I fpake darkly what I purpofed;
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,
Or bid me tell my tale in exprefs words;
Deep thame had ftruck me dumb, made me break
off,
[me.
And thofe thy fears might have wrought fears in

Hypocrify.

Truft not thofe cunning waters of his eyes,
For villainy is not without fuch rheum;
And he, long traded in it, makes it seem
Like rivers of remorfe and innocency.
Deffair.

If thou didst but confent

To this most cruel act, do but defpair,
And, if thou want'ft a cord, the fmalleft thread
That ever fpider twisted from her womb
Will ferve to ftrangle thee; a rush will be a beam
To hang thee on: or, wouldft thou drown thyself,
Put but a little water in a spoon,
And it shall be as all the ocean,
Enough to stifle fuch a villain up.

A Man's Tears.

Let me wipe off this honourable dew,
That filverly doth progrefs on thy cheeks:
My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,
Being an ordinary inundation;

But this effufion of fuch manly drops,
This fhow'r, blown up by tempeft of the foul,
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz d,
Than had I feen the vaulty top of heaven
Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.
Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
And with a great heart heave away this ftorm:
Commend thefe waters to thofe baby-eyes
That never faw the giant-world enrag'd;
Nor met with fortune other than at fafts,
Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gofliping.
Drums.

Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war

Plead for our int reft.

Do but fart An echo with the clamour of thy drum,

Ay,

Madness, occafioned by Poifon.

7, marry, now my foul hath elbow-room,
It would not out at windows, nor at doors.
There is fo hot a fummer in my botom,
That all my bowels crumble up to duft:
I am a fcribbled form, drawn with a pen
Upon a parchment; and againft this fire
Do I fhrink up.

Poifon'd-ill fare—dead, forsook, cast off:
And none of you will bid the winter come
To thruft his icy fingers in my maw;
Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
Thro' my burnt bofom; nor entreat the north
To make his bleak winds kifs my parched lips,

And comfort me with cold.

England invincible, if unanimous. England never did (nor never thail) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it firft did help to wound itself. Now thefe her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them :-Nought fhall make us If England to itself do reft but true.

$27. JULIUS CÆSAR.

[rue,

SHAKSPEARE.

Patriotism. 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' the other, And I will look on both indifferently: For, let the Gods fo fpeed me, as I love The name of honour more than I fear death,

Caffius, in contempt of Cæfar.

I was born free as Cæfar; to 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 1aw and gufty day,
The troubled Tyber chafing with his thores,
Cæfar fays to me, "Dar'ft thou, Caflius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?"Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,

And bade him follow: fo, indeed, he did.
The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lufty finews; throwing it afide,
And ftemming it with hearts of controverfy.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd.
Cæfar cried," Help me, Caffius, or
I, as Eneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his fhoulder

fink."

The

It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor fleep;
And, could it work fo much upon your shape,
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
I fhould not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
Calpburnia to Cæfar, on the Prodigies feen the
Night before his Death.

Cal. I never ftood on ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
Befides the things that we have heard and feen,
Recounts most horrid fights feen by the watch.
A lionefs hath whelped in the streets;
And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead:
Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds,
In ranks, and fquadrons, and right form of war,
Which drizzled blood upon the capitol:
The noife of battle hurtled in the air;
Horfes did neigh, and dying men did groan;
And ghofts did thrick, and squeal about the streets.
O Cafar! thefe things are beyond all ufe,
And I do fear them.

Cefar. What can be avoided, Whole end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods? Yet Caefar fhall go forth: for theie predictions Are to the world in general, as to Cæfar. Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets feen; The heavens themfelves blaze forth the death of princes.

Again the Fears of Death. Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never tafte of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It feems to me moft ftrange, that men thould fear; Secing that death, a neceflary end, Will come, when it will come.

Envy.

My heart laments, that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation.

Antony to the Corpfe of Cafar.

O mighty Cæfar! doft thou lie fo low? Are all thy conquefts, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure fare thee well.

His Addrefs to the Confpirators.

I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, Who elfe muft be let blood, who elfe is rank: 3f I myfelf, there is no hour fo fit

As Cæfar's death's hour; nor no inftrument
Of half that worth, as thofe your fwords, made rich
With the most noble blood of all this world.
I do befecch ye, if you bear me hard,
Now, whilft your purpled hands do reek and finoke,
Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
I fhall not find myself fo apt to die:
No place will pleafe me fo, no mean of death,
As here by Cæfar, and by you cut off,
The choice and master fpirits of this age.

With Até by his fide, come hot from hell,
Shall in thefe confines, with a monarch's voice,
Cry," Havoc!" and let flip the dogs of war.
Antony's Funeral Oration.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your

ears;

I am come to bury Cæfar, not to praise him.
The evil, that men do, lives after thein;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Cæfar! The noble Brutus
Hath told you Cafar was ambitious:
If it were fo, it was a grievous fault;
And grievoufly hath Cafar aufwer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the reft,
(For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men)
Come I to peak in Cafar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And Brutes is an honourable man.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whole rantoms did the general coffers fil:
Did this in Cæfar feem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Cafar hath wept,
Ambition fhould be made of fterner ftud:
Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did fee, that, on the Lupercal,
I thrice prefented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refufe. Was this ambition *
Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And, fure, he is an honourable man.
But here I am to fpeak what I do know.
I speak not to difprove what Brutus fpeke,

You all did love him once, not without caule;.
What caufe with-holds you then to mourn for

him?

O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beafs,
And men have loft their reafon !-Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Cafar,
And I muft paufe till it come back to me.

But yesterday the word of Cafar might
Have food against the world: now lies he there,
And none fo poor to do him reverence.
O mafters! if I were difpos'd to fir-
Your hearts and minds to inutiny and rage,
I fhould do Brutus wrong, and Callius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men:
I will not do them wrong; I rather chufe
Το wrong the dead, to wrong myfelf, and you,
Than I will wrong fuch honourable men.
But here's a parchment with the feal of Cæfar;
I found it in his clofet, 'tis his will;
Let but the commons hear this teftament
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read),
And they would go and kifs dead Cæfar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his facred blood
Yea, beg a hair of him, for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,
Unto their issue.

4 Pleb. We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.

All. The will, the will; we will hear Cofar's will.

Ant.

It is not meet you know how Cæfar lov'd you.
You are not wood, you are not ftones, but men;
And, being men, hearing the will of Cæfar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;
For if you thould—O, what would come of it!
4 Pleb. Read the will; we will hear it, Antony;
You fhall read us the will; Cæfar's will.

Ant. Will you be patient? will you ftay awhile?
I have o'erfhot myfelf, to tell you of it.
I fear, I wrong the honourable men
Whofe daggers have stabb'd Cæsar—I do fear it.
4 Pleb. They were traitors :-honourable men!
All. The will! the teftament !

Ant. You will compel me then to read the will? Then make a ring about the corpfe of Cæfar, And let me fhew you him that made the will. Shall I defcend? and will you give me leave? All. Come down. 2 Pleb. Defcend.

[He comes down from the pulpit Ant. If you have tears, prepare to fhed them

now.

You all do know this mantle: I remember
The first time ever Cæfar put
it on;
'Twas on a fummer's evening, in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii :—
Look! in this place ran Caffius' dagger through:-
See what a rent the envious Cafca made :-
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus ftabb'd;
And, as he pluck'd his curfed fteel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæfar follow'd it;
As rufhing out of doors, to be refolv'd
If Brutus to unkindly knock'd, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæfar's angel:
Judge, O you Gods, how dearly Cæfar lov'd him!
This was the most unkindeft cut of all:
For, when the noble Cafar faw him ftab,
Ingratitude, more ftrong than traitors arms,
Quite vanquish'd him: then burft his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the bafe of Pompey's ftatue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæfar fell.
O, what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilft bloody treason flourish'd over us.
O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you
The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind fouls! what, weep you when you but behold
Our Cæfar's vefture wounded? look you here!
Here is himself, marr'd, as you fee, with traitors.
1 Pleb. O piteous spectacle!

feel

2 Picb. We will be reveng'd; revenge; About-feck-burn-fire-kill-flay! let not a

traitor live.

Ant. Good friends, fwect friends, let me not

ftir you up To fuch a fudden flood of mutiny.

1 by that have done this deed are honourable; What private griefs they have, alas! I know not, 1. it made them do it; they are wife, and honourable,

Anu vill, no doubt, with reafons answer you.

But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That love my friend; and that they know full well
That give me public leave to speak of him.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, or utterance, nor the power of speech,
To ftir men's blood; I only fpeak right on;
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Shew you fweet Cæfar's wounds, poor, poor dumb
mouths!

And bid them fpeak for me: But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your fpirits, and put a tongue
In ev'ry wound of Cæfar, that should move
The ftones of Rome to rife and mutiny.
Ceremony infincere.

-Ever note, Lucilius,
When love begins to ficken and decay,
It ufeth an enforced ceremony.

There are no tricks in plain and fimple faith.
But hollow men, like horfes hot at hand,
Make gallant fhow and promife of their mettle;
But when they should endure the bloody fpur,
They fall their crefts, and, like deceitful jades,
Sink in the trial.

Brutus and Caffius.
Caf. That you have wrong'd me, doth appear

in this :

You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella,
For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letters praying on his fide,
Because I knew the man, were flighted of.
Bru. You wrong'd yourself, to write in fuch
a cafe.

Caf. In fuch a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence fhould bear his comment.
Bru. Let me tell you, Cathius, you yourself
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;
To fell and mart your offices for gold
To undefervers.

Caf. I an itching palm?

You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the Gods, this speech were else your latt. Bru. The name of Caffius honours this cor

ruption,

And chaftifement doth therefore hide his head. Caf. Chaftilement !

Bru. Remember March, the ides of March

remember!

Did not great Julius bleed for justice' fake ?
What villain touch'd his body, that did ftab,
And not for juftice? What! fhall one of us,
That ftruck the foremost man of all this world,
But for fupporting robbers; shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with bafe bribes?
And fell the mighty space of our large honours,
For fo much traih, as may be grasped thus ?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than fuch a Roman!

Caf. Brutus, bait not me,
I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in; I am a foldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

Era.

Bru. Go to; you are not, Caffius.
Caf. I am.

Bru. I fay, you are not.

Caf. Urge me no more, I fhall forget myself; Have mind upon your health-tempt me no farther. Bru. Away, flight man!

Caf. Is 't poffible?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

this?

Muft I give way and room to your rafh choler?
Shall I be frighted, when a madman ftares?
Caf. O ye Gods! ye Gods! muft I endure all
[heart break;
Bru. All this! ay, more: fret, till your proud
Go, fhew your flaves how choleric you are,
And make your bondmen tremble. Muft I budge?
Muft I obferve you? muft I ftand and crouch
Under your tefty humour? By the Gods,
You fhall digeft the venom of your fpleen,
Tho' it do fplit you: for, from this day forth,
I'll ufe you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are wafpith.

Caf. Is it come to this?

Bru. You fay you are a better foldier: Let it appear fo; make your vaunting true, And it fhall pleafe me well: for mine own part, I fhall be glad to learn of noble men.

Caf. You wrong me ev'ry way-you wrong me, I faid an elder foldier, not a better. [Brutus; Did I fay better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

[mov'd me.
Caf. When Cæfar liv'd, he durft not thus have
Bru. Peace, peace; you durft not fo have tempted
Caf. I durft not?
Bru. No.

Caf. What! durft not tempt him?
Bru. For your life you durft not.

[him.

Caf. Do not prefumie too much upon my love; I may do that I fhall be forry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be forry for. There is no terror, Caffius, in your threats; For I am arm'd fo ftrong in honesty, That they pafs by me as the idle wind Which I respect not. I did fend to you For certain fums of gold, which you denied me'; For I can raife no money by vile means: By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, By any indirection. I did fend To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: was that done like Caffius? Should I have anfwer'd Caius Callius fo? When Marcus Brutus grows fo covetous, To lock fuch rafcal counters from his friends, Be ready, Gods, with all your thunderbolts Dath him to pieces!

Caf. I denied you not. Bru. You did.

Caf. I did not :-he was but a fool That brought my anfwer back.-Brutus hath riv'd my heart:

A friend fhould bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Dra. I do not, till you prettife them on me.

Caf. Come, Antony, and youngOctavius, come, Revenge yourfelves alone on Caffius, For Caffius is a-weary of the world : Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother; Check'd like a bondman; all his faults of ferv'd, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote, To caft into my teeth. O, I could weep My fpirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger, And here my naked breast;-within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold: If that thou be'ft a Roman, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike, as thou didst at Cæfar: for, I know, When thou didst hate him worft, thou lov'dft him Than ever thou lov'dft Caffius. [better

Bru. Sheath your dagger;

Be angry when you will, it fhall have scope;
Do what you will, difhonour fhall be humour.
O Caffius, you are yoked with a lamb,
That carries anger as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, thews a hafty spark,
And ftraight is cold again.

Caf. Hath Caffius liv'd

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Caf. Do you confefs fo much? Give me your
hand.

Bru. And my heart too.
Caf. O Brutus!

Bru. What's the matter?

[Embracing.

Caf. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rath humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Caffius; and from henceforth, When you are over-earneft with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you fo.

Bru. O, Caffius, I am fick of many griefs. Caf. Of your philofophy you make no ufe, If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears forrow better:-Portia is Caf. Ha! Portia ? [dead.

Bru. She is dead.