--I will this night, In feveral hands, in at his windows throw, As if they came from feveral citizens, Writings, all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his name; wherein, obfcurely, Cæfar's ambition fhall be glanced at. And, after this, let Cæfar feat him fure; For we will shake him, or worfe days endure. [Exit. Thunder and lightning. Enter Casca, his fword drawn ; and Cicero, meeting him. Cic. Good even, Casca; brought you Cæfar home? Why are you breathlefs, and why ftare you fo? Cafca. Are not you mov'd, when all the fway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero! I have feen tempefts, when the fcolding winds Cic. Why, faw you any thing more wonderful? Who glar'd upon me, and went furly by, And there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghaftly women, Transformed with their fear; who fwore they faw And yesterday, the bird of night did fit, To humour fignifics here to turn and wind him, by inflaming bis paffions. Houting and fhrieking. When these prodigies Cic. Indeed it is a strange difpofed time: Cafca. Farewel, Cicero. SCENE VIL. Caf. Who's there? Cafca. A Roman: Caf. Cafea, by your voice. [Exit Cicero. Enter Caffius. Cafea. Your ear is good. Caffius, what night is this? Cafca. Who ever knew the heaven's menace fo? Caf. Thofe that have known the earth fo full of faults, Fot my part, I have walk'd about the streets, Submitting me unto the perillous night; And thus unbraced, Cafca, as you fee, Have bar'd my bofom to the thunder-ftone: And when the crofs blue lightning feem'd to open Ev'n in the aim and very flash of it. Cafca. But wherefore did you fo much tempt the It is the part of men to fear and tremble, [heanv's ? When the most mighty gods, by tokens, fend Such dreadful heralds to altonifh us. Caf. You are dull, Cafca; and thofe fparks of life That fhould be in a Roman you do want, Or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze, B ; Why old men, fools, and children calculate * To monftrous quality; why, you fhall find, Now could I, Cafca, name to thee a man Moft like this dreadful night; that thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars As doth the lion in the Capitol; . A man no mightier than thyself, or me, In personal action; yet prodigious grown, Cafca. 'Tis Cæfar that you mean; is it not, Caffius ? Cafca. Indeed they say the senators to-morrow And he fhall wear his crown by sea and land, Caf. I know where I will wear this dagger then. • Caffius from bondage will deliver Caffius. Therein, ye gods, you make the weak moft ftrong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat; Nor ftony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor ftrong links of iron, • Can be retentive to the ftrength of spirit: But life, being weary of these worldly bars, • Never lacks power to difmifs itself. If I know this; know all the world befides, • That part of tyranny that I do bear, I can fhake off at pleasure.. Casca, So can I: So every bondman in his own hand bears Caf. And why should Cæfar be a tyrant then? Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, * Calculate here fignifies to foretel or prophest. But that he fees the Romans are but sheep; So vile a thing as Cæfar? But, oh, grief! Cafca. You fpeak to Cafca, and to fuch a man, And I will fet this foot of mine as far, Caf. There's a bargain made. Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already Of honourable dang'rous confequence; In Pompey's porch. For now, this fearful night, And the complexion of the elements Is fev'rous, like the work we have in hand; Enter Cinna. Cafea. Stand clofe a white, for here comes one in hafte. Caf. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gate; He is a friend. Cinna, where hafte you fo? Cin. To find out you: who's that, Metellus Cimber? Caf. No, it is Cafca, one incorporate To our attempts. Am I not ftaid for, Cinna? Cin. I'm glad on't. What a fearful night is this? There's two or three of us have feen ftrange fights. Caf. Am I not ftaid for? tell me. Gin. Yes, you are. O Caffius! could you win the Noble Brutus To our party Caf. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper; And look you lay it in the Prætor's chair, Repair to Pompey's porch, where you fhall find us. Gin. All but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone [Exit Cinna. Come, Cafca, you and I will yet, ere day, Upon the next encounter yields him ours. Cafca. O, he fits high in all the people's hearts : Will change to virtue and to worthiness. Caf. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him, You have right well conceited; let us go, For it is after midnight; and ere day We will awake him, and be fure of him. [Exeunt. A CT H. SCENE I. Bru. Brutus's garden. Enter Brutus, Hat, Lucius! ho! I cannot by the progrefs of the ftars. Give guess how near to day I would it were my fault to fleep fo foundly. When, Lucius, when? awake, I fay! what, Lucius? Enter Lucius. Luc. Cali'd you, my Lord? Bru. Get me a taper in my ftudy, Lucius : When it is lighted, come and call me here. Luc. I will, my Lord. [Exit.' Bru. It must be by his death: and, for my part, I know no perfonal caufe to fpurn at him ; |