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 second noise for?

Cafca. Why, for that too.

Caf. They fhouted thrice: what was the laft cry for? Cafca. 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?
Cafca. Why, Antony.

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 thefe 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 loth to lay his fingers off it. And then he offer'd it the third time; he put it the third time by; and still as he refus❜d it, the rabblement houted, and clap'd their chopt hands, and threw up their fweaty night-caps, and utter'd fuch a deal of ftinking breath, because Cafar refus'd the crown, that it had almost choaked Cæfar; for he fwooned, and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, and receiving the bad air.

Caf. But, foft, I pray you; what, did Cæfar fwoon? Cafca. He fell down in the market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was fpeechless.

Bru. 'Tis very like; he hath the falling Sickness. Caf. No, Cæfar hath it not; but you and I, And honeft Cafca, we have the falling-sickness.

Cafca.

Cafea. I know not what you mean by that; but, I am fure, Cæfar fell down: If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hifs him, according as he pleas'd, and difpleas'd them, as they used to do the Players in the Theatre, I am no true man.

Bru. What faid he, when he came unto himself? Cafca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refus'd the Crown, he pluckt me ope his doublet, and offer'd them his throat to cut: An' I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues; and fo he fell. When he came to himself again, he faid, "If he had done, or faid any thing amifs, he de"fir'd their Worships to think it was his infirmity." Three or four wenches where I ftood, cry'd, "alas,

good foul!" and forgave him with all their hearts: but there's no heed to be taken of them; if Cæfar had stabb'd their mothers, they would have done no lefs.

Bru. And after that, he came, thus fad, away?
Cafca. Ay.

Caf. Did Cicero fay any thing?
Cafca. Ay, he fpoke Greek.
Caf. To what effect ?

Cafca. Nay, an' I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you ì' th' face again. But thofe, that understood him, fmil'd at one another, and fhook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling fcarfs off Cafar's Images, are put to filence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it. Caf. Will you fup with me to night, Cafca? Cafca. No, I am promis'd forth.

Caf. Will you dine with me to morrow? Cafca. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner be worth the eating.

Caf

Caf. Good, I will expect you.
Cafca. Do fo: farewel Both.

[Exit.

Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be?

He was quick mettle, when he went to school.
Caf. So is he now, in execution

Of any bold or noble enterprize,
However he puts on this tardy form:
This rudeness is a fauce to his good wit,
Which gives men ftomach to digeft his words
With better appetite.

Bru. And fo it is: for this time I will leave you.
To morrow, if you please to speak with me,
I will come home to you; or, if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for you.
Caf, I will do fo; till then, think of the world.
[Exit Brutus.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,
Thy honourable Metal may be wrought
From what it is difpos'd; therefore 'tis meet,
That noble minds keep ever with their likes:
For who fo firm, that cannot be feduc'd?

Cæfar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus.
? If I were Brutus now, and he were Caffius,
He should not humour me.I will, this night,
In several hands, in at his windows throw,
As if they came from several citizens,
Writings, all tending to the great opinion
That Rome holds of his name: Wherein obfcurely
Cafar's ambition shall be glanced at.

7 If I were Brutus now, and he were Caffius,

He should not humour me. -] This is a reflexion on Brutus's ingratitude; which concludes, as is ufual on fuch occafions, in an encomium on his own better conditions. If I were Brutus, (fays he) and Brutus, Caffius, he should not cajole me as I do him. To humour fignifies here to turn and wind him, by inflaming his paffions. The Oxford Editor alters the laft line to Cæfar fhould not love me.

What he means by it, is not worth inquiring.

And,

And, after this, let Cæfar feat him fure;

For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit.

Thunder and lightning. Enter Casca, bis fword drawn and Cicero, meeting him.

Cic. Good even, Cafca; 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 seen tempefts, when the fcolding winds
Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen
Th' ambitious ocean fwell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threatning clouds:
But never till to night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempeft dropping fire.
Either there is a civil ftrife in heav'n;
Or else the world, too faucy with the Gods,
Incenses them to fend deftruction.

Cic. Why, faw you any thing more wonderful? Cafca. A common flave, you know him well by fight,

Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn,
Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand,
Not fenfible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.
Befides, (I ha' not fince put up my fword)

Against the Capitol I met a lion,

Who glar'd upon me, and went furly by,

Without annoying me. And there were drawn

Upon a heap a hundred ghaftly women,

Transformed with their fear; who swore, they faw
Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets,
And yesterday, the bird of night did sit,
Ev'n at noon-day, upon the market-place,
Houting and shrieking. When these Prodigies
VOL. VII.

C

De

Do fo conjointly meet, let not men fay,
"These are their reasons, they are natural : "
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the Climate, that they point upon.

Cic. Indeed, it is a ftrange-difpofed time:
But men may conftrue things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves,
Comes Cæfar to the Capitol to morrow?

Cafca. He doth: for he did bid Antonius
Send word to you, he would be there to morrow.
Cic. Good night then, Cafca; this difturbed sky
Is not to walk in.

Cafca. Farewel, Cicero.

S CE

CENE

Enter Caffius.

Caf. Who's there?

Cafca. A Roman.

Caf. Cafca, by your voice.

[Exit Cicero.

VII.

Cafca. Your ear is good. Caffius, what night is this?
Caf. A very pleafing night to honeft men.

Cafca. Who ever knew the heaven's menace fo?
Caf. Those, that have known the earth fo full of
faults.

For 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 cross blue lightning feem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present my felf

Ev'n in the aim and very flath of it.

Cafca. But wherefore did you fo much tempt theheav'ns?

It is the part of men to fear and tremble,

When the most mighty Gods, by tokens, fend
Such dreadful heralds to aftonish_us.

Caf.