Gaf. What, urge you your petitions in the streets ? Coine to the Capitol,

Pop. I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.
Caf. What enterprise, Popilius?
Pop. Fare you well.
Bru. Whac faid Popilius Læna?

Gas, He wilh'd to-day our enterprise might thrive.. 1 fear our purpose is discovered.

Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæfar ; mark him.

Caf. Calca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.
Brutus, what shall be done, if this be known?
Caffius, or Cæsar, never thall turn back;
For I will say myself.

Bru, Caffius, be constant.
Popilius Læna speaks not of our purpose;
For, look, he smiles, and Cæfar doth not change..

Caf Trebonius knows his time ; for look you; Brutus,', He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

Dec, Where is Metellus Cimber? let him go,
And presently prefer his fuit to Cæfar,

Bru. He is address’d; press near, and fecond him.
Gin. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand,

Cæf. Are we all ready? what is now amifs,
That Cæfar and his fenate mult redress?
Met. Most High, Most Mighry, and Moft Paiffane

1 æfar, Metellus Ciinber ebrows before thy feat. [Kneeling. An humble heart

Cæfi I must prevent thee, Cimber; These crouchings and these lowly curtesies, Might stir the blood of ordinary men, And turn pre-ordinance * and firit decree. Into the lane of children... Be not fond, To think that Cæfar bears such rebel blood, 7 hat will be thaw'd from the true quality With that which melteth fools ; I mean, fweet words, Low-crooked curt'Gies, and base fpaciel.fawaing, Thy brother by decree is banished ; If thou doft bend, and pray, and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. Know, Cæfar doth not wrong; nor without cause. : Will he be satisfied.

pre-ordinance, for ordinance already established,

Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, To found more sweetly in great Cæsar's ear, For the repealing of my banilh'd brother?

Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæsar ; Defiring thee, that Publius Cimber may Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

Cf. What, Brutus?

Cafi Pardon, Cæfar; Cæfar, pardon;
As low as to thy foot doth Caffius fall,
To beg infranchisement for Publius Cimber.

Gas I could be well mov'd, if I were as you ;
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me.
But I am constant as the northern star. *
Let me a little shew it, even in this;
That i was constant, Cimber thould be banilh'd ;
And constant do remain to keep him 10..

Gin. O Cæfarms
Caf. Heoce! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Dec. Great Cælar-
Cæs. Do not, Brutus, bootless kneel !
Casca. Speak hands for me. (They fiab Cæsar,
Cæs. Et tu, Brute? then fall, Cælar! [diese

Gin, Liberty! freedom! tyranny is dead
Rud hence, proclaim, cry it about the ftreets

Caf. Some to the comhion pulpits, and cry out, Liberty, freedom, and infranchisement.

Bru People, and Senators! be not affrighted;
Fly not, fand still. Ambition's debt is paid.

Caf. Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
Dec. And Caffius too,
Bru. Where's Publius?

northern star.
Of whose true, fix't, and reling quality,
There is no fe low in the timament.
The skies are painted with unnumber'd spark S,
They are all fire, and every one oth Shine ;
Bur there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So, in the world, 'tis furnish'd well with men,
And men are Aeth and blood, and apprehensive
Yet, in the number, I do know but one
That unassailable holds on bis rank,
Unshak'd of motion, and that I am he, .
Let me, ,

Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny,

Met. Stand fast together, left fome friends of Cæsar's
Should chance -

Bru. Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer
There is no harm intended to your person,
Nor to no Roman elfe; so tell them, Publius.

Caf. And leave us, Publius, lelt that the people-
Rushing on us, should do your age fome mischief.

Bru. Do so; and let no man abide this deed,
But we the duers.

SCENE II. Enter Trebonius.
Caf. Where is Antony?

Tre. Fled to his house amaz'd.
Men, wives, and children, stare, cry out, and run,
As it were doomsday.

Bru. Fates! we will know your pleasures :
That we shall die, we know ; 'tis but tbe time,
And drawing days out, that

men stand upon.
Caf. Wby, he that cuts off twenty years of life,
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

Bru, Grant that, and then is death a benefit ;
So are we Cæsar's friends, that have abridgd.
His time of fearing death.

Lafca Stoop, Romans, stoop;
And let us bathe our hands in Cæsar's blood
Up to the elbows, and besmear our fwords ;
Then walk we forth even to the market-place,
And waving our red weapons o'er our heads,

" Peace! freedom ! liberty.
Caf. Stoop then, and wash-How many ages hence

[Dipping their fwords in Cafar's blood.
Shall this our lofty scene be acted o’er,
In states unborn, and accents yet unknown?

Bru. How many times shall Cæsar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompey's basis lies along,
No worthier than the duit?

Caf: So oft as that shall be,
so often shall the knot of us be called
The men that gave their country liberty.

Dec. What, shall we forth!
Gas; Ay, every man away;

Let's all cry,

Brutus shall lead, and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest, and best hearts of Rome.

Enter a Servant,
Bru. Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony's.

Sar. Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel;
Tbus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; [Kneeling.
And being proftrate, thus he bad me say.
Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and hopelt;
Cæfar was mighty, royal, bold, and loving :
Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him ;
Say, I fear'd Cæsar, honour'd him, and lov'd him.
If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
May safely come to him, and be resolv'd
How Cæsar hath deserv'd to lie in death ;
Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar dead,
so well as Brutus living; but will follow
The fortunes and affairs of Noble Brutus,
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state,
With all true faith. So says my master Antony.

Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;
I never thought him worse.
Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
He shall be satisfied; and by my honour,
Depart untouch'a.

Ser. I'll fetch him presently. [Exit Servant,
Bru. I know that we shall have him well to friend.

Caf. I wish we may: but yet have I a mind
That fears him much; and my misgiving fill
Falls Ihrewdly to the purpose.
SCENE III.

Enter Antony.
Bru. But here comes Antong. Welcome, Mark

Antony. Ant. O mighty Cæfar! dost thou lie fo low? « Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, fpoils, • Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well, I know not, Gentlemen, what you intend ; Who else must be let blood, who else is rank, Ifl myself, there is no hour fo fit As Cæsar's death's hour; nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich

With the most noble blood of all this world, I do beseech ye, if ye bear me hard, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Fulfill your pleasure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find mytelf so apt to die. " No place will please me fo, no means of death, • As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off, “ The choice and master spirits of this age.

Bru, O Antony! beg not your death of us. Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As by our hands, and this our present ac, You see we do y yet see you but our hands, And this the bleeding business they have done. Our hearts you see not: they are pitiful ; And pity to the general wrong of Rome (As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity) Hath done this deed on Cæsar, For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony; Our arms exempt from malice; “ and our hearts, “ Of brothers' temper, do receive you

in With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.

Caf Your voice shall be as strong as any man's In the disposing of new dignities.

Bru. Only be patient, till we have appeas'd The multitude, beside themselves with fear'; And then we will deliver

you

the cause, Why I, that did love Cæsar when I ftrook him, Proceeded thus.

Ant. I doubt not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand. First, Marcus Brutus, will I snake with you; Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; Now, Decius Brutus, your’s ; now your's Metellus ; Your's, Cinna; and my valiant Casca, your's; Tho'last, not least in love, your's, good Trebonius, Gentlemen all -alas, what shall I say? My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward or a flatterer. That I did love thee, Cæsar, oh, 'tis true, if then thy fpirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death,