He should not humour me 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 thake him, or worfe days endure. [Exit. SCENE VI. Thunder and lightning. Enter Cafca, his fword drawn ; and Cicero, meeting him. Cic. Good even, Cafca; brought you Cæfar home? Why are you breathlefs, and why ftare you fo?A Cafea. Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero! I have feen tempefts, when the fcolding winds Gic. Why, faw you any thing more wonderful? Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glar'd upon me, and went furly by, Upon a heap a hundred ghaftly women, Transformed with their fear; who fwore they faw Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. And yesterday, the bird of night did fit, Ev'n at noon-day, upon the market-place, * To humour fignifics here to turn and wind him, by inflaming his paflions. Houting and fhrieking. When thefe prodigies Cic. Indeed it is a ftrange difpofed time: Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow. Cafca. Farewel, Cicero. SCENE VII. Caf. Who's there? Cafca. A Roman. Caf. Cafca, by your voice. [Exit Cicero. Enter Caffius. Cafea. Your ear is good. Caffius, what night is this? Caf. A very pleasant night to honest men. Cafca. Who ever knew the heaven's menace fe? And thus unbraced, Cafca, as you fee, Ev'n in the aim and very flath of it. Cafea. 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 allonifh us. Caf. You are dull, Cafca; and those sparks of life That should be in a Roman you do want, Or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze, VOL, VII. ; Why old men, fools, and children calculate To monstrous quality; why, you shall find, Now could I, Cafca, name to thee a man Moft like this dreadful night; that thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars A man no mightier than thyfelf, or me, Gafca. 'Tis Cæfar that you mean; is it not, Caffius? Cafea. Indeed they fay the fenators 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 most strong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat ; • Nor ftony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, ⚫ Nor airless dungeon, nor ftrong links of iron," • Never lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this; know all the world befides, Cafca. So can I: So every bondman in his own hand bears Caf. And why fhould Cæfar be a tyrant then ? Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, * Calculate here signifies to foretel ox propheft. But that he fees the Romans are but sheep; So vile a thing as Cæfar? But, oh, grief! Cafea. 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, Cafea, I have mov'd already 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. Cafca. Stand clofe a while, for here comes one in haftè. Caf. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gate; He is a friend. Cinna, where hafte you fo? Gin. To find out you: who's that, Metellus Cimber? To our attempts. Am I not staid for, Cinna? Cin. Yes, you are. O Caffius! could you win the Noble BrutusTo 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. Cin. 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. Cafea. O, he fits high in all the people's hearts: . And that which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchymy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness. Gaf. 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 sure of him. A C T [Exeunt. II. SCENE I. Bru. W Brutus's garden. Enter Brutus. Lucius! ho! Hatanot by the progrefs of the stars Give guess how near to day Lucius, I fay! I would it were my fault to fleep fo foundly. When, Lucius, when? awake, I fay! what, Lucius ? Enter Lucius. Luc. Call'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 ; |