A C T II. SCENE, BRUTUS's Garden. W Enter BRUTUS. BRUTUS. HAT, Lucius! ho! I cannot by the progress of the stars, Luc. Call'd you, my Lord? Bru. Get me a taper in my study, 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 personal cause to spurn at him ; But for the general. He would be crown'd How might that change his nature, there's the queftion. That at his will he may do danger with. Will Will bear no colour, for the thing he is, Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous; And kill him in the shell. Enter Lucius. Luc. The taper burneth in your clofet, Sir: [Gives him the letter. Bru. Look in the kalendar, and bring me word. [Exit. (6) Is not to-morrow, boy, the first of March? I dare pronounce a palpable Blunder here, which none of the Editors have ever been aware of. Brutus enquires whether the firft of March be come, and the Boy brings him word 'tis wafted 15 Days. Allowing Brutus to be a moft contemplative Man, and his Thoughts taken up with high Matters, yet I can never agree, that he fo little knew how Time went, as to be mistaken a whole Fortnight in the Reckoning. 1 make no Scruple to affert, the Poet wrote Ides. But how could Ides, may it not be objected, be corrupted into firft? What Similitude in the Traces of the Letters? This Difficulty may very eafily be folved, by only fuppofing that the Word Ides in the Manufcript Copy happened to be wrote contractedly thus, js: The Players knew the Word well enough in the Contraction; but when the MSS came to the Prefs, the Compofitors were not fo well informed in it: They knew, that jft frequently ftood for firft; and blunderingly thought that js was meant to do fo too: and thence was derived the Corruption of the Text. But that the Poet wrote Ides, we have this in Confirmation. Brutus makes the Enquiry on the Dawn of the very Day, in which Caefar was kill'd in the Capitol. Now 'tis very well known, that this was on the 15th Day, which is the Ides, of March. I ought to acknowledge, that my Friend Mr. Warburton likewife ftarted this very Emendation, and communicated it to me by Letter. Bru. Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air, Give fo much light, that I may read by them. [Opens the letter, and reads. Brutus, thou fleep'ft; awake, and fee thyself: Shall Rome, Brutus, thon fleep'ft: awake. Such inftigations have been often dropt, Shall Rome-thus muft I piece it out, "Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? what! Rome? σε My ancestors did from the streets of Rome "The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a King." Speak, frike, redress, am I entreated then To fpeak, and ftrike? O Rome! I make thee promise, If the redrefs will follow, thou receiv'ft Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus ! Enter Lucius. Luc. Sir, March is wafted fourteen days. (7) Knocks within. Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; fome body knocks; [Exit Lucius. Since Caffius first did whet me against Cæfar, I have not flept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing, Enter Lucius. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Caffius at the door, (7) Sir, March is wafted fifteen Days.] The Editors are flightly miftaken: It was wafted but 14 Days; this was the Dawn of the 15th, when the Boy makes his Report. Who Who doth defire to see you. Bru. Is he alone? Luc. No, Sir, there are more with him. Bru. Do you know them? Luc. No, Sir, their hats are pluckt about their ears, And half their faces buried in their cloaks ; That by no means I may difcover them By any mark of favour. Bru. Let them enter. They are the faction. O confpiracy! [Exit Lucius. Sham'ft thou to fhew thy dang'rous brow by night, Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough, To mask thy monftrous vifage? feek none, conspiracy; Hide it in fmiles and affability: For if thou path, thy native semblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention. Enter Caffius, Cafca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius. Caf. I think, we are too bold upon your reft; Good-morrow, Brutus, do we trouble you? Bru. I have been up this hour, awake all night. Know I these men, that come along with you? [Afide. Caf. Yes, every man of them; and no man here, But honours you: and every one doth wish, You had but that opinion of your felf, Which every noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius. Bru. He is welcome hither. Caf. This, Decius Brutus. Bru. He is welcome too. Caf. This, Cafca; this, Cinna; And this, Metellus Cimber. Bru. They are all welcome. What watchful cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your eyes and night? Caf. Shall I entreat a word? [They whisper. Cafca.. Dec. Here lies the Eaft: doth not the day break here? Cafca. No. Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey lines, That fret the clouds, are meffengers of day. Cafca. You shall confefs, that you are both deceiv'd: Here, as I point my fword, the Sun arifes, Which is a great way growing on the fouth, Weighing the youthful feafon of the year. Some two months hence, up higher toward the north He first prefents his fire; and the high eaft Stands, as the capitol, directly here. Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one. Caf. And let us fwear our refolution. Bru. No, not an oath: if that the face of men, The fufferance of our fouls, the time's abuse, If these be motives weak, break off betimes; And ev'ry man hence to his idle bed: So let high-fighted tyranny range on, 'Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, As I am fure they do, bear fire enough That this fhall be, or we will fall for it? Nor th' infuppreffive mettle of our spirits; To think, that or our caufe, or our performance, If he doth break the fmalleft particle Caf. But what of Cicero? fhall we found him? I think, |