Will bear no colour, for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would run to these, and these extremities:
And therefore think him as a ferpent's egg,

Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mifchie

vous;

And kill him in the fhell.

Enter Lucius.

Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, Sir:
Searching the window for a flint, I found
This paper, thus feal'd up; and, I am fure,
It did not lie there, when I went to bed.

[Gives him the letter.
Bru. Get you to bed again, it is not day:
Is not to morrow, boy, the Ides of March? (6)
Luc. I know not, Sir.

(6) Is not to morrow, boy, the firft of March ?] I dare pronounce a palpable Blunder here, which none of the Editors have ever been aware of. Brutus enquires whether the first of March be come, and the Boy brings him word 'tis wasted 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. I 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 easily be folv'd, by only supposing that the Word Ides in the Manuscript Copy happen'd to be wrote contractedly thus, j: 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 jít frequently food for firft; and blunderingly thought that js was meant to do fo too and thence was deriv'd 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 Cæfar 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 likewise started this very Emendation, and communicated it to Me by Letter.

Bru

Bru. Look in the kalendar, and bring me word.
Luc. I will, Sir.

Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air,
Give fo much light, that I may read by them.

[Exit.

[Opens the letter, and reads.

Brutus, thou fleep'ft; awake, and fee thy felf:
Speak, ftrike, redrefs.

Shall Rome,

Brutus, thou feep'ft: awake.

Such inftigations have been often dropt,
Where I have took them up:

Shall Rome

thus must I piece it out,

"Shall Rome ftand under one man's awe? what!

Rome?

"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

[Exit Lucius.

knocks: Since Caffius firft did whet me against Cæfar,

I have not flept.

Between the acting of a dreadful thing,
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantafma, or a hideous dream :
The Genius, and the mortal inftruments
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to a little Kingdom, fuffers then
The nature of an infurrection.

Enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Caffius at the door,

(7) Sir, March is wafted fifteen days.] The Editors are lightly mistaken: It was wasted but 14 Days; this was the Dawn of the 15th, when the Boŷ makes his Report.

Who

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'st thou to fhew thy dang'rous brow by night,

When Evils are most free? O then, by day

Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough,

To mask thy monftrous vifage? feek none, Confpiracy; Hide it in Smiles and Affability:

For if thou path, thy native femblance on,

Not Erebus itfelt 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 yourself,

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 interpofe themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

Caf. Shall I entreat a word?

[They whisper.

Dec. Here lies the Eaft: doth not the day break

here?

VOL. VII.

B

Casca

Cafca. No.

Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey lines, That fret the Clouds, are meffengers of day.

Caf. 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 South,
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 abufe-
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 thefe,
As I am fure they do, bear fire enough
To kindle cowards, and to fteel with valour
The melting spirits of women; then, countrymen,
What need we any fpur, but our own caufe,
To prick us to redress? what other bond,
Than fecret Romans, that have spoke the word,
And will not palter? and what other oath,
Than honefty to honefty engag'd,

That this fhall be, or we will fall for it?
Swear priefts, and cowards, and men cautelous,
Old feeble carrions, and fuch fuffering fouls
That welcome wrongs: unto bad caufes, fwear
Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain
The even virtue of our enterprize,

Nor th' infuppreffive mettle of our spirits;
To think, that or our caufe, or our performance,
Did need an oath: When ev'ry drop of blood,
That ev'ry Raman bears, and nobly bears,
Is guilty of a feveral baftardy,

If he doth break the fmallest particle
Of any promise that hath paft from him.

Caf. But what of Cicero? fhall we found him?

I think,

I think, he will ftand very ftrong with us.
Cafca. Let us not leave him out.
Cin. No, by no means.

Met. O let us have him, for his filver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion,

And buy men's voices to commend our deeds :
It fhall be faid, his Judgment rul'd our hands;
Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
But all be buried in his gravity.

Bru. O, name him not: let us not break with him g For he will never follow any thing, That other men begin.

Caf. Then leave him out.

Cafca. Indeed, he is not fit.

Dec. Shall no man elfe be touch'd, but only Cafar? Caf. Decius, well urg'd: I think, it is not meet, Mark Antony, fo well belov'd of Cefar

Should out-live Cafar: we fhall find of him

A threwd contriver. And you know, his means,
If he improve them, may well ftretch so far,
As to annoy us all; which to prevent,

Let Antony and Cafar fall together.

Bru. Our courfe will feem too bloody, Caius Caffius,
To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs ;
Like wrath in death, and envy afterwards:
For Antony is but a limb of Cefar.

Let us be facrificers, but not butchers, Caius ;
We all stand up against the spirit of Cefar,
And in the spirit of man there is no blood:
O, that we then could come by Cæfar's fpirit,
And not difmember Cæfar! but alas!
Cefar muft bleed for it-And, gentle friends,
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the Gods,
Not hew him as a carcafs fit for hounds.
And let our hearts, as fubtle masters do,
Stir their fervants to an act of rage,

up
And after feem to chide them. This fhall make
Our purpofe neceffary, and not envious:
Which, fo appearing to the common eyes,