Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof, Both. 'Tis most nobly spoken. [The Senators descend, and open the Gates. Enter a Soldier. Sold. My noble general, Timon is dead, And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which Here lie I Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate: Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here thy gait." These well express in thee thy later spirits: Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, Hereafter more.—Bring me into your city, Make war breed peace; make peace stint war; make Alcib. [Reads.] "Here lies a wretched corse, of Prescribe to other, as each other's leech. [Exeunt. SCENE, during a great part of the Play, at Rome: afterwards at Sardis; and near Philippi. SCENE I.-Rome. A Street. ACT I. Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a body of Citizens. Flav. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home. Is this a holiday? What! know you not, Of your profession?-Speak, what trade art thou? Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. 2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What mean'st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow? 2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you. Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with all. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather have gone upon my handywork. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Flav. Go, go, good countrymen; and for this fault Casca. Bid every noise be still.-Peace yet again! [Music ceases. Cas. Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry, Cæsar! Speak: Cæsar is turn'd to hear. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. What man is that? Bru. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. Cæs. Set him before me; let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: look upon Cæsar. Cas. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. He is a dreamer; let us leave him.-Pass. Nor construe any farther my neglect, Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men. Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; And it is very much lamented, Brutus, Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear: That of yourself, which you yet know not of. [Flourish, and Shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the people Choose Cæsar for their king. Cas. I was born free as Cæsar, so were you; And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. I, as Æneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder A wretched creature, and must bend his body, Bru. [Shout. Flourish. Another general shout! I do believe that these applauses are Walk under his huge legs, and peep about Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; Than to repute himself a son of Rome What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. Bru. I will do so.-But, look you, Cassius; The angry spot doth glow on Cæsar's brow, And all the rest look like a chidden train. Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes, As we have seen him in the Capitol, Being cross'd in conference by some senators. Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is. Cæs. Antonius! Ant. Cæsar. Cæs. Let me have men about me that are fat; Cæs. 'Would he were fatter; but I fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid [Exeunt CESAR and his Train. CASCA stays behind. Casca. You pull'd me by the cloak: would you speak with me? Bru. Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanc'd to-day, That Cæsar looks so sad. Casca. Why you were with him, were you not? Bru. I should not, then, ask Casca what hath chanc'd. Casca. Why, there was a crown offered him: and, being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; and then the people fell a shouting. Bru. What was the second noise for? Casca. Why, for that too. Cas. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? Casca. Why, for that too. Bru. Was the crown offer'd him thrice? Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by mine honest neighbours shouted. Cas. Who offer'd him the crown? Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. Casca. I can as well be hanged, as tell the manner of it: it was mere foolery, I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown:-yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these 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 offered it to him again; then he put it by again, but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time: he put it the third time by; and still as he refused it, the rabblement shouted, and clapped their chapped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath, because Cæsar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; for he swooned, 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. Cas. But, soft, I pray you. What! did Cæsar swoon? Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless. Bru. 'Tis very like he hath the falling-sickness. Cas. No, Cæsar hath it not; but you, and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness. Casca. I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, Cæsar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleased, and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man. Bru. What said he, when he came unto himself? Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet, and offered 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 so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, if he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried, "Alas, good soul!"-and forgave him with all their hearts. But there's no heed to be taken of them: if Cæsar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. Bru. And after that he came thus sad away? Cas. Did Cicero say any thing? Casca. Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' the face again: but those that understood him smiled at one another, and shook their heads; but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news, too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Cæsar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well: there was more foolery yet, if I could remember it. Cas. Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? Cas. Will you dine with me to-morrow? Writings, all tending to the great opinion Casca. Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of earth Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? Casca. A common slave (you know him well by sight) Held up his left hand, which did flame, and burn Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand, Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. Besides, (I have not since put up my sword) Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glar'd upon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me: and there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, Transformed with their fear, who swore they saw Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets. And yesterday the bird of night did sit, Even at noon-day, upon the market-place, Hooting, and shrieking. When these prodigies Do so conjointly meet, let not men say, "These are their seasons,-they are natural;" For, I believe, they are portentous things Unto the climate that they point upon. Cic. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: Casca. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and But men may construe things after their fashion, Of any bold or noble enterprize, However he puts on this tardy form. Which gives men stomach to digest his words Bru. And so 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, Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Comes Cæsar to the Capitol to-morrow? Casca. He doth; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow. Cic. Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky Is not to walk in. Casca. Farewell, Cicero. Enter CASSIUS. [Exit CICERO. A Roman. Cas. Who's there? Casca. Cas. Casca, by your voice. Casca. Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this? Cas. A very pleasing night to honest men. Casca. Who ever knew the heavens menace so? Cas. Those that have known the earth so full of faults. For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, Submitting me unto the perilous night; And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, Have bar'd my bosom to the thunder-stone: And, when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open The breast of heaven, I did present myself Even in the aim and very flash of it. Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? It is the part of men to fear and tremble, |