I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And show of love as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand.
Over your friend that loves you.

BRU.
Cassius,
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,
Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,

Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviours;
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
(Among which number, Cassius, be you one)
Nor construe any further 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;

By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
BRU. No, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection by some other things.

CAS. 'Tis just:

b

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,

That you

have no such mirrors as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
Except immortal Cæsar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

BRU. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself

For that which is not in me?

CAS. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar❜d to hear:

And, since you know you cannot see yourself

So well as by reflection, I, your glass,

Will modestly discover to yourself

That of yourself which you yet know not of.

And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laugher, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know

Merely-] Purely, solely, entirely.

b But by reflection by some other things.] Here, not improbably, the poet wrote,—

or,

"of some other things,"

"from some other things,"

the second "by" in the old text being an accidental repetition of the compositor. Were I a common laugher,-] Rowe's correction; the old copy having "Laughter" As Mr. Craik remarks, neither word seems to be quite satisfactory.

To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

[Flourish and shout.

BRU. What means this shouting? I do fear the people
Choose Cæsar for their king.

CAS.
Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.

BRU. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.—
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other,
And I will look on both indifferently:
For, let the gods so speed me as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.
CAS. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.-
I cannot tell what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
I had as lief not be as live to be

In awe of such a thing as I myself.

I was born free as Cæsar; so were you:
We both have fed as well; and we can both
Endure the winter's cold as well as he;
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
Cæsar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now,
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?-Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,

And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did.
The torrent roar'd; and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews; throwing it aside
And stemming it with hearts of controversy:
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæsar cried, Help me, Cassius, or I sink.

I, as Eneas, our great ancestor,

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder

The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber

Did I the tired Cæsar: and this man

Is now become a god; and Cassius is

A wretched creature, and must bend his body
If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.

He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And, when the fit was on him, I did mark

How he did shake: 't is true, this god did shake:
His coward lips did from their colour fly;
And that same eye whose bend doth awe tne world
Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan:

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
Alas! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius,
As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.

BRU. Another general shout!

I do believe that these applauses are

For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar.

[Flourish and shout.

CAS. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world

Like a Colossus; and we petty men

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about

To find ourselves dishonourable graves.

Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Brutus, and Caesar: what should be in that Cæsar?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat does this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd!
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
When went there by an age, since the great flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walks encompass'd but one man?
Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough
When there is in it but one only man.
O, you and I have heard our fathers say,

There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome,

As easily as a king!

BRU. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;

wide walks-] Modern editors nearly all adopt the emendation, wide walls, proposed by Rowe, but the original, "wide walks," i.e. "spacious bounds," ought not to be displaced.

"In the time of civill warres the souldiers of the Castell and chanons of Old Sarum fell at ods, insomuch that after other bralles they fell at last to sad blowes. It happened therefore in a rogation weeke that the clergie going in solemne procession a controversie fell betweene them about certeine walkes and limits which the one side claimed and the other denied. Such also was the hot entertainment on ech part, that at the last the Castellanes espieng their time, gate betweene the cleargie and the towne, and so cotled them as they returned homeward, that they feared anie more to gang about their bounds for a yeare."-HOLINSHED'S Description of Britaine, p. 57.

If the old text required further confirmation it would be supplied by the following couplet from Daniel's "Vanity of Fame:

"Is this the walke of all your wide renowne,

This little point, this scarce discerned ile?"

What you would work me to, I have some aim;
How I have thought of this, and of these times,
I shall recount hereafter; for this present,
I would not, so with love I might entreat you,
Be any further mov'd. What you have said,
I will consider; what you have to say,

I will with patience hear; and find a time
Both meet to hear and answer such high things.
Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this;
Brutus had rather be a villager,

Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under these hard conditions as this time
Is like to lay upon us.

CAS. I am glad that my weak words

Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.
BRU. The games are done, and Cæsar is returning.
CAS. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve;
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
What has proceeded worthy note to-day.

Re-enter CAESAR and his Train.

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.
CAS. Antonius,-

ANT. Cæsar.

CES. Let me have men about me that are fat;
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights:
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
ANT. Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous;
He is a noble Roman, and well given.

CAS. 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

So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;

He is a great observer, and he looks

Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,

As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music:

Let me have men about me that are fat; &c.] So in North's translation of Plutarch's Life of Julius Caesar:-"Cæsar also had Cassius in great jealousie, and suspected him much whereupon he said on a time to his friends, what wil Cassius do, thinke ye? I like not his pale lookes. Another time when Caesars friends complained unto him of Antonius and Dolabella, that they pretended some mischiefe towards him, he answered them again, As for those fat men and smooth combed heads, quoth he, I never reckon of them; but these pale visaged and carion leane people, I feare them most, meaning

Brutus and Cassius."

Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit
That could be mov'd to smile at any-thing.
Such men as he be never at heart's ease
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves;
And therefore are they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd
Than what I fear,-for always I am Cæsar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.

[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 had 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 offered 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 offered him the crown?

CASCA. Why, Antony.

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 't was not a crown neither, 't was 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 loth 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 nightcaps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Cæsar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; (2) 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.

a

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.

the rabblement shouted,-] This emendation is due to Hanmer, the first three

folios having howted, and the fourth houted.