No more infected with my country's love,
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage, led your wars, even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought
home,

Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates,

Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver,
Subscrib'd by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o' the senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf.
Read it not, noble lords;
But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor. Traitor!-How now?-

Auf.
Cor.

Ay, traitor, Marcius.

Marcius L

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou
think

I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli ?-

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome
(I say, your city) to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
Council o' the war; but, at his nurse's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.

Cor.
Hear'st thou, Mars?
Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,—
Cor.
Ha!

Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli:
Alone I did it.-Boy!

Auf.

Why, noble lords,
Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart,
'Fore your own eyes and ears?

Con. Let him die for 't. [Several speak at once. Cit. [Speaking promiscuously.] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He killed my son;-my daughter;-He killed my cousin Marcus;-He killed my father.

2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage;-peace.
The man is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o' the earth. His last offence to us
Shall have judicious hearing.-Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.

Cor.
O, that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!

Auf.

Insolent villain!

Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.
[AUF. and the Con. draw, and kill COR., who
falls, and Aur. stands on him.
Lords.
Hold, hold, hold, hold.
Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak.
1 Lord.
O Tullus!-
2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour
will weep.
[quiet;

3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be Put up your swords.

[rage,

Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this
Provok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.

1 Lord.

Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
As the most noble corse that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.
2 Lord..
His own impatience
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.
Auf.
My rage is gone,
And I am struck with sorrow.-Take him up :-
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.-
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes.-Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.-
Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the Body of CORIO-
LANUS.-A dead March sounded.

INTRODUCTION TO JULIUS CAESAR.

"Or this tragedy (says Dr. Johnson), many particular passages deserve regard, and the contention and reconcilement of Brutus and Cassius is universally celebrated; but I never have been strongly agitated in perusing it, and think it somewhat cold and unaffecting, compared with some other of Shakespeare's plays; his adherence to the real story, and to Roman manners, seems to have impeded the natural vigour of his genius." Malone believed this piece to have been produced A.D. 1607.

THE PLOT.-The scene opens in Rome, with Cæsar's return from the conquest of his enemies; he is welcomed with demonstrations of joy by the adoring multitude, but envied by some noble Romans, who view with indignation his overruling popularity. Of these Cassius is the first

to unbosom his thoughts, which he does to Brutus and others. A party having been assembled, favourable to their cause, they appoint the morrow for putting their plans into execution, when Casar is expected to go to the Capitol, with intention to receive the imperial crown. On the night preceding, many prodigies appear, which seem to forbode some impending destruction, and which Calphurnia, Cæsar's wife, makes use of to divert him from his proposed visit to the Capitol. By the management of Decius, however (one of the conspirators), he determines upon going, and, on his way, is warned by a Soothsayer of his danger. The refusal of the remission of a sentence, which Cæsar had

* Judicial.

passed upon Publius Cimber, the brother of one | by swallowing fire. Learning that Antony and of the party, is the signal for his death. Casca, Octavius are advancing towards Philippi, it is leading the way, first stabs him, Brutus giving determined to meet them there. The battle of the last blow, and Cæsar falls at the foot of Pom- Philippi ensues (the night previous to which pey's statue. The senators and people retire in the ghost of Cæsar appears to Brutus in his confusion; but Brutus follows, and by a speech, tent). In the engagement, the wing of the in which he assures them that Caesar's ambition army commanded by Cassius is routed by Anand the good of the state required the step he tony, whilst Brutus defeats Octavius. Cassius, had taken, the populace are content; but An- ignorant of the success of his confederate, in tony (Cæsar's friend), obtaining leave to address despair kills himself. Brutus, then overborne, them, he so speaks as not to appear the enemy rather than fall into the hands of the Romans, of Brutus and his associates, but, at the same and having in vain entreated some of his coadtime, by reading Caesar's will, wherein they jutors to end his life, falls, at last, upon his own were made his inheritors, and enumerating his sword. Antony and Octavius, viewing him good qualities, he so ingratiates himself as to dead, confess his worth, and decree him an awaken in them an eager desire to revenge honourable burial. Cæsar's death. Brutus and Cassius, on hearing this, fly from Rome. The young Octavius, nephew of Julius Caesar, with Lepidus, arrive at Antony's house. These Triumvirs, having first, by proscription, put to death about a hundred Senators, prepare to meet Brutus and Cassius, who, having levied forces on their way, are encamped near Sardis. Here a quarrel happens between them, but they are quickly reconciled; here, too, news is brought to Brutus of the death of his wife, Portia, who had killed herself

JULIUS CAESAR.

OCTAVIUS CÆSAR,

MARCUS ANTONIUS,

MORAL.-Shakespeare has, in this tragedy, finely depicted the weaknesses which govern the passions of both rich and poor, learned and unlearned, and has shown us the instability of usurped power. In the fall of Cæsar, we are taught to limit our ambition, and not to create enemies by aiming at others' rights: and in that of Brutus and his party, how little we ought to rely on popular support, or suffer envy to mislead us: we cannot but lament Cæsar's end, yet we are forced to pity that of Brutus.

Julius Cæsar.

Persons Represented.

Triumvirs after the

M. EMILIUS LEPIDUS, death of Julius Cæsar.

CICERO, PUBLIUS, POPILIUS LENA, Senators.

MARCUS BRUtus,

CASSIUS,

CASCA,

TREBONIUS,

LIGARIUS,

DECIUS BRUtus,

METELLUS CIMBER,

CINNA,

FLAVIUS and MARULLUS, Tribunes.
ARTEMIDORUS, a Sophist of Cnidos.
A Soothsayer.

CINNA, a Poet. Another Poet.

LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, Young CATO, and
VOLUMNIUS, Friends to Brutus and Cassius.
VARRO, CLAUDIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, LUCIUS,
DARDANIUS, Servants to Brutus.

Conspirators against Julius PINDARUS, Servant to Cassius.

Cæsar.

CALPHURNIA, Wife to Cæsar
PORTIA, Wife to Brutus.

Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c.

SCENE.-During a great part of the Play, at Rome; afterwards at Sardis; and near Philippi.

Act First.

SCENE 1.-Rome. A Street.
Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a Rabble of
Citizens.

Flav. HENCE; home, you idle creatures, get
you home;

Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk,
Upon a labouring day, without the sign [thou?
Of your profession?-Speak, what trade art
1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter.
[rule?
Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?--
You, sir; what trade are you?

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. [knave, what trade? Mar. What trade, thou knave; thou naughty

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest 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 woman's matters, but with awl. 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 handy-work.

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop today? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest
brings he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace în captive bonds his chariot wheels?

You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless | I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, things!

O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone;

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude. [fault,
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;*
Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt Citizens.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I: Disrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
Mar. May we do so?

You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Cæsar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar's
wing,

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch;
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A public Place.

Enter, in Procession, with Music, CESAR; AN-
TONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA,
DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA,
a great Crowd following; among them a
Soothsayer.

Cæs. Calphurnia,—
Casca.

Cæs.

Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks.
[Music ceases.
Calphurnia,

Cal. Here, my lord.
Cas. Stand you directly in Antonius' way
When he doth run his course.+-Antonius.
Ant. Cæsar, my lord.

Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their steril curse.

Ant.
I shall remember:
When Cæsar says, "Do this," it is perform'd.
Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

Sooth. Cæsar.

[Music. Cæs. Ha! who calls? [again. Casca. Bid every noise be still-Peace yet [Music ceases. Cæs. Who is it in the press, that calls on me? * Rank.

+A ceremony observed at the feast of Lupercalia. + Crowd.

Cry, Cæsar: Speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear.
Sooth. Beware the ides of March.
Cæs.
What man is that? [of March.
Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides
Cas. Set him before me, let me see his face.
Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look
upon Cæsar.
[again.
Caes. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once
Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

Cæs. He is a dreamer; let us leave him;-pass.
[Sennet. Exeunt all but BRU. and CAS.
Cas. Will you go see the order of the course?
Bru. Not I.

Cas. I pray you, do.

Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires.
I'll leave you.

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
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; ||
[buried
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath
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:

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?

[hear:

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to
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 of 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
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or if you know
That I profess myself in banquetting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish, and Shouts.
Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear,
Choose Cæsar for their king.
[the people

Flourish of instruments.
The nature of your feelings.
Make common.