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2 Pleb. They were villains, murderers; the Will! read the Will!

Ant. You will compel me then to read the Will? Then make a ring about the corps of Cafar, And let me fhew you him, that made the Will. Shall I defcend? and will you give me leave?

All. Come down..

2 Pleb. Defcend.

[He comes down from the pulpit.

3 Pheb. You fhall have leave.

4 Pleb. A ring; ftand round.

1 Pleb. Stand from the hearfe, ftand from the body. 2 Pleb. Room for Antony -moft noble Antony Ant. Nay, prefs not fo upon me, ftand far off. All. Stand back ➡room ➡

bear back

Ant. If you have tears, prepare to fhed them now. You all do know this mantle, I remember,

The first time ever Cafar put it on,

'Twas on a fummer's evening in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii

(22)

Look! in this place, ran Caffius' dagger through;
See, what a Rent the envious Cafca made.
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus ftabb'd;
And as he pluck'd his curfed fteel away,

(22) That day be overcame the Nervii.] This Circumftance about Cafar's Mantle, (which I prefume to be purely the Poet's Invention) abftracted from the Chronology, is very pretty. Perhaps, it has not fo much Propriety, as Beauty, if we confider one thing. The Nervii were conquer'd in the 2d Year of his Gaulish Expedition, 17 Years before his Affaffination, and 'tis hardly to be thought, that Cafar preferv'd one Robe of State for fo long a Period. Another Circumstance, pretty like This, we meet with in Hamlet; The Ghost of the Old King appearing, Horatio, in defcribing the Garb and Figure he had affum'd, fays;

very

Such the
was
Armour he had on,
When he th' ambitious Norway combated.

Now Horatio, being a School-fellow of young Hamlet, could hardly know in what Armour the Old King kill'd Fortinbras of Norway; which happen'd on the very day, whereon young Hamlet was born. Besides, in ftrictness, why fhould the Ghost of the Old King walk in Armour, who was murther'd in Time of Peace, fleeping in his Garden? But thefe Circumftances and Strokes of Fancy dress up an amufing Picture, for which the Poet, perhaps, is neither accountable to Propriety, nor Probability.

Mark,

Mark, how the blood of Cafar follow'd it!
As rufhing out of doors, to be refolv'd,
If Brutus fo unkindly knock'd, or no?
For Brutus, as you know, was Cafar's angel.
Judge, oh you Gods! how dearly Cæfar lov'd him;
This, this, was the unkindeft cut of all;
For when the noble Cæfar faw him ftab,
Ingratitude, more ftrong than traitors arms,

Quite vanquish'd him; then burft his mighty heart:
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,

Even at the Base of Pompey's ftatue,

(Which all the while ran blood,) great Cæsar fell.
O what a Fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down:
Whilft bloody treason flourish'd over us.
O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel
The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind fouls! what, weep you when you but behold
Our Cafar's vefture wounded? look you here!
Here is himself, marr'd, as you fee, by traitors.
1 Pleb. O piteous fpectacle!

z Pleb. O noble Cafar!

3 Pheb. O woful day!

4

Pleb. O traitors, villains!

Pleb. O moft bloody fight!

2 Pleb. We will be reveng'd: revenge: about

feek burn

traitor live.

fire

Ant. Stay, Countrymen

kill flay! let not a

1 Pleb. Peace there, hear the noble Antony.

2 Pleb. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him

Ant. Good friends, fweet friends, let me not stir

you up

To fuch a fudden flood of mutiny:

They, that have done this deed, are honourable.
What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it: they are wife and honourable;
And will, no doubt, with reafons answer you.
I come not, friends, to fteal away your hearts;

I am no Orator, as Brutus is:

But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That love my friend; and that they know full well,
That give me publick leave to speak of him:
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action nor utt'rance, nor the power of fpeech,
To ftir mens blood; I only fpeak right on.

I tell you that, which you your felves do know j
Shew you fweet Cafar's wounds, poor, poor, dumb

mouths!

And bid them fpeak for me. But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your Spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Cæfar, that fhould move
The ftones of Rome to rife and mutiny.
All. We'll mutiny

1 Pleb. We'll burn the house of Brutus.

3 Pleb. Away then, come, seek the confpirators. Ant. Yet hear me, Countrymen; yet hear me fpeak. All. Peace, ho, hear Antony, moft noble Antony. Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what. Wherein hath Cafar thus deferv'd your loves? Alas, you know not; I muft tell you then: You have forgot the Will, I told you of. All. Moft true-the Will

the Will.

let's ftay and hear

Ant. Here is the Will, and under Cæfar's feal. To ev'ry Roman citizen he gives,

To ev'ry fev'tal man, fev'nty five drachma's.

2 Pleb. Moft noble Cafar! we'll revenge his death. 3 Pleb. O royal Cæfar!

Ant. Hear me with patience.

All. Peace, ho!

Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbors, and new-planted orchards, On that fide Tiber; he hath left them you, (23)

And

(23) On this fide Tiber;] The Scene is here in the Forum near the Capitol, and in the most frequen ed Part of the City; but Gæsar's Gardens were very remote from that Quarter. N

VOL. VI.

Trans

And to your heirs for ever; common pleasures,
To walk abroad, and recreate your felves.
Here was a Cafar, when comes fuch another?

1 Pleb. Never, never; come, away, away; We'll burn his body in the holy place,

And with the brands fire all the traitors houses.
Take up the body.

2 Pleb. Go fetch fire.

3 Pleb. Pluck down benches.

4 Pleb. Pluck down forms, windows, any thing. [Exeunt Plebeians with the body. Ant. Now let it work; Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what courfe thou wilt! How now,

fellow?

Enter a Servant.

Ser. Octavius is already come to Rome.
Ant. Where is he?

Ser. He and Lepidus are at Cæfar's houfe.
Ant. And thither will I ftraight, to vifit him;
He comes upon a with. Fortune is merry,
And in this mood will give us any thing.
Ser. I heard him fay, Brutus and Caffius
Are rid, like madmen, through the gates of Rome.
Ant. Belike, they had fome notice of the people,
How I had mov'd them. Bring me to Octavius.

[Exeunt.

Enter Cinna the Poet, and after him the Plebeians. Cin. I dreamt to night, that I did feaft with Cæfar, And things unluckily charge my fantafie;

Trans Tiberim longè cubat is prope Cæfaris hortos. fays Horace: And both the Naumachia and Gardens of Cæfar were feparated from the main City by the River; and lay out wide, on a Line with Mount Janiculum; where Statius, the Poet, was buried. Our Author therefore certainly wrote;

On that fide Tiber;

And Plutarch, whom Shakespeare very diligently ftudied, in the Life of Marcus Brutus, fpeaking of Cafar's Will, exprefly fays, That he left to the Publick his Gardens and Walks beyond the Tiber; where, in that Author's Time, the Temple of Fortune flood.

I have no will to wander forth of doors:
Yet fomething leads me forth.

I Pleb. What is your name?
2 Pleb. Whither are you going?
3 Pleb. Where do you dwell?

t

4 Pleb. Are you a married man, or a batchelor? 2 Pleb. Anfwer every man directly.

I Pleb. Ay, and briefly.

4 Pleb. Ay, and wifely.

3 Pleb. Ay, and truly, you were beft.

Cin. What is my name? whither am I going? where do I dwell? am I a married man, or a batchelor? then to anfwer every man directly and briefly, wifely and truly; wifely, I fay I am a bat

chelor.

2 Pleb. That's as much as to fay, that marry; you'll bear me a bang for proceed directly.

they are fools

that, I fear ;

Cin. Directly, I am going to Cafar's funeral
I Pleb. As a friend, or an enemy?
Cin. As a friend.

2 Pleb. That matter is answered directly.
4 Pleb. For your dwelling; briefly.
Cin. Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.
3 Pleb. Your name, Sir, truly.

Cin. Truly, my name is Cinna.

1 Pleb. Tear him to pieces, he's a confpirator. Cin. I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet. 4 Pleb. Tear him for his bad verfes, tear him for his bad verfes.

Cin. I am not Cinna the confpirator.

4 Pleb. It is no matter, his name's Cinna; pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going. 3 Pleb. Tear him, tear him; come, brands, ho, fire

brands:

To Brutus, to Caffius, burn all. Some to Decius's house, And fome to Cafca's, fome to Ligarius: away, go.

[Exeunt

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