Cap. Moft willing, Madam. Cath. In which I have commended to his goodness, To love her for her mother's fake, that lov'd him, A right good husband; let him be a noble; If Heaven had pleas'd to've given me longer life, These are the whole contents. And, good my Lord,, As you with Chriftian peace to fouls departed, Cap. By Heaven, I will; Or let me lofe the fafhion of a man! Cath. I thank you, honest Lord. Remember me In all humility unto his Highness; And tell him his long trouble now is paffing Out of this world. Tell him, in death I blefs'd him ;; N 6 I was I was a chafte wife to my grave; embalm me, I can no more Exeunt, leading Catharine. No. XVII.-JULIUS CAESAR. ACT II. SCENE I. BRUTUS alone. Boy! Lucius!--Fast afleep. It is no matter; Enjoy the honey heavy due of flumber. Enter Portia. For. Brutus, my Lord! Bru. Fortia, what mean you? Wherefore rife you now? It is not for your health, thus to commit Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. Por. Nor for your's neither. You've ungently, Brutus, Which feem'd too much inkindled; and, withal, Which fometimes hath his hour with every man. As As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all. To walk unbraced, and fuck up the humours Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por. I fhould not need, if you were gentle, Brutus. That appertain to you? Am I yourself But, as it were, in fort or limitation, To keep with you at meals, confort your bed, And talk to you fometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs your good pleasure? If it be no more, Of Then am I Brutus' harlot, not his wife. Bru. You are my true and honourable wife; As dear to me as are the ruddy drops That vifit my fad heart. Por. If this were true, then should I know this fecret.] I grant, I am a woman; but, withal, A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife; I grant, I grant, I am a woman, but, withal, Tell me your counfels, I will not disclose them: Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience, Bru. O ye Gods! Render me worthy of this noble wife. Hark, hark, one knocks! Portia, go in awhile; The fecrets of my heart. All my engagements I will construe to thee, [Knock. [Exit Portia. No. XVII.-JULIUS CESAR. ACT III. SCENE II. The Forum.. Enter Brutus, and mounts the Roftra;. Caffius with W the Plebeians. Plebeians. E will be fatisfied. Let us be fatisfied.. Bru. Then follow me, and give me audience, friends. Caffius, go you into the other freet, And part the numbers. Thofe that will hear me fpeak, let 'em ftay here ; Those that will follow Caffius, go with him; And public reasons shall be rendered. Of Cafar's death. 1 Pleb. I will hear Brutus speak.. 2 Pleb. I will hear Caffius, and compare their reasons, When feverally we hear them rendered. [Exit Caffius, with fome of the Plebeians.. 3 Pleb. The noble Brutus is afcended. Silence! Bru. Bru. Be patient till the last. Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers! hear me for my caufe; and be filent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe. Cenfure me in your wisdom, and awake your fenfes, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this affembly, any dear friend of Cæfar's, to him I fay, that Brutus's love to Cæfar was no less than his. If then that friend demand, why Brutus rose against Cafar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Cafar lefs, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cafar were living, and die all flaves, than that Cæfar were dead, to live all free men? As Cafar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but as he was ambitious, I flew him. There are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honour for his valour, and death for his ambition. Who is here fo base, that would be a bond-man ? Who is here fo rude, that would not be a Roman ? Who is here fo vile, that will not love his country? I paufe for a reply. All. None, Brutus, none. Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæfar, than you fhall do to Brutus. The queftion of his death is inroll'd in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. Enter Mark Antony with Cæfar's body. Here comes his body, mourn'd by Mark Antony, who, though he had no hand in his death, fhall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart, that, as I flew my beft lover for the good of Rome, I have the fame dagger for myfelf, when it shall please my country to need my death. All. Live, Brutus, live! live! 1 Pleb. Bring him with triumph home unto his house. 2 Pleb. Give him a ftatue with his ancestors. 3 Pleb. |