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The ki'ng shall have my se'rvice; but my proayers/
For ev'er, and for e'ver, shall be yours.

Wol. Cro'mwell, I did not think to shed a te'ar/
In all my mi'series, but thou hast forc'ed me,
(Out of thy ho'nest-truth) to pla'y the woman —
Le't's dry our eʼyes; and th'us far/ he'ar me, Cro'mwell,
And when I am forg'otten, (as I shall-be,)
And sleep in d'ull/ coʻld ma’rble (where no mention
O'f me must more be he’ard,) say, then, I' taught thee
Say, Woolsey, that once trode the waves of glory,
And sounded all the depth's and sho'als of ho'nour,
Found the e-a-way (out of his wre'ck) to ris'e in;
(A sur'e and safe one, though thy moaster mis'sed it.)
Mark but my f'alls

, and thaot/ which rui'ned me:
Cro'mwell, I cha'rge thee, fling aw'ay ambi'tion;
By tha’t-sin/ fell the an‘gels ; how can maʼn-then
(Thou'gh the image of bis Ma ker) hoʻpe to w’in-by-it?
Love thys"elf/ las't; cherish those hea'rts/ that w'ait-thee;
(Corruption wins not more than ho'nesty.)
Štill in thy right ha'nd/ carry gentle pe’ace,
To silence e’nvious to'ngues. Be ju'st, and fe'ar not.
Let all the en'ds/ thou ai'm’st-at/ be thy Coun'try's,
Thy Go'd's, and Trouth’s; the'n) if thou fall'est, (O Croʻmwell!)
Thou fallest a bl’essed ma'rtyr ! Serve the Ki'ng-
And pri'thee, lead me in-
There take an in'ventory of all I ha've,
(To the last pe'nny, 'tis the Kiong's.) My rob'e,
And my in'tegrity to H'eaven, are all'
I dare no'w/ call my own. O Cro'mwell, Croomwell,
Had I but served my* Go'd/ with hal'f-the-zeal
I served my Kiềng, hoe would (not in minet a'ge)
Have left me na'ked/to mine e'nemies !

Crom. Goo'd Sir, have pa'tience.

Wol. So I hav'e. Farewe'll
The hopes of cour't! My hoʻpes in He’aven/ now dw'ell.

* For the sake of due solemnity, “my," before God, should be pronounced so as to rhyme with high.

† “ Mine.” In reading the Scriptures, we are at no loss about the pronunciation of this pronoun, as the dignity and solemnity of the composition invariably direct us to give the i its long sound, as in the substantive; but in Milton and Shakspeare, this pronunciation has an intolerable stiffness, and ought not to be used.



Cas. Will you go see the o‘rder of the coʻurse ?
Bru. Not I'.
Cas. I pr'ay-you d'o.

Bru. I am not gaʼmesome; I do lack some part
Of that quick spi'rit that is in A'ntony;
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
I'll leave

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of la'te ;
I have not from your e'yes that gʻentleness
And show of lo've/ as I was wont to h’ave,
You bear too stubborn

and too stra'nge a hand/ Over your fr'iend/ that lo'ves you.

Bru. Ca’ssius,
Be not decei'ved : I'f I have veiled my loʻok,
I turn the trouble of


cou'ntenance M'erely upon myse'lf. Vexed I am Of late with pa'ssions of some d'ifference, (Conceptions only proper to myself; Which give some soil perhaps to my beh'aviour;) But/ let not/ ther'efore/ my good friends be gr’ieved, (Among which number, Cassius, be yoou-one;) Nor construe any fa'rther my negl’ect, Than that

poor Bru'tus (with himself at w'ar) Forgets the shews of lo've/ to o`ther-men.

Čas. Then, Br’utus, I have much m'istook your pa'ssion ; By means where'of, this breast of mi'ne/ hath buried Thoʻughts of great value, woʻrthy cogitations. Tell me, good Bru'tus, can you see your face ?

Bru. No', Ca’ssius ; for the eye/ sees not its'elf,
But by refl'ection/ from some o‘ther-thing.

Cas. 'Tis ju'st.
And it is very much lame'nted, Br’utus,
That yoʻu/ have no such mirror/ as will tu’rn
Your hidden wo'rthiness/ into your ey'e,
That you might see your sha'dow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respe'ct of Ro'me,
(Except immortal Cæosar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's y'oke,


Have wis'hed that noble Br'utus/ h’ad his ey'es.
Bru. Into what dangers would


me, C'assius, That you

would have me seek into my self For th’at/ which is not in'-me ?

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear ; And/ since you kno'w/ you cannot see yourself So we'll as by refle'ction, I' (your glass) Will modestly disco'ver/ to your self Th'at of yourself/ which y'et/ you know not o'f. And be not jealous of m'e, (gentle Br’utus :) Were I a common laugher, or did use/ To stale/ with ordinary oa'ths/ my love/ To every new protes'tor; if

you That I do fa'wn on me'n, and hug them ha'rd, And a'fter scandal-them; or, if


know, That I profess myself in ba'nqueting To all the ro'ut; th'en hold me da'ngerous.

Bru. What means this sho'uting? I do fear the people Choose C'æsar/ for their king.

Cas. A'y, do you fé'ar it ?
Then must I think you would not have it s'o.

Bru. I would not, C'assius; yet I love him we'll.
But wherefore do you hold me here so lo'ng ?
What is it, that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general-g'ood,
Set Ho'nour in one ey'e, and Death/ in the oʻther ;
And I will look on De'ath/ indi'fferently:
Fo'r/ let the gods so sp'eed me, as I love
The na‘me of Honour/ more than I fear Death.
Cas. I know that virtue to be in

As we'll as I do kn'ow your oʻutward fa'vour.
W'ell, ho'nour is the s'ubject of my story. ---
I cannot tell what yoou and other men
Think of this l'ife ; b'ut/ for my single s'elf,
I had as lief no't be, as li've to b'e
In awe of such a thiủng as I my'self.
I was born free as Cæsar; so were yoʻu ;
We both have fed as well; and we can both
Endure the winter's co'ld/ as well as hoe.
For/ once upon a raw and gusty d'ay,
(The troubled Tyber chafing with his sh'ores,)
Cæsar sa'id to me, Darest thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with m'e/ into this




Pronounced with a mixture of dignity and sarcasm.

And swi'm/ to yonder point ?— Upon the word,
(Accoutred as I w'as) I plunged i'n,
Ànd bade him fo'llow; so indeed he did.
The torrent roa'red, and we did b'uffet it
With lusty si'news; throwing it a'side,
And ste'mming it/ with he'arts of co’ntroversy.
B’ut, er'e we could arrive the point prop'osed,
Cæsar cried, He'lp me, Ca’ssius, or I si’nk.
Then, as Æn'eas (our great a'ncestor)
Did from the flames of Tr'oy/ upon his shou'lder
The old Anchises b'ear; so from the wa'ves of Tyber
Did l the ti-red-Cæsar: and this man
Is now become a good; and Ca’ssius/ is
A wretched creature, and must bend his b'ody,
If Cæsar c'arelessly, but no'd on-him.
He had a f'ever/ when he was in Spa'in,
And/ when the lit was o'n-him, I did m’ark
How he did sha'ke. 'Tis true, this good di'd-sha'ke;
His coward l'ips/ did from their colour fl'y,
And that same e'ye (whose bend doth a'we the world,)
Did loʻse its lus'tre; I did hear him gro'an :
Ay and that tongue of hi's, that bade the R'omans
Ma'rk him, and write his speeches in their boʻoks,
Ala's! it cr'ied - Give me some drink, Tit’inius-
As a sick gi'rl! Ye gʻods, it doth ama'ze me,
A man of such a fee'ble te'mper/ shou'ld/
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the pa'lm alo'ne!

Bru. Ano'ther general sh'out!
I do believe, that these applau'ses/ are
For some n`ew-honours that are h'eaped) on Cæ'sar.

Cas. Why ma'n, he doth bestride the narrow world
L'ike a Colo'ssus/; and we petty m'en
Walk under his huge legs, and peep ab'out
To find ourselves dishonourable gra'ves.
Men at sometime/ are ma'sters of their f'ate:
The fa'ult (dear Bru’tus) is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Br’utus -and Cæ'sar - what should be in-that-Cæsar ?
Why should thoat-name be sounded, more than yo'ur's?
Wri te them together; yours is as fa'ir a n'ame :
Sou'nd them, it doth become the mo'uth as w'ell;
We'igh them, it is as he’avy; co'njure with them,

Spoken contemplatively,

but earnestly.

Brutus/ will start a spirit/ as soon as C'æsar.
N'ow, in the name of all the go'ds at on'ce,
Upon what meats/ doth this our Cæsar fe’ed,
That he is gr'own so gre'at ? A'ge, thou art sha'med;
R'ome, thou hast lost thy breed of noble bloods.
When could they s'ay, till no'w, that talked of Ro'me,
That her wide walls encompassed but oone-man?

and I have heard our fathers sa'y,
There was a Brutus o'nce that would have brooked
A whip-galled slave to keep his state in Rome
As easily as a king.

Bru. That you do l'ove me, I am nothing jea'lous ;


would wo'rk me to', I bave some a'im:
How I have thought of th'is, and of these tismes,
I shall recount herea'fter : for this present,
I would not (so with love I might intr'eat-you)
Be any further-moved. What you have s'aid,
I will consi'der: what you ha've to s'ay,
I will/ with patience he'ar; and find a ti me
Both 'me'et to he’ar, and a'nswer such high thi'ngs.
'Till th'en (my noble fr'iend) chew upon thi's:
Brutus had rather be a villager,
Than to repute himself a so'n of Ro'me,
Under such hard conditions/ as this time
Is l'ike to la'y upon us.


It m'ust be by his dea'th : and, for my' part,
I know no personal cause/ to sp’urn at him;
But, for the general. He would be crowned
How that might change his na'ture, there's' the question.
It is the bright da'y/ that brings the adder foʻrth ;
And th’at/ craves waîry walking : croșwn him !-tha't !
And theʼn, I gra'nt, we put a sti'ng in him,
Tha't/ at his will, he may do dan ger with.
The abus'e of greatness is, when it disjoins
Remo'rse from po'wer : and, to speak truth of Cæ'sar,

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