THE tragedy OF JULIUS CAESAR.  
By William Alexander, Gentleman of the PRINCE's privy Chamber.  Carmine dij superi placantur, carmine manes. 
LONDON Printed by VALENTINE SIMMES for Ed. BLOUNT. 1607.   

The Argument.  
AT that time when the Romans traveled with an unsatiable ambition to subdue all Nations, by whose overthrow they could conceive any expectation, either of glory, or profit: Caius julius Caesar, a man of a lofty mind, and given to attempt great things, ascending by several degrees to the Consulship, procured a power to war against the Gaules: amongst whom, after a number of admirable battles and victories (by the approbation of all the world; having purchased a singular reputation, both for his courage and skill in Arms) he being long accustomed to command, was so drunken with a delight of sovereignty, that disdaining the simplicity of a private life, he was so far from denuding himself of the authority that he had, that altogether transported with a desire of more; he sent to the Senate, to have his government of the Gaules, prorogated for five years which suit being repugnant to the Laws, (as directly tending to tyranny) was by the people publicly repelled. By which occasion, and some others, rising from an emulation between him and Pompey the great, pretending a high indignation, he incontinent crossed the Alps, with such forces (though few) as he had in readiness, and with a great celerity came to Rome, which he found abandoned by Pompey, in whom the Senate had reposed their trust, whom shortly after, by a memorable battle in the fields of Pharsalia he discomfited: and having by the overthrow of Scipio, death of Cato, and flight of Pompey's sons, as it were, rooted out all the contrary faction, he returned to Rome, and indirectly by the means of Antonius, laboured to be proclaimed king: which having rendered him altogether odious; Caius Cassius, Marcus Brutus, Decius Brutus, Publius Casca, and divers others (Noble men) conspired his death, and appointed a day for the same: at which time, notwithstanding that Caesar was dissuaded from going forth, by many monstrous apparitions, and ominous presages; yet being persuaded by Decius Brutus Albinus, he went towards the fatal place, where the Senate was assembled.  
The Conspirators in like manner, had many terrors amongst others, Portia the wife of Marcus, Brutus, although she had insinuated herself in her husbands secret, by a notable proof of extraordinary magnanimity, yet on the day dedicated for the execution of their design, through the apprehension of his danger she fainted divers times, whereof Brutus was advertised, yet shrinked not, but went forward with his confederates to the appointed place, where they accomplished their purpose, every one of them giving Caesar a wound, and me a ground whereupon to build this present Tragedy.   

The Actors Names.  

JUNO.  
CAESAR.  
ANTONIUS.  
CICERO.  
DECIUS BRUTUS.  
CAIUS CASSIUS.  
MARCUS BRUTUS.  
PORTIA.  
CALPHURNIA.  
NVNTIVS.    

THE Tragedy of Caesar.  

ACT. I.  juno. 

THough I a goddess glance through th'azure round,  
Whilst the eye-feathered birds my coach do move:  
And am with radiant stars heavens Empress crowned,  
The sister, and the wife of thundering jove.   

And though I banquet in th'etherial bowers,  
Where ambrosia and Nectar serves for meat:  
And at the meeting of th'immortal powers,  
Am still advanced unto the highest seat:   

Yet by those glorious shows of boundless bliss,  
My martred mind can no way be relieved,  
Since immortality affords but this,  
That I may ever live being ever grieved.   

In vain, vain mortals seek for help at me,  
With Sacred odours on my Altars thrown:  
What expectation can they have to see,  
One venge their wrongs, that cannot venge her own?   

Might Pallas once drown thousands in the seas.  
And metamorphose Diomedes mates?  
And must mine enemies always live in ease,  
As me to spite, appointed by the fates?   

Of all the dying race that lives below,  
With such indignities none could comport,  
As wound my breast, whom gods and men do know  
To be abused by jove in many a sort.   

Though known to me, from others if concealed,  
His faults might breed me grief, but yet not shame:  
Where lo, now both through heaven & earth revealed,  
Each slanderous Theater doth his scorn proclaim.   

If heavenly souls divinely lived aloft,  
Th'inferior world would imitate them then:  
But humanized by haunting mortals oft,  
Where men should grow like gods, gods grow like men.   

My painted Iris in her beauty's pride,  
Smiles not on Phoebus with so many hues:  
As jove in divers shapes himself can hide,  
When he poor maids by Cupid spurred pursues.   

He Danae in a golden shower deceived,  
And did a Swan in Leda's bosom light,  
Then being a Bull Agenor's daughter reaved,  
And Iö made a Cow to mock my sight.   

But would to god that with such wanton dames,  
He still to sport would as with me remain,  
Not able then t'embrace celestial flames,  
All like the Drunkard's mother might be slain.   

Then such a troop as Rhea's bosom stores,  
Would not hold him and me at endless jars:  
The heavens are pestered with my husband's whores,  
Whose lights impure, do taint the purest stars.   

All injuries are heavy to digest,  
Yet th'actors greatness doth some grief remove:  
Of whom to suffer wrong it shames one least;  
If I were wronged, I would be wronged by jove.   

But (ah) this long hath tyrannized my breast,  
A man, a boy, a shepherd, yea and worse,  
The Phrygian firebrand, the adulterous guest,  
That first wrought wrong by fraud and then by force.   

He, he, was he whose verdict moved me most,  
Whilst it on Ida wronged my beauty's right;  
No wonder too though one all judgement lost,  
That had three naked goddesses in sight.   

And yet I know were not his wandering eyes,  
The Cyprian bribed by some lascivious smiles,  
My pompous birds in triumph through the skies,  
Had borne the gold that oft her nymphs beguiles.   

Am not I she whose greatness is admired,  
Whom jove for wife, whom thousands court for love?  
Whom haughty Ixion once t'embrace desired,  
Yet with a cloud deluded did remove.   

What needed me a matter to submit,  
Where my authority might have availed?  
Whilst though I promised wealth, and Pallas wit,  
Yet with a young man Venus' gift prevailed.   

But how durst he t'one's pleasure thus give place,  
Where two contemned their honour would repair?  
Is not our Sex impatient of disgrace?  
Of which there's none, but loves to be thought fair.   

T'avenge myself no kind of pain I spared,  
And made his greatest gain his greatest loss:  
As Venus gave him Helen for reward,  
I gave him Helen for his greatest cross.   

Nor did he long her love with joy enjoy,  
Whose faithless flames his country did confound:  
Whilst armies armed, for her did Troy destroy,  
And levelled Neptune's labours with the ground.   

Whilst Simois seemed to be a burial field,  
Whose streams as streets were with dead bodies paved  
All Xanthus' plain as turned t'a sea did yield  
A flood of blood, from hero's wounds received   

By braving thousands once though much esteemed,  
By dust and blood deformed, of Hector slain  
(Nor like Patrocius by the sword redeemed)  
The body basely was bought back again.   

Then by the same man's son that killed his son,  
Th' old Priamus surprised sighed forth his breath:  
And being most harmed where he for help had run,  
Whilst taking th'Altar, taken was by death;   

Though wrestling long t'avoid the heavens decree,  
By th'enemies sword being parted from the light,  
He that loved Helen, and was loath de by me,  
Died as a sacrifice t'appease my spite.   

Last having lived (if misery be a life)  
T'entomb all hers, that high mishaps had tried  
Though once being both, nor mother then, nor wife,  
The fertile Hecub', as being barren died.   

Thus by those means it would have seemed to some,  
That my scorned beauty had been highly venged:  
But whilst they were o'er-comed they did o'ercome,  
Since they for better states their states have changed.   

I in one part, that people did confound,  
But did enlarge their power in every place:  
All warlike nations through the world renowned,  
Now from the Phrygian ruins raise their race.   

And yet two traitors that betrayed the rest,  
(O heavens, that treason thus should prosper whiles)  
Of the Dardanian race did chance the best,  
More happy than at home in their exiles.   

Did not Antenor stealing through his foes,  
Near to the Euganian mountains build a town,  
Of which some nurslings once shall seek repose  
Amidst the waves, and in the depths sit down?  
Their city spousing Neptune, shall arise  
The rarest commonwealth that ever was.  
Whose people, if as stout, as rich and wise,  
Might boast to bring miraculous things to pass.   

Then false Aeneas (though but borne t'obey)  
Did of a fugitive become a King:  
And some of his near Tiber's streams that stay,  
Would all the world to their obedience bring.   

Their ravenous Eagles soaring over all lands,  
By violence th'imperial prey have won:  
That bastard brood of Mars with martial bands,  
Have conquered both the mansions of the Sun.   

Their course by mountains could not be controlled,  
No, Neptune could not keep his bosom free.  
Th'Antarctic heat, nor yet the arctic cold,  
No limits to their legions could decree.   

O of that city there could come no good,  
Whose rising walls with more than barbarous rage,  
The builder first bathed with his brother's blood,  
Which their prodigious conquests did presage.   

That town hath oft my soul with anguish filled,  
Whose new-born state oft triumphed over my wrath:  
Like my old foe that in his cradle killed,  
The serpents that I sent to give him death.   

By Sabins, Albans, Tuscans oft assailed,  
Even in her infancy I tossde Rome's state:  
Yet still Laomedon's false race prevailed,  
And angry juno could do nought but hate.   

Then when the gallant Gaules had vanquished Rome,  
That basely bought her liberty with gold:  
A banished man Camillus chanced to come,  
And her imbalanced state redeemed of old.   

Great Hannibal our common cause pursued,  
And made his bands within their bounds remain,  
With Consuls and with Praetors bloods imbrued,  
At Thrasimene and at cans slain.  
In Romans minds strange thoughts did fear infuse  
That did attend the taking of their town:  
But he that vanquish could, not victory use,  
Was by their brazen destiny thrown down.   

O what a torrent of Barbarians once,  
Inunding over the Alps their walls did boast,  
Whilst Teutons and the Cimbers big of bones,  
Like giants marched a more than monstrous host.   

But though from unknown parts to ruin Rome,  
I led those troops that all the world admire,  
Yet did the tyrant Marius them o'ercome,  
And I in vain to venge old wrongs aspired.   

By baser means I likewise sought her harms,  
Whilst janus church imported never peace,  
I raised up abject Spartacus in arms,  
That near eclipsed Rome's glory with disgrace.   

Though I that all the world for help have sought,  
From Europe, Afrique, and from Asia thus:  
Gaules, Carthaginians, and Cimbers brought,  
Yet did the damage still redound to us.   

Of heaven and earth I all the powers have proved,  
And for their wrack have each advantage watched:  
But they by foreign force could not be moved,  
By Romans, Romans only may be matched.   

And I at last have kindled civil war,  
That from their thoughts which now no reason bounds,  
Not only laws, but Nature's laws doth bar,  
The son the sire, the brother brother wounds.   

Whilst th'Eagles are opposed to th'Eagles so,  
O what contentment doth my mind contain:  
No wound is wrong bestowed, each kills a foe,  
whatever side doth lose I always gain.   

But this my soul exceedingly annoys,  
All are not subject to the like mishap:  
The war helps some as others it destroys,  
And those that hate me most, have still best hap.   

Whilst with their blood their glory thousands spend,  
Ah, ones advancement aggravates my woe:  
That vaunts himself from Venus to descend,  
As if he claimed by kind to be my foe.   

I mean the man whose thoughts nought can appease  
Whilst them too high a blind ambition bends,  
Whom as her minion Fortune bent to please,  
Her rarest treasures prodigally spends.   

Not only hath he daunted by the sword,  
The Gaules, the Germans, and th'Aegyptians now,  
But of all lords pretends to be made lord,  
That who command the world to him may bow.   

Thus dispossessing princes of their thrones,  
Whilst his ambition nothing can assuage:  
That the subjecteth world in bondage groans,  
The prey of pride, the sacrifice of rage.   

Men rail on jove, and sigh for Saturn's time,  
And to the present still th'Age past prefer:  
Then burden would the gods with every crime,  
And damn the heavens where only th'earth doth err.   

Though jove as stupid still with Cupid sports,  
And not the humour of proud Caesar spies:  
That may (if forcing thus the world's chief forts)  
More powerful than the Titans scale the skies.   

Yet lest he thrall him too that none free leaves,  
We from the bounds above must him repel:  
To brawl with Pluto in th'umbrageous caves,  
There since he will be first made first in hell.   

What? with that tyrant I will straight be even,  
And send his soul to the Tartarian grove:  
For though Joan be not jealous of his heaven,  
Yet juno must be jealous of her jove;   

And though none in the heaven would do him ill,  
He raise up some in th'earth to haste his death;  
Yea though both heaven and earth neglect my will,  
Hell can afford me ministers of wrath.   

I'll cross Cocytus and the smoking lakes,  
To borrow all my brother's damned bands:  
The Furies armed with firebrands and with snakes,  
Shall plant their hell where Rome so stately stands.   

Whilst by my fury Furies furious made,  
Do spare the dead to have the lilting pined:  
O with what joy will I that army lead?  
Nought than revenge more sweet t'a wronged mind.   

I'll once make this a memorable age,  
By this high vengeance that I have conceived:  
But what though thousands die t'appease my rage?  
So Caesar perish, let no soul be saved.   Exit. 

Chorus.  

WE should be grieved t'offend the gods,  
That hold us in a balance still;  
And as they will,  
May weigh us up or down,  
Those that by folly engender pride,  
And do deride  
The terror of th'eternal's rods,  
In seas of sin their souls do drown.  
And others but abhor them as unjust,  
Those that religion want deserve no trust.  
How dare frail flesh presume to rise?  
Whilst it deserves heavens wrath to prove,  
On th'earth to move,  
Lest that it opening straight,  
Give death and burial both at once:  
How dare such one's  
Look up unto the skies,  
For fear to feel the thunder's weight?  
All th'elements th'immortals will attend,  
And are as prompt to plague as men t' offend.  
None scapes some plague that gods displease:  
Then whilst he Bacchus' rites did scorn,  
Was Pentheus torn:  
The Delians high disdain  
Made Niobe though turned t'a stone,  
With tears still moan,  
And Pallas spite t'appease,  
Arachne weaves loathed webs in vain.  
Heaven hath prepared or ever they begin,  
A fall for pride, a punishment for sin.  
Lo juno yet doth still retain,  
That indignation once conceived,  
For wrong received,  
From Paris as we find,  
And for his cause, bent to disgrace  
The Trojan race,  
Doth hold a high disdain,  
Long laid up in a lofty mind,  
We should abstain from irritating those,  
Whose thoughts (if wronged) not till revenged repose:  
Thus those for Paris fond desire,  
That of his pleasures had no part,  
For them must smart,  
Such be the fruits of lust.  
Can heavenly breasts so long time lodge,  
A secret grudge,  
Like mortals thrall to ire,  
Till justice whiles doth seem unjust?  
Of all the furies that afflict the soul,  
Lust and revenge are har hardest to control:  
The gods give them but rarely rest,  
That do against their will contend,  
And plagues do spend  
That fortunate in nought  
Their sprites being parted from repose,  
May still expose  
Th'upbraiding troubled breast,  
A prey to each tyrannic thought:  
All self-accusing souls no rest can find,  
What greater torment than a, troubled mind:  
Let us adore th'immortal powers,  
On whose decree, of every thing  
The State doth hang,  
That far from barbarous broils,  
We of our life this little space  
May spend in peace,  
Free from afflictions showers,  
Or at the least from guilty toils,  
Let us of rest the treasure strive t'attain,  
Without the which nought can be had but pain.     

ACT. II.  

SCENE I.  julius Caesar, Marcus Antonius. 

NOw have my hopes attained th'expected haven,  
In spite of partial envies poisonous blasts:  
My fortune with my courage hath proved even,  
No monument of miscontentment lasts.   

Those that corrivaled me, by me o'erthrown,  
Did by their falls give feathers to my flight:  
I rather in some corner live unknown,  
Than shine in glory, and not shine most bright,   

What common is to two, rests no more,  
No Phoenix is in all the world save one:  
Grieved of my deeds that any claims a share,  
Would God that I had acted all alone.   

And yet at last I need to mourn no more,  
For envy of the Macedonians praise;  
Since I have equalled all that went before,  
My deeds in number do exceed my days.   

Some erst, (whose deeds rest registered by fame,)  
Did from their conquests glorious titles bring:  
But greatness to be great must have my name,  
It's more to be a Caesar than a King.   Ant. 
Those warlike nations that did nation's spoil,  
Are by thy legions now, t'our laws made thrall;  
What can not virtue do by time and toil,  
True magnanimity triumphs over all.  Caesar. 

Th'outrageous Gaules that in most monstrous swarms,  
Went wasting Asia, thundering down all things;  
And marching over the Macedonians arms,  
Did insolently make and unmake kings.   

Those Gaules that having the world's conqerors foiled,  
As if the world might not have matched them then,  
Would sacrilegiously have Delphos spoiled:  
And warred against the gods, contemning men,   

Yea those whose ancestors our city burned.  
The people that the Romans only feared:  
By me Rome's nursling matched and o'ermatched mourned,  
So what they first eclipsed again they cleared.   

Then as to subjects having given decrees,  
I left the Gaules their rash attempts to rue:  
And wounding Neptune's bosom with winged trees,  
The world divided Britain's did subdue.   

The Germans from their birth enured to war,  
Whose martial minds still haughty thoughts have bred,  
Whilst neither men nor walls my course could bar,  
Masked with my banners saw their Rhine run red,   

And th'oriental realms amidst of late,  
My coming and o'ercoming was but one:  
With little pain so Pompey was called great,  
That warred with those whose glorious days were gone:   

But what though thousands set one's praises forth,  
For fields which shadows and not swords obtained;  
Yet th'easy rate but vilifies the worth,  
No glory without labour can be gained.   

From dangers past my comfort now proceeds,  
Since all difficulties I did over come:  
And in few words to comprehend my deeds,  
Rome conquered all the world, and Caesar Rome.   Anto. 

Lo, those that strived your virtue to suppress,  
And were opposed to all your actions still:  
Whilst labouring but too much to make you less,  
Have made you to grow great against your will.   

Great Pompey's pomp is past, his glory gone,  
And austere Cato by himself lies killed:  
Than dastard Cicero more you honours none,  
Thus all your foes are with confusion filled.   

The Senators whose wrath could not b'assuaged,  
Long to your prejudice their power abused,  
Till at their great ingratitude enraged,  
I said our sword would grant what they refused.   

When having scaped, endangered, and despised,  
That Curio 'and I did to your camp resort,  
In old bare gowns like some base slaves disguised,  
All sighed to see us wronged in such a sort.   Caesar 

Th'inhabitants of heaven that know all hearts,  
They know my thoughts as pure as are their stars:  
And that constrained I came from foreign parts,  
To seem uncivil in the civil wars.   

I moved that war which all the world bemoans,  
Being urged by force to free myself from fears:  
Still when my hand gave wounds, my heart gave groans,  
No Romans blood was shed, but I shed tears.   

But how could any clevated sprite,  
That had for honour hazarded his blood;  
Yet yield by froward foes outrageous spite,  
To be defrauded of th'expected good.   

whenas a multitude of battles won,  
Had made Rome's Empire, and my glory great;  
And that the Gaules (oft vanquished) had begun  
T'embrace the yoke that they disdained of late.   

Then pompous Pompey, my proud son in law,  
And Cato, that still crossed what I designed,  
From favouring me the people did withdraw,  
And unto me a successor assigned.   

Not that he should succeed in dangerous broils,  
But even through envy, as they had ordained,  
That he might so triumph of all my toils,  
And rob the glory that I dearly gained.   

Could one with such indignities comport,  
That values honour dearer than the light?  
No, (whilst my soul rests sovereign of this fort)  
None shall have power to rob me of my right.   

And yet by jove, that all the world commands,  
T'use any violence I did mislike:  
And offered oft t'abandon all my bands,  
If that my enemies would have done the like.   

But the tumultuous multitude that still  
As waves with winds are carried with conceits,  
With nought but my disgrace would bound their will,  
And I committed all unto the fates.   

Yet when at Rubicon I stood perplexed,  
And weighed the horror of my high attempt,  
My soul was with a thousand fancies vexed,  
Which resolution buried in contempt.   Ant. 

Nought in a captain more confounds his foes,  
Then sudden resolutions swift effects;  
For so surprised ere they their thoughts dispose,  
All good advice prodigious care neglects.   

Though when you marched towards Rome, your power  
The sudden news so thundered in each ear: (was small,  
That (as if heaven had fallen upon them all,)  
They bred amazement, and th'amazement fear,   

Some secret destiny as then appeared,  
Doth guide men's actions and their judgements bounds,  
Them whom huge armies could not once have feared:  
A shadow or a rumour whiles confounds.   

be't that th'encroaching danger dulls their spirits.  
And doth prevent their resolution's power,  
Or that some destiny distracts their wits,  
When heavens determined have their fatal hour?   

Pompey the great that was grown aged in arms,  
And had triumphed over all the worlds three parts  
(Being quite discouraged with imagined harms)  
Fled Rome, though without reach of th'enemies' darts.   

Then as t'a torrent all gave place to you,  
Rome whom she called a rebel made her Lord:  
Your successor Domitius forced to bow,  
Did trust your favour more than fear your sword.   

When in th'Iberian bounds you did arrive,  
There th'adversary that did vainly vaunt,  
Had all th'advantage that the ground could give,  
And wealth of victuals that with us were scant.   

Yet the celerity that you had used  
Did so discourage their disordered band,  
That (as jove in their breasts had fear infused,)  
They had no strength against our strokes to stand.   

And when Rome's general with brave Legions stored  
Seemed to possess all that his soul require,  
Whilst us t'overthrow both famine and the sword,  
The sea, the land, and all in one conspire;   

Then for your offices they did contend,  
As those that of the victory were sure:  
And where they might th'affairs of state attend  
In Rome, for lodgings fondly did procure.   

Yet memorable now that day remains,  
When all the world was in two armies ranged:  
That Mars went raging through th'Aemathian plains,  
And to despairs high expectations changed.   

That famous field when the Pompeyans lost,  
(As lions do their prey) you did pursue  
The scattered remnant of that ruined host,  
On which new heads still like to Hydra grew.   

Though victory in Afric fatal seemed  
To any army that a Scipio led;  
Yet you show'd there, for worth in war esteemed  
That Rome a better than a Scipio bred:   

And all our enemies were confounded thus,  
That us in number ever did surmount;  
But Caesar and his fortune were with us,  
Which we did more than many thousands count.   Caes. 

The sweetest comfort that my conquests gave,  
It was the mean how to do many good;  
For every day some Romans life I save,  
That in the field to fight against me stood.   

Thus may my mind be judged by the event,  
That (even when by my greatest foes assailed)  
To win the battle never was more bent,  
Then prompt to pardon when I had prevailed.   

Not covetous of blood of spoils nor harms,  
I (though being victor) did insult over none,  
But laid aside all hatred with my arms,  
A foe in fight, a friend when it was gone.   

I like the praise of clemency, more than  
Of force, that with affliction th'enemy loads,  
For force proves oft the worst thing that's in men,  
And clemency the best thing in the gods.   

Stern Cato, but by Cato that would die,  
And either death or life, if given disdained;  
O, I envy thy death that didst envy,  
The glory that I saving thee had gained'.   

Yet I to rents and dignities restore  
Even those that my destruction had designed:  
And O, it doth delight my mind far more  
By benefits then by constraint to bind.   Ant. 
I would have all my foes brought to their ends.  Caes. 
I rather have my foes all made my friends.  Ant. 
Their blood whom I suspected should quench all strife.  Caes. 
So might one do that liked of nought but life.  An. 
Still life would be redeemed from dangers forth.  Caes. 
Not with a ransom than itself more worth.  An. 
Than life to man, what thing more dear succeeds?  Caes 
The great contentment that true glory breeds.  An. 
Men by all means this blast of breath prolong.  Caes. 
Men should strive to live well, not to live long.  
And I would spend this momentary breath,  
To live by fame for ever after death:  
For I aspire in spite of fates to live.  Ant. 
I fear that some too soon your death contrive.  Caes. 
Who dare but lodge such thoughts within their minds.  Ant. 
Those that the shadow of your greatness blinds.  Caes. 
The best are bound to me by gifts in store.  Ant. 
But to their country they are bound far more.  Caes. 
Then loath they me as th'enemy of the state?  Ant. 
You as th'usurper of the same they hate.  Caes. 
I by huge battles have enlarged their bounds.  An. 
By that they think your power too much abounds.  Caes. 
Yet I from doing wrong refrain my will.  Ant. 
They fear your power, because it may do ill.  Caes. 

The present state still miscontentment brings  
To factious minds affecting matters strange,  
That burdens to themselves irk of all things;  
And so they change, regard not what they change:   

In populous towns where many make repair,  
(Whose confluence by conference all things touch)  
They further than their bounds extend their care,  
The idle that do nothing, must think much.   

Lo, Rome (though wasted all with civil wars,  
Whilst private grudge pretended public good;  
And that equality engendering jars,  
Did prove too prodigal of Roman blood;)   

Yet having through huge toils attained to rest,  
That it by yielding t'one may banish tears:  
It if constrained disdains t'embrace the best,  
This word necessity so wounds the ears.   

And th'insolent with vile seditious words,  
That trembled whilst they heard the trumpets sound:  
Stir now their tongues, as we did then our swords,  
And what Mars spared, make mercury confound.   

The people thus in time of peace agree,  
T'abase the greatest still, even in that form  
As in calm days they do disbranch the tree,  
That shrouded them of late against a storm.   

But now I looked for liberty to boast,  
That once my deeds triumphed had over envy:  
As all dark shadows do evanish most,  
Then when the Sun shines highest in the sky:   

And though their hatred deeply they disguise,  
Yet they conceal not so their souls desires:  
But that their spite rest sparkling through their eyes,  
And boasts to burst out once in open fires.   Ant. 

Since first (great Caesar) I discerned thy worth,  
On all thy actions I did still attend:  
And therefore what some whisper, I'll speak forth,  
T'admonish freely it becomes a friend.   

Since first men did suspect that you aspire  
T'a Monarchy, the government to change;  
They in their souls your ruin do conspire,  
And their affections far from you estrange.   

Since chaste Lucretia by proud Tarquin stained,  
Washed with her blood the violated bed,  
Whilst by his power supreme Rome was constrained  
All things t'obey, that his cursed brain had bred.   

This government which some tyrannic call,  
It sounds so odious in the people's ears,  
As Tyrants vild, that they detest them all  
Whose greatness gives them any cause of fears.   Caes. 

I not affect the title of a king,  
For love of glory, or desire of gain,  
Nor for respect of any private thing,  
But that the state may by my travels gain.   

You know Sibilla's books that never fail,  
In many minds have an opinion bred:  
That over the Parthians Rome cannot prevail,  
Till by a sovereign prince her bands be led.   

For as confusion is the fruit we find  
Of those affairs that divers thoughts dispose;  
So sovereignty matched with a gallant mind,  
Breeds reverence in ones own, fear in his foes.   

And, O it grieves me that these steps of ours,  
Have trod so oft on many a millions necks,  
Whilst yet the Parthian vilipends our powers,  
And all our victories unvanquished checks.   

Ah, should a General of the Roman race  
Be by Barbarians killed, and not revenged?  
And should his ensigns, signs of our disgrace,  
Rest in the rank of conquered relics ranged?   

No, no, wretched Crassus, now thyself content,  
I'll pacify thy ghost with Parthians spoils:  
For still my boiling fancies have been bent  
T'o'ermatch th'unmatched, and daunt th'undaunted soils   Ant. 
With victories being cloyed, will you not then  
Your safety once, more than new wars respect?  Caes 

No, though I have surmounted other men,  
My fancies yet do greater things affect:   

In emulation of myself at last,  
Even enviously I look on mine own deeds;  
And bent to make the new surpass things past,  
Now to my mind old praise no pleasure breeds.   Ant. 
The world hath seen thee (great man) for Rome's good,  
In danger oft of many a dangerous shelf:  
Whilst for her glory thou engaged thy blood,  
Of others careful, careless of thyself.  Caes. 

Though whilst in th'April of my blooming age,  
I from the vulgar rate redeemed my name,  
Some with my deeds did burden youths hot rage,  
And an ambitious appetite of fame.   

Yet since the coldness of declining years  
boasts to congeal the blood that boiled of late,  
Whilst else my life the sun of glory clears,  
That now of all the world remain most great.   

I cannot covet that thing which I have,  
I have all honour that can be required.  
And now (as th'only wanted thing) would crave,  
To taste the pleasures of a life retired.   

But only now t'advance the state I strive,  
For, O neglecting th'echoes of renown  
I could content myself unknown to live  
A private man, with a Plebeian gown.   

Since (anthony) thus for the state I care,  
And all delights that nature loves disdain:  
Go, and in time the people's minds prepare,  
That as the rest, I may the title gain.   

Yet indirectly at the first, assay  
To what their doubtful minds do most incline:  
But as without my knowledge, that they may  
All mark your mind, and yet not think of mine.   Exeunt.  

ACT. II. SCENE. II.  Cicero. Decius Brutus. 

DId I survive th'impetuous Silla's rage's,  
And in a torrent of destruction stood:  
Whilst tyrants did make Rome a tragic stage,  
Through a voluptuous appetite of blood?   

scaped I confusion in a time so bad,  
Of liberty and honour once to taste,  
That bondage now might make my soul more sad,  
By the remembrance of my fortunes past?   

What though I once (when first by fame made known)  
From Catiline's strange treason did preserve  
This town, that's still endangered by her own,  
Since first the world from equity did serve?   

A spark of that conspiracy remains,  
Not yet extinguished t' have our state embroiled;  
That now on Rome flames of confusion rains,  
Thus one was spared that we might all be spoiled.   

O worthy Cato, in whose wondrous mind,  
Three rarely matched things Nature did reveal:  
Wit, honesty, and courage which designed  
A citizen for Plato's commonweal.   

Whilst courteous Pompey did things as a friend,  
Thou as a wiseman spoke, and still foretold,  
To what all Caesar's deeds would turn in th'end,  
If that his pride were not in time controlled.   

And had we him as wisely thou advised,  
Given to the Germans whom he had injured:  
We had not now been thus like slaves despised,  
To see Rome's glory, and our own obscured.   

But yet I may disbending former cares,  
A space comport with that proud tyrant's powers;  
Age gives assurance by my withered hairs,  
That death will seal my surety in few hours.   

Yet ye whose youth and sprite might have attained  
Those dignities that Caesar hath undone:  
O ye have lost as much as he hath gained,  
Whose rising hopes must be retrenched so soon.   Dec. 

Though innovations at the first seem strange,  
Yet oft experience approbation brings:  
And if with upright thoughts we weigh this change,  
On it the safety of our city hangs.   

As in the depths dashed with redoubling waves,  
A ship by different minds rests more embroiled,  
So was our city plagued with diverse laws,  
By th'all-confounding multitude turmoiled.   

As whilst t'one sickness diverse drugs are used,  
Whose powers repugnant in digestion jar:  
Th'impatient patient's fancies rest confused,  
So did we long distressed with civil war.  
But now great Caesar from tempestuous winds,  
Rome's scattered ruins recollects of late:  
A Pilot meet to calm tumultuous minds,  
A doctor fit for a distempered state.   Ci. 

The state from storms secure by drowning proves,  
Now whilst despair doth doubtful fears appease:  
He with the life th'infirmity removes,  
Thus is the physic worse than the disease.   

This commonweal (as whiles the world did spy)  
Though some proud sprites in civil wars involved,  
Yet like black clouds that would obscure the sky,  
Their tumid humours suddenly dissolved.   

And no disgrace t'our government redounds,  
But to th'ambitious that had it abused:  
Who (had their power like Caesar's wanted bounds)  
Had whilst they ruled a greater rigor used.   

There in all parts are people of all kinds,  
And as advanced some bad men did abide,  
Of power their equals, and of better minds,  
Some always virtuous were to curb their pride.   

But since that sacred liberty was lost,  
The public power t'a private use one turns:  
And as his lawless ways did always boast,  
The common weal by violence o'erturns.   Dec. 

Though what you burden Caesar with were true,  
Him of all crime Necessity hath cleared:  
That was foes force t'eschew, forced to pursue,  
Whilst by contempt t'attempt great things being cheered:   

To th'enemies' envy more obliged he rests,  
Then t'his own wit that no such courses scanned,  
Till by being barred from using of requests,  
Not looked for means were offered to command.   

All to mount high his haughty thoughts did tempt,  
True worth disdains to suffer open wrong:  
And a great courage kindled by contempt,  
Must by revenge be quenched whilst rage makes strong.   Cic. 

O Decius, now a wrong account you cast,  
Th'intent; and not th'event defines the mind:  
Tread back the steps of all his actions past,  
And at the mark he hit all aimed we find   

As by some sprite inspire proud scylla said,  
That there in Caesar many Marians were:  
And Rome was warned in time to be afraid  
Of the evil-girded youth, with smoooth-faced hair.   

Then when (as still to quietness a foe,)  
The memory of Marius he renewed:  
By re-erecting tyrant's statues so,  
His thoughts all bent to tyranny were viewed.   

That people-pleaser might have been perceived,  
By courteous compliments beneath his rank;  
That lavishing forth gifts the world deceived,  
And to gain more than his, of his proved frank.   

Though nought at all indulgent to his wife,  
By prostrated pudicity disgraced:  
Yet did he save th'adulterous Clodius' life,  
To sooth the multitude whose steps he traced.   Dec. 

These be the means by which ambition mounts,  
Without most humble, when most high within:  
And as it fled from that thing which it hunts,  
Still wasting most, when most it minds to win.   Cic. 

And he that still strived tyranny t'embrace,  
Was thought conjoined with Catiline to be;  
And had wise Cato's counsel taken place,  
Had with the rest received his death by me.   

Yet having sunk himself in some men's souls,  
He with his partial faction suiting oft:  
Did get the consulship which nought controls,  
And matching pride with power did look aloft.   

To flatter them that now must flatter him,  
His power t'advance unlawful laws prevailed:  
And those to cross that scorned he so should climb,  
He furnished was with Force, where Reason failed.   

But yet because he could not well b'assured,  
T'act all alone according to his will;  
To govern France he craftily procured,  
So to be strengthened with an army still;   

As Rome first warred at home till being made strong,  
She thought herself of power the world t'o'ercome:  
So Caesar warred against strange nations long,  
Till that he thought his might might conquer Rome.   

Then having all that force or fate assigns,  
He cause of discontentment did pretend;  
So to dissemble foreconceived designs,  
One soon may find a fault that seeks t'offend.   

But when he first in a prodigious dream  
His mother seemed incestuously to use:  
It might have shown to his eternal shame,  
How he the bounds that bore him went t'abuse.   Dec. 
And yet I think avoiding threatened harms,  
He was constrained t'embark in civil broils:  
Did he not covenant to quit his arms,  
As not desirous of his country's spoils?  Cic. 

Durst he with those that had his charge confined,  
Stand to prescribe conditions as their mate;  
Where t'have attended and obeyed their mind,  
It was his duty, and their due of late.   

What? what? durst he, whom borne t'obey the law,  
The people all did willingly promote;  
The sword which they bade given, against them draw,  
When it was sharpened first to cut their throat?   

That had not comed which all our anguish breeds,  
If he unforced, whenas his charge expired,  
Till that the Senate censured had his deeds,  
Had from his province peaceably retired.   

No, he hath but betrayed his native town,  
Those bands by which she did him first prefer;  
T'extend her borders, and his own renown,  
Those hath he used to tyrannize over her.   

My passions (ah transported as you see,  
With an excessive love to my dear soil,)  
Have made my tongue of my hearts-store too free,  
By flaming forth what in my breast doth boil.   Dec. 

That Caesar's part might justly be excused,  
Lo, with the cause alleged his course accords:  
Of which th'humanity that he hath used,  
A testimony to the world affords.   

Though forced to fight, he always had great care,  
To save our Citizens as each man knows;  
And bade his captains still all Romans spare,  
But on Barbarians bodies spend their blows.   

Of th'adversaries after bloody strife,  
When of thee might have made some captives smart:  
Not only was he liberal of their life,  
But pardoned them still to take Pompey's part.   

even at th'infortunate Pharsalian field,  
When he securely might have used the sword:  
He both did spare all th'enemies that would yield,  
And them to rents and dignities restored.   

Then when th'Aegyptians so t'obtain relief,  
Brought to his sight pale Pompey's bloodless head;  
He testified with tears his inward grief,  
And graced his statues after he was dead.   

Those his proceedings might appear t'approve,  
That he against his will maintained this war;  
And to his country bears a tender love,  
That could comport to rain his rage so far.   Cic. 

Those counterfeited favours which he show,  
According to one's custom that aspires,  
Were spent on many as the world might view,  
T'insinuate himself in their desires.   

But where he thus spared some, he spoiled 'whole hosts  
And the Barbarians all to Rome not wrought  
Such harm as he that of his goodness boasts,  
Yet her best men hath to confusion brought.   

The great man that of no mishap could pause,  
But still prevailed, whilst warring without right,  
Armed for the common weal in a good cause,  
With Caesar did unfortunately fight.   

From Lesbos fled with his afflicted wife,  
Three base-born grooms (can fortune change so soon)  
Stood to consult upon great Pompey's life,  
And did what thousands durst not once have done.   

Then he whose knees had oft been kissed by kings,  
(Most highly happy, had he died in time)  
By one of his own slaves with abject things,  
Had his last funerals framed (O monstrous crime)   

T'entomb Rome's greatest captain all alone,  
The Roman that arrived with reason said,  
The fatal glory was too great for one,  
And to have part of that last honour stayed.   

The tears bestowed by Caesar on his head,  
Forth from a guilty mind remorse had thrown,  
Or else he wept to see his enemy dead,  
By any others hands than by his own.   

Then constant Cato that even death did scorn,  
The rare arch-type of an accomplished man,  
That lived as not t'himselfe but t'all men borne,  
Moved by his tyranny to ruin ran.   

He justly whilst more just, himself more strong  
Than Caesar thought, that for no justice card,  
And since discovering what he cloaked so long,  
Said right, that Caesar and not he was snared.   

Thus Caesar conquered all but Cato's mind,  
That would not by a tyrant's tolerance breath:  
But in such sort his famous course confined,  
Than Caesar's life more glorious was his death.   

Those great men thus brought to disastrous ends,  
The author of their death make me despise,  
That whilst t'usurp th'authority he tends,  
By treading down all good men strives to rise.   

Now made most great by lessening all the great,  
He proudly doth triumph in Rome, over Rome.  
And we must seem t'applaud the present state,  
Whose doubtful breath depends upon his doom.   

Yet had I not enlarged my griefs so long,  
To you whom Caesar doth pretend to love;  
Were't nor I know touched with the common wrong,  
A just disdain all generous minds must move.   Dec. 

Had Caesar willingly resigned his arms,  
And rendered Rome her liberty at last,  
whenas from foes he feared no further harms,  
But had repaired his just displeasures past.   

More than for all the love that's showed to me,  
He should have had an Altar in my breast:  
As worthy for his virtuous deeds to be  
Feared by the bad, and honoured by the best.   

But since though conquering all the world by might,  
He to himself a slave would make Rome thrall;  
His benefits are loathsome in my sight,  
And I am grieved that he deserves to fall.   

My fancies move not in so low a sphere,  
But I disdain that one over Rome empires;  
Yet it is best, that with the time we bear,  
And with our power proportion our desires.   

Though I dissembled first your mind to try,  
And told what Fame to Caesar's praise relates;  
Yet was I pleased that more were grieved than I,  
All mis-contented men are glad of mates.   Cic. 

Since tyranny all liberty exiles,  
We must ourselves no more ourselves disguise;  
Then learn to mask a mourning mind with smiles,  
And seem t'extol that which we most despise.   

Yet all our deeds not Caesar's humour please,  
That (since mistrusted once) esteems us still  
When dumb disdainful, flatterers when we praise,  
If plain, presumptuous, and in all things ill.   

Yea we, whose freedom Caesar now restrains,  
As his attenders all his steps must trace;  
And know, yet not acknowledge his disdains,  
But still pretend t'have interest in his grace.   

Though all my thoughts detest him as a foe,  
To honour him a thousand means I move;  
Yet But to save myself, and plague him so,  
No hate more harms than it that looks like love.   

His pride that through preposterous honour swells,  
Hath by the better sort, made him abhorred;  
The gods are jealous, and men envious else,  
To see a mortal man so much adored.   Dec. 
Well, Cicero let all means be entertained,  
That may embark us in his bosoms depths,  
Till either willingly or then constrained,  
He justly quite what he unjustly keeps.  Exeunt. 

Chorus.  

This life of ours is like a Rose,  
Which whilst it beauty's rare array,  
Doth then enjoy the least repose  
When virginlike it blush we see:  
Then is't every hand the prey,  
And by each wind is blown away:  
Yea though from violence scaped free,  
(Whilst time triumphs, it leads all thralls)  
Yet doth it languish and decay.  
O Whilst the courage hottest boil,  
And that our life seems best to be,  
It is with dangers compassed still,  
Whilst it each little change appals,  
The body force without whiles foils,  
It th'own distemperature whiles spoils:  
Of which, though none it chance to kill:  
As nature fails the body falls,  
Of which, save death, nought bounds the toils.  
What is this moving tower in which we trust?  
A little wind closed in a cloud of dust.  
And yet some spirits though here being pent,  
In this frail prisons narrow bounds,  
With what might suffice not content,  
Do always bend their thoughts too high,  
And aim at all the peopled grounds,  
Then whilst their breasts ambition wounds,  
Though feeding as bent straight to die.  
They build as they might always live,  
Being famished for fame's empty sounds:  
Of such no end the travels ends,  
But a beginning gives whereby  
They may b'embroiled worse than before,  
For whilst they still new hopes contrive,  
Th'expected good more anguish sends  
Then the possessed contentment lends,  
Like beasts that taste not, but devour.  
They swallow much, and for more strive,  
Whilst still their hope new hap attends:  
And how can such but still themselves annoy,  
That know to conquer, but not how t'enjoy?  
Since as a ship amidst the depths,  
Or as an Eagle through the air,  
Of which their way no impression keeps,  
Most swift when seeming least to move:  
This breath of which we take such care,  
Doth toss the body everywhere,  
That it may hence with haste remove:  
Life slips and sleeps always away,  
Then whence, and as it came goes bare,  
Whose steps behind no trace doth leave.  
Why should heaven-banished souls thus love  
The cause, and bounds of their exile,  
Where they as restless strangers stray,  
And with such pain why should they reave  
That which they have no right to have:  
Which with themselves within short while,  
As summers beauties must decay,  
And can give nought except the grave,  
Though all things do to harm him what they can,  
No greater enemy than himself to man:  
Whilst oft environed with his foes  
That threatened death on every side,  
Great Caesar parted from repose,  
As Atlas underneath the stars  
Did of a world the weight abide.  
But since a prey t'excessive pride,  
More than by all the former wars,  
He now by it doth harmed remain  
And of his fortune doth defied  
Made rich by many a nation's wrack,  
He breaking through the liquid bars,  
In Neptune's arms his minion forced,  
Yet still pursued new hopes in vain.  
Ah, would th'ambitious looking back,  
Of their inferiors knowledge take,  
They from huge cares might be divorced,  
Whilst viewing few more wealth attain,  
And many more than they to lack.  
Lo, th'only plague from men that rest doth reave,  
Is valuing what they want, not what they have.  
Since thus the great themselves involve  
In such a labyrinth of cares,  
Whence none to scape can well resolve,  
But by degrees is forward led  
Through waves of hopes, rocks of despairs:  
Let us annoyed ambitions snares,  
And far from storms by envy bred,  
Still seek securely a humble rest,  
With minds where no proud thought repairs,  
That in vain shadows doth delight:  
Thus may our fancies still be fed  
With that which Nature freely gives.  
Let us iniquity detest,  
And hold but what we owe of right,  
Th'eyes treasure is th'all-circling light:  
Not that vain pomp for which th'earth strives,  
Whose glory but a poisonous pest,  
T'o'erthrow the soul delights the sight,  
Ease comes with ease where all by pain buy pain:  
Rest we in peace, by war let others reign.      

ACT. III.  

SCENE. I.  Caius Cassius. Marcus Brutus. 

NOw, Brutus now, we need no more to doubt,  
Nor with blind hopes our judgement to suspend:  
Lo, all our expectations are worn out,  
For now it's time t'attempt, and not t'attend.   

Th'imperious people that did th'earth appall,  
Ah vanquished by their victories at last,  
Are by their too much liberty made thrall,  
Since all their strength but serves themselves to cast.   

And we that once seemed borne t'aim at great things,  
Of the world's mistress mighty minions once,  
That might have laboured to give laws to kings,  
Laws from a king, must look for now with groans.   

For such of Caesar is the monstrous pride,  
That though he domineers else at this hour,  
And to his clients kingdoms doth divide,  
With an unlimited tyrannic power.   

Yet of Dictator he disdains the name,  
And seeks a tyrant's title with the place:  
Not for his honour, no, but for our shame,  
As only bent to brag of our disgrace.   Marc. Brut. 

I thought to see that man (as others are)  
Walk reappareled with a private gown,  
As one that had unwillingly made war  
T'hold up himself, not to cast others down.   

So Silla, though more inhuman than he,  
Whilst having all to what his heart aspired,  
The sovereignty resigned, and set Rome free  
When all such expectation was expired.   

By Caesar's worth we must think that he too,  
Will liberty restore t'our troubled state:  
When first the world hath viewed what he might do,  
His thoughts are generous as his mind is great.   

And though some insolencies scape him whiles,  
His dying fury sparkles but a space:  
Nought th'inspirations quite of Mars exiles,  
Till one be used with th'innocency of peace.   

Those that by violence did t'all things tend,  
Scarce can themselves t'a quiet course conform:  
Their stately carriage and frank words offend,  
Whilst peace cannot comport with wars rude form.   

I hope that Caesar settling civil broils,  
When disaccustomed is intestine rage:  
Will strive to mitigate his countries toils,  
Bent all those flames that burned his breast t'assuage.   Ca Cass. 

Thus of his course you by your own conceived  
As if like thoughts of both did bound the will:  
Ah, honest minds are with least pain deceived:  
Those that themselves are good dream not of ill.   

But of bad minds to sound th'unsound device,  
Their inclination must your judgement sway:  
The square of virtue cannot measure vice,  
Nor yet a line that's straight a crooked way.   

So Caesar may prevail t'usurp the state,  
He cares not by what violence nor sleight:  
O, one may soon deceive men and grow great,  
That leaves religion, honesty and right,   

whenas the Senators (no more their own)  
Came to that Tyrant whom ambition blinds,  
And showed him by what honours they had shown,  
To gratify his greatness grateful minds.   

He in a chair imperiously being placed,  
Not deigned to rise nor bow in any sort:  
As both of them had but their due embraced,  
When he a haughty, they an humble port.   

But if he thus, ere we be thoroughly thralled  
Dare so disdainfully such great men use:  
When in a regal throne by us installed  
Then will he break that which he now doth bruise.   

Was he not first that ever yet began,  
To violate the sacred Tribune's place;  
And punished them for punishing a man,  
That had transgressed the laws in time of peace?   

The laws that do of death all guilty hold,  
Whose actions seem to tyranny inclined:  
So earnest were our ancestors of old,  
To quench the light of tyrants ere it shined:   

And shall our Nephews (heirs of bondage) blame  
Us dastard parents that their hopes deceived,  
That saw, that suffered, that survived such shame,  
Not leaving dead, what we being borne received?   

By Caesar's friends to an assembly brought,  
The Senators intend to call him king.   Brut. 
I'll not be there.  Cass. 
But what if we be sought  
T'assist as Praetors such a public thing?  Brut. 
Then I'll resist that violent decree;  
None of Rome's crown shall long securely boast,  
For ere that I live thralled, I'll first die free:  
What can be kept when liberty is lost?  Cass. 

O with what joy I swallow up those words,  
Words worthy of thy worth, and of thy name:  
But Brutus be not feared, this cause affords  
Thee many mates in danger, few in fame.   

When anthony proud Caesar's Image crowned  
The people by a silent sorrow told,  
In what a depth of woes their thoughts were drowned  
That Comet of confusion to behold.   

What do those scrolls thrown in thy chair import,  
Which what thou art to thy remembrance brings?  
Be those the fancies of th'inferior sort?  
No, none but noble minds dream of great things.   

Of other praetors people look for shows,  
And distributions whose remembrance dies:  
Whilst bloody fencers fall with mutual blows,  
And Africa's monsters made t'amaze their eyes.   

But from thy hands they liberty attend,  
A glory hereditary to thy race,  
And following thee their blood will frankly spend,  
So thou succeed in thy great parents place;   

That Rome's redeemer once did Tarquin foil,  
Though from his birth obeyed, and without strife,  
Where thou shouldst but th'aspiring tyrant spoil,  
That would t'extinguished tyranny give life.   Brut. 

I weigh thy words, with an afflicted heart,  
That for compassion of my country bleeds,  
And would to God that I might only smart,  
So that all others scaped th'evil that succeeds.   

Then never man himself from death did free  
With a more quiet and contented mind,  
Than I would perish, if I both could be  
To Caesar thankful, and t'our country kind.   

But though that great man's grace towards me enlarged  
May challenge right in my affection's store:  
Yet must the greatest debt be first discharged,  
I owe him much, but to my country more.   

This in my breast hath great dissension bred;  
I Caesar love, but yet Rome's enemy hate:  
And as jove lives, I could be moved to shed  
My blood for Caesar, Caesar's for the state.   

I for my father's death loathed Pompey long,  
Whilst just disdain did boil within my breast,  
Yet when he warred to venge the common wrong,  
I joined with him because his cause was best.   

A mind t'usurp if Caesar now reveal.  
I will in time precipitate his end  
Thus being still bent t'advance the Commonweal,  
I helped a foe, and now must hurt a friend.   Cass. 

Least of his favour thou the poison prove,  
From swallowing of such baits (dear friend) beware:  
No tyrant (trust me) can entirely love,  
Nor none that for himself doth only care.   

He by such courtesies doth but intend  
T'embase thy virtues, undermine thy mind,  
And thy suspected courage to disbend,  
Yea (though with silken bonds he would thee bind.)   

This of all tyrants is the common tread,  
To wreak all those in whom most worth he finds:  
Or (whilst that terrors toss his jealous head,)  
T'use subtleties t'amuse the greatest minds:   

As when we for the Praetorship did strive,  
Than both were held in hope that so deceived  
We others' harms might study to contrive,  
Through emulation and disdain conceived.   

Thus subtle Caesar by such sleights hath toiled  
To sow dissension, that we both may pause  
Of private wrongs; and by such means embroiled,  
Still courting him, neglect the common cause.   

But nought from other's must our thoughts estrange,  
That must in time the tyrant's course restrain:  
Let other men lament, we must revenge,  
I scorn to bear a sword and to complain.   Brut. 

Though Caesar (now) I must conspire thy fall,  
My heart towards thee, yet never harboured hate:  
But (pardon me) whoever make it thrall,  
From bondage Brutus must redeem the state,   

Of this my course whatever others judge,  
Here I protest it is for good designed;  
My thoughts are guilty of no private grudge,  
For reason, and not fury moves my mind.  
Nor is't ambition that inflames my breast,  
With a prodigious appetite to reign,  
That when I have made Caesar Pluto's guest,  
I in his room a monarch may remain.   

No, if that glory did my fancies charm,  
To which blindfolded tyrants do aspire;  
I needed not to do, nor suffer harm,  
But with less pain might compass my desire.   

For if I would but temporize a space,  
Till Time, or Death diminish Caesar's might.  
He thinks that I deserve t'enjoy his place,  
And I could make my day succeed his night.   

Yet do I not endear myself so much,  
That I'll seek honour by my country's shame,  
But O, I would (my zeal to it is such)  
To save it from reproach seem worthy of blame.   

Yea so, that I may free with honoured wounds,  
My soil than is my soul more dear to me:  
I care not straight to be barred from the bounds,  
That at so dear a rate I would set free.   Cass. 

What man doth breathe of Mars his martial race,  
But will with Brutus sacrifice his blood,  
And charged with arms ere tyranny take place,  
Dare venture all things for his countries good?   

Can any judgement be deceived so far,  
But that it else most clearly may behold,  
How that this change Rome greatness straight will mar,  
And raze the trophies that she reared of old.   

Of old in Rome all those that once had worn  
The peace-importing gown, or warlike shield,  
Of dignities as capable being borne,  
Durst aim at all that liberty could yield.   

Those in affairs to deal that would set forth,  
Were not discouraged by their birth, though base,  
And poverty could not hold back true worth,  
From having honour both by war and peace.   

Then emulation violently drived  
All gallant minds t'attempt great actions still;  
That in the love of venue rivals lived,  
Whilst Glory in their bosoms balm did still.   

Fabricius first was from the plow advanced,  
The rudder of the commonwealth to hold;  
Yet by no means his private wealth enhanced,  
As rich in virtue still, as poor in gold.   

Rude Marius too, to match red Mars in fame  
Forth from the vulgar dross his race removed,  
And lo, of Cicero the ridiculous name,  
As famous as the Fabians now hath proved.   

Each abject mind disdained to be obscure,  
When still preferrment followed lofty cares,  
And that one might by dangers past procure,  
Fame to himself, and honour to his heirs.   

But since that state by Caesar is o'erturned,  
Whilst all our lives depend upon ones lips;  
Of breasts that once with love of glory burned,  
From soaring thoughts this course the feathers clips.   

Advancement now attends not on desert,  
But on th'opinion of a flattered mind;  
That to th'applauding hireling doth impart,  
High honours that true worth can hardly find.   

To these all tyrants most addicted prove,  
Whom without reason they have raised too high,  
As thinking those that stand but by their love,  
To entertain the same all means must try.   

Where they whose virtue reaps a due reward,  
Not building only on th'advancers grace,  
Do by deserts not gain so great regard,  
Whilst they maintain, as they obtain their place.   

And if a worthy man to work great things,  
Winged with th'usurpers favours raise his flight.  
The highest course to him most harm still brings,  
That till he fall, can not have leave to light.   

Those that by force would have th'affection moved,  
When willingly men hold such gallants dear.  
They rage that any should be freely loved,  
Whose virtue makes their vice more vile appear.   

The man that now to be preferred aspires,  
Must with effronted flatteries servile form,  
Still soothing Caesar, seal all his desires,  
And in some shadow lurk t'avoid a storm,   

A number else of that proud rebels foes,  
Grieved to behold th'occasion of their grief.  
Strive in obscurity t'entomb their woes,  
So waiting, and not working for relief.   

But we whose lofty minds disdain to lower,  
As those that seek but their own safety thus;  
When shall we spend an indignations power,  
That's worthy of true Romans, and of us;   

Since no indignity resolved t'endure,  
I see our minds do sympathize in this,  
Should we by suffering seek to live secure,  
Whose action must amend what is amiss?   

No, no such abject thought must stain our breast,  
To cure calamity but by discourse,  
Whilst but like beasts, affecting food and rest,  
Where men by reason should direct their course.   

Like those of other parts secure from strife,  
If Caesar had been borne, or choosed our Prince,  
Than those that durst attempt to take his life,  
The world of treason justly might convince.   

For still the states that flourish for the time,  
By subjects should be inviolable thought;  
And those no doubt commit a monstrous crime,  
That lawful sovereignty profane in aught.   

And we must think (though now being brought to bow,  
The Senate king, a subject Caesar is,  
Th'authority that violating now,  
The world must damn as having done amiss.   

We will (dear Cassius) for our country's sake,  
ourselves expose to danger, or to death;  
And let us now advise what course to take,  
Whilst nought burr th'air can bear away our breath.   Cass. 

I think this matter needs not many words,  
Since but one deed can bound the common shame;  
In Caesar's body we must sheath our sword,  
And by his death our liberty reclaim.   

But since his fortune did confound them all,  
That in the fields to match him did begin;  
Whilst he by thousands made their bands to fall,  
With hoary legions always used to win.   

As Pompey's, Scipio's, and Petreius ghosts,  
In sightless shades may by experience tell,  
That after th'overthrow of their numbrous hosts,  
All famous (though infortunately) fell,   

And since provided for the Parthian war,  
His army in arms attends on his decree,  
Where we sequestered from such forces far,  
Would, if suspected, straight prevented be;   

With some few friends, whom all things now t'assay,  
A love to us, or to their country binds,  
We to his wrack must walk another way,  
Whilst ere our tongues, our hands do tell our minds.   

Now when most high, and therefore hated most,  
Th'assembled Senate seeks to make him king;  
We must go give the blow before we boast,  
And him to death, Rome out of bondage bring.   Brut. 

In all this course I only one thing blame,  
That we should steal, what we may justly take,  
By clothing honour with a cloak of shame,  
Which may our cause (though good) more odious make.   

O, I could wish, with honourable wounds  
T'affront Rome's enemy in the battles dust;  
No sweeter music than the Trumpets sounds,  
When Right and Valour keep a consort just.   

Then free if quick, else dead for nought being feared,  
I always once contented might remain;  
What tomb t'a man more glorious can be reared,  
Than mountains made of them that he hath slain?   

But how are my transported thoughts grown such,  
That they disdain a measure now t'admit?  
As bent not what to do, but to do much,  
I on the throne of Glory strived to sit.   

No, to the state me from myself I give,  
Free from particular respects, t'expose  
My life and all for it, and whilst I live,  
So that it gain, I care not what I lose.   

I'll never rest till he for ever rest,  
That gives my country such a cause of grief;  
And that t'effect no form I will detest,  
Nor for my fame endanger Rome's relief.   

But (worthy Cassius) ere we further do,  
Let us the minds of our familiars feel,  
Of which I hope to have assistance too,  
Who will not hazard for his country's weal.   Cass. 
Now whilst my soul rests ravished in a trance,  
I think I see great Rome her courage raise,  
Bent to beat th'air with songs, th'earth with a dance,  
And crown thy virtues with deserved praise.   

ACT. III. SCENE II.  Marcus Brutus, Portia. 

MY dearest half, my comfort, my delight,  
That only servest to sweeten all my sours,  
Thou in my bosom used t'uncharge thy sprite,  
And in my presence spared afflictions powers.   

Still when domestic broils disturbed thy rest,  
Whilst by thyself thou laboured for relief,  
Thou with calm words disguised a stormy breast,  
Lest I had been infected with thy grief:   

For such of me was thy respective care,  
No cause of miscontentment was made known,  
But with affections colours painted fair,  
All that might make me glad, was gladly shown.   

What makes thee then thy courage thus to lose,  
That thou can look so sad, and in my sight?  
Lend me (dear love) a portion of thy woes,  
A burden being divided doth grow light.   

I see the Roses fading in thy face,  
The Lilies languish, Violets take their place.   Port. 

Thou hast (dear Lord) prevented my design,  
Which was to ask of thee, what makes me pale;   

It Phoebus had no light, could Phoebe shine?  
No, with the cause of force th'effect must fail.   

The mirror but gives back as it receives,  
A just resemblance of th'objected form:  
And such impression as th'engraver leaves,  
The wax retains still to the stamp conform.   

O I'm the mirror that reflects thy mind,  
According to the influence of thine eyes,  
I take the state in which thy state I find,  
Such is my colour as thy countenance dies.   

Then how can I rejoice whilst thou art sad,  
Whose breast of all thy crosses is the scroll?  
I am still as thou art, if grieved, or glad,  
Thy Body's shadow, th'essence of thy soul.   

On that great planet that divides the years,  
As th'increase of th'inferior fields depends;  
And as it doth evanish, or appears,  
In th'earth's could bosom life begins, or ends:   

Sun of my soul, so I subsist by thee,  
Whose course rests to thy secret motions thrall,  
For when thou art from cloudy fortunes free,  
I rise in joys, but if thou faint, I fall.   Bru. 

This countenance with my custom but accords,  
That as you know yet never from my birth,  
Light gestures used joined with lascivious words,  
Nor yet ridiculous fashions that move mirth.   

My melancholious nature feeds on cares,  
Whilst smothered sorrow by a habit smokes,  
A thoughtful breast that's burdened with affairs,  
Doth make a silent mouth, and speaking looks.   

As for my paleness it imports but good,  
Th'abasing of the body mounts the mind:  
Where fatness comed from food, but serves for food,  
In fattest bodies leanest sprites we find.   

Ah, since I saw th'abhorred Thessalian bounds  
All drenched with blood of Senators and kings:  
(As if my soul yet smarted in their wounds,)  
A secret sorrow oftentimes me stings.   

But since thy famous father with strange blows,  
In the most hideous form affronted death,  
To him my mind a sad remembrance owes,  
Which sorrow shall exact still whilst I breathe.   

Yet am I grieved t'have given thee cause of grief,  
That thought some new mishap did me dismay;  
To such old sores it's worst to give relief,  
But time in end may wear my woes away.   Por. 

Why shouldst thou so from me thy thoughts conceal?  
From thine own soul that in thy bosom sleeps,  
To whom, though shown, thou dost them not reveal,  
But in thyself more inwardly them keep'st?   

And thou canst hardly hide thyself from me,  
That straight in thee each alteration spy,  
I can comment on all that comes from thee,  
True love still looks with a suspicious eye.   

Rests not within our bosom every thought,  
Tuned by a sympathy of mutual love?  
Thou mar'st the music if thou change in aught,  
Which straight by my distemperature I prove.   

Soul of my soul, unfold what is amiss,  
My mind some great disaster doth divine,  
And even excuse my curiousness in this,  
Since it concerns thy state, and therefore mine.   Brut. 

I wonder that thou dost thy frailty show,  
All women are by nature curious still;  
And yet till now thou never craved to know,  
More than I pleased t'impart of my free will.   

Nought save the wife a man within the walls,  
Nor nought save him without fits her t'embrace:  
And it's unseemly though it sometime falls,  
When any sex usurps another's place.   

deer, their wonted course thy cares enure;  
I may have matters that import the state,  
Whose opening up might my disgrace procure,  
Whose weight would for thy weakness be too great.   Port. 

I was not (Brutus) matched with thee, to be  
A partner only of thy board and bed,  
Each servile whore in those might equal me,  
That did herself to nought but pleasure wed;   

No, Portia spoused thee with a mind t'abide  
Thy fellow in all fortunes, good, or ill.  
With chains of mutual love together tied,  
As those that have two breasts, one heart, two souls, one will.   

With sacred bands whom holy Hymen binds,  
They tween them should communicate all things;  
Yea both the bodies labours, and the minds,  
Whence either pleasure or displeasure springs.   

If thus thou seek thy sorrows to conceal  
Through a disdain, or a mistrust of me;  
Then to the world what way can I reveal,  
How great a matter I would do for thee.   

And though our sex too talkative be deemed,  
As those whose tongues import our greatest powers,  
For secrets still bad treasurers esteemed  
Of others greedy, prodigal of ours;   

Good education may reform defects,  
And I this vantage have t'a virtuous life,  
Which other minds do want, and mine respects:  
I'm Cato's daughter, and I'm Brutus' wife;   

Yet would I not repose my trust in aught,  
Still thinking that thy cross was great to bear,  
Till that my courage was t'a trial brought,  
Which suffering for thy cause can nothing fear.   

For first t'experience how I could comport,  
With stern afflictions spirit-enfeebling blows,  
Ere I would seek t'assault thee in this sort,  
To whom my soul a duteous reverence owes.   

Lo, here a wound, which makes me not to smart,  
Though by myself being made, to make me known,  
Since thy distress strikes deeper in my heart,  
Thy grief (life's joy) makes me neglect mine own.   Brut. 

Thou must (dear love) that which thou sought receive,  
Thy heart so high a sail t'a tempest bears,  
That thy great courage doth deserve to have  
Our enterprise entrusted to thine ears.   

Thy magnanimity prevails so far,  
That it my resolution must control:  
And of my bosom doth the depths unbar,  
To lodge thee in the centre of my soul.   

Thou seest in what a state the state now stands,  
Of whose strong pillars Caesar spoiled the best:  
Whilst by his own preventing others hands,  
Our famous father fell amongst the rest.   

That insolent usurper doth presume  
To re-erect detested Tarquin's throne,  
Thus the world's mistress all-commanding Rome,  
Must entertain no minion now but one.   

Th'old blood of Mars that marks to what he tends,  
Swells with disdain, their countries scorn to see,  
And I'm one of the number that intends  
By his death, or mine own, to be made free.   Port. 

And without me can thou resolve so soon  
T'assay the dangers of a doubtful strife?  
As if despaired and always to b'undone,  
Being tired of me, yea tired of thy life.   

Yet since thou thus thy rash design hath shown,  
Leave portia's portion, venture not her part:  
Endanger nought but that which is thine own,  
Go where thou lik'st, I will hold still thy heart.   

But lest by holding of thy best part back,  
That th'other perish t'aggravate my groans,  
That would be so thought guilty of thy wrack,  
Take all thy treasure to the Seas at once.   

Like th'Asian monarchs wife that with short hairs,  
(Sad signs of bondage) past still where he passed,  
To wear away, or bear away thy cares,  
I'll follow thee, and of thy fortune taste.   

These hands that were with my own blood imbrued,  
To strike another may more strength afford:  
At least when thou by th'enemy art pursued,  
I'll set myself betwixt thee and his sword.  
But if too great a privilege I claim,  
Whose actions all should be disposed by thee:  
Ah, pardon me (dear Brutus,) do but blame  
These my excessive sorrows, and not me.   Brut. 

Thou ask'st what thou shouldst give, forgive dear mate,  
This venturous course of mine, which must have place,  
Though it make fortune tyrant of our state,  
Whose fickle footsteps virtue grieves to trace.   

And wonder not, though this towards thee I prove,  
Since private passions now all power have left;  
For I regard not glory, profit, love,  
Nor no respect that doth import me most:   

So to the land of which I hold my life,  
I may perform the work that I intend,  
Let me be called unkind unto my wife:  
Yea worst of all, ingrate unto my friend:   

But as th'instinct of nature makes us know,  
There are degrees of duty to be passed:  
Of which the first we to th'immortals owe,  
The next t'our Country, and t'our friends the last.   

Proud tyrants from his native bounds to drive,  
Did th'author of my race with ardent zeal,  
Make those to die whom he had made to live,  
And spoiled himself to advance the commonweal?   

To raise the state which Caesar now o'erthrows,  
That bred so many brave men whilst it stood,  
He with the Tyrant interchanging blows,  
Most gloriously did offer up his blood.   

And did that man t'oppress the common foe,  
Then damn his sons to death? and with dry eyes?  
And is his successor degenered so,  
That he in abject bondage basely lies?   

No, his posterity his name not stains,  
That t'imitate his steps doth yet draw near;  
Yet of his spirit in us some spark remains,  
That more than life our liberty hold dear.   Port. 

Then prosecute thy course, for I protest,  
Though with some grief, my soul the same approves:  
This resolution doth become thy breast,  
Where in the sphere of honour virtue moves.   

And do this enterprise no more defer,  
What thee contents, to me contentment brings;  
I to my life thy safety do prefer,  
But hold thy honour dear above all things.   

It would but let the world my weakness see,  
If I sought my delights, not thy desires:  
Though it give grief, and threaten death to me,  
Go follow forth that which thy fame requires.   

Though nature, sex, and education breed  
No power in me, that's with my purpose even;  
He lend assistance to th'intended deed,  
If vows and prayers may penetrate the heaven:   

But difficulties huge my fancy finds,  
Save the success nought can defray my fear:  
Ah, Fortune always frowns on worthy minds,  
As hating all that trust in ought save her.   

Yet I despair not but thou may prevail,  
And by this course t'appease my present groans,  
I this advantage have which cannot fail,  
I'll be a freeman's wife, or else be nonce.   

For if all prosper not as we pretend,  
And that the heavens Rome's bondage do decree,  
Straight with thy liberty my life shall end,  
Who have no comfort but what comes from thee.   

My father hath me taught what way to die,  
By which if I be barred t'encounter death,  
Another means (though far more strange) I'll try,  
For after Brutus none shall see me breath.   Brut. 

Thou for my cause abandoned others else,  
But now forsak'st thyself t'adhere to me,  
That of thy passions thus the power repels,  
And with thy mind discords with mine t'agree.   

I'll since by thee approved securely go,  
And vilipend the dangers of this life,  
Heavens make my enterprise to prosper so,  
That I prove worthy of so worthy a wife.   

But ah! of all thy words those grieve me most,  
That boast me with th'abridgement of thy days;  
What? though I in so good a cause were lost,  
None flies th'appointed fate that for him stays.   

Do not defraud the world of thy rare worth,  
But of thy Brutus the remembrance love,  
And from so fair a prison break not forth,  
Till first the fates have forced thee to remove.   Port. 

I fear the heavens have our confusion sworn,  
Since this ill age can with no good accord;  
Thou and my father (ah) should have been borne,  
When Virtue was advanced, and Vice abhorred.   

Then ere the light of virtue was declined,  
Your worth had reverenced been, not thrown away,  
Where now ye both have but in darkness shined,  
As stars by night, that had been suns by day.   Brut. 
My treasure, strive to pacify thy breast,  
Lest sorrows but sinistrously presage,  
That which thou would not wish, and hope the best,  
Though virtue now must act on Fortune's stage.  Exeunt. 

Chorus.  

THan liberty of earthly things  
What more delights a generous breast?  
That doth receive,  
And can conceive,  
The matchless treasure that it brings;  
It making men securely rest,  
As all perceive,  
Doth none deceive,  
Whilst weighed with doubts none balanced hangs,  
But feared for nought, doth what seems best:  
Then men are men when they are all their own,  
Not but by others badges when made known.  
Yet should we not mis-spending hours,  
A freedom seek, as oft it falls,  
With an intent,  
But to content  
These vain delights and appetites of ours,  
For then but being made greater thralls,  
We might repent,  
Our not being pent  
In stricter bounds by others' powers,  
Whilst fear licentious thoughts appals:  
Of all the tyrants that the world affords,  
Ones own affections are the fiercest Lords.  
As Libertines those only live,  
That from the bands of vice set free,  
Vile thoughts cancel,  
And seek t'excel  
In all that doth true glory give,  
From which whenas no tyrants be,  
Them to repel,  
And to compel  
They deeds against their thoughts to strive,  
They blestare in a high degree,  
For such of same the scrolls can hardly fill,  
Whose wit is bounded by another's will.  
That Rome from Tarquin's yoke redeemed,  
Who first obtained,  
And then maintained  
Their liberty so dearly loved;  
They from all things that odious seemed,  
Though not constrained,  
Themselves restrained,  
And willingly all good approved,  
Bent to be much, yet well esteemed;  
And how could such but aim at some great end,  
Whom liberty did lead, and glory attend?  
They leading valorous legions forth,  
Though wanting kings, triumphed over kings,  
And still aspired,  
By Mars inspired  
To conquer all from South to North;  
Then lending Fame their Eagles wings,  
They all acquired,  
That was required,  
To make them rare for rarest things,  
The world being witness of their Worth:  
Thus those great minds that domineered over all.  
Did make themselves first free, than others thrall:  
But we that hold nought but their name,  
From that to which they in times gone,  
Did high ascend,  
Must low descend,  
And bound their glory with our shame.  
Whilst on an abject tyrant's throne  
We basely attend,  
And do intend,  
Us for our fortune still to frame,  
Not it for us, and all for one:  
As liberty a courage doth impart,  
So bondage doth disbend, else break the heart.  
Yet O who knows but Rome to grace,  
Another Brutus may arise,  
That may effect  
What we affect:  
And Tarquin's steps make Caesar trace,  
Though seeming dangers to despise,  
He doth suspect,  
What we expect,  
Which from his breast hath banished peace,  
Though fairly he his fears disguise:  
Of tyrants th'injury revenge affords,  
All fear but theirs, and they fear all men's swords.      

ACT. IIII.  

SCENE. I.  Decius Brutus Albinus, Marcus Brutus. Caius Cassius. 

Dear cousin, Cassius did acquaint mine ears,  
With a design that tossed my mind a space,  
For when strange news a stranger's breath first bears,  
Then should not trust t'each rash report give place.   

I would not then discover what I thought:  
Lest he t'entrap my tongue a snare had framed,  
Till I with thee t'a conference first was brought,  
Whom he for patron of his purpose named.   

One should beware to whom his mind he leaves,  
In dangerous times when tales by walls are told,  
Men make themselves most miserably slaves,  
Of those to whom their secrets they unfold.   M. Bru. 

As Cassius told thee pitying Rome's distress,  
That t'our disgrace in bondage doth remain,  
We straight intend whatever we profess,  
With Caesar's blood to wash away this stain.   

Though for this end a few sufficient are,  
To whom their virtue courage doth impart,  
Yet were we loath to wrong thy worth so far,  
As of such glory to give thee no part.   

Since both this cause, and that thy name thee bind,  
In this adventurous band to be comprised,  
There needs no rhetoric to raise thy mind,  
That t'execute which thou should have devised.   D. Bru. 

I thought no creature should my purpose know  
But he whose interest promised mutual cares,  
Of those to whom one would his secrets show,  
No greater pledge of trust than to know theirs.   

As when two meet being masked (though whiles near friends)  
With them as strangers no respect takes place,  
But when that friendship one of them pretends,  
Then th'other likewise doth uncloud his face:   

So as thou first, I'll now at last be bold  
My breast with the same birth long great hath gone,  
Yet I t'another durst it not unfold,  
Nor yet attempt to compass it alone.   

But since this course, of which I long did pause,  
On such great pillars now so strongly stands,  
Whose countenance may give credit t'any cause,  
It hath my heart, and it shall have my hands.   C. Cass. 

T'our enterprise propitious signs are sent,  
So that the gods would give us courage thus,  
For all that ever heard of our intent,  
Would willingly engage themselves with us,   

Let other men discourse of virtuous rites,  
Ours but by th'action only should be shown,  
Bare speculation is but for such sprites,  
As want of power or courage keeps unknown,   

In those that Virtue view when crowned with deeds,  
Whose beauties through the glass of glory shined,  
Sh'a violent desire t'embrace her breeds,  
As th'adamant to th'yrne being to the mind.   

What though a number now in darkness lies,  
That are too weak for matters of such weight,  
We that are eminent in all men's eyes,  
Let us still hold the height of honour straight.   M. Br. 

Whilst that our faction might be strengthened thus  
I laboured much to purchase all their powers,  
Whom hate towards Caesar, love to Rome, or t'us,  
Might move t'embark in those great hopes of ours.   

By sickness being imprisoned in his bed,  
Whilst I Ligarius spied whom pains did prick,  
When I had said with words that anguish bred,  
In what a time Ligarius art thou sick.   

He answered straight as I had physic brought,  
Or that he had imagined my design,  
If worthy of thyself thou wouldst do aught,  
Then Brutus I am whole, and wholly thine.   

Since Caesar caused him be accused of late,  
For taking Pompey's part, yet at this hour,  
He (though absolved) doth still the tyrant hate,  
For being endangered by his lawless power.   

Whilst it exasperates thus such great sprites spites,  
Heaven of our course the progress doth direct,  
One inspiration all our souls incites,  
That have advisedly sworn this fact t'effect.   D. Br. 
So I with Cicero did confer at length,  
Who I perceive the present state detests,  
And though that age diminished have his strength,  
In him a will t'avenge his country rests.  M. Br. 

That man whose love still towards his country shined,  
Would willingly the commonwealth restore,  
Than he I know, though he conceals his mind,  
None Caesar more dislikes, nor likes us more.   

Yet to his custody I'll not commit,  
The secrets of our enterprise so soon,  
Men may themselves be oftentimes not fit,  
To do the things that they would wish were done,   

He still being timorous, and by age grown worse,  
Might chance to lay our honour in the dust,  
All cowards must inconstant be of force,  
With bold designs none fearful breasts can trust.   

Then some of ours would hold their hands still pure,  
That ere they be suspected, for a space  
Amidst the tumult may remain secure,  
And with the people mediate our peace.   

But who than Tullius fitter for that turn,  
Whose eloquence is used t'enchant their ears?  
His banishment they in black gowns did mourn,  
Whose age and merits each one reverence bears.   C. Cass. 

Those studious wits that have through dangers gone,  
Would still be out, ere that they enter in;  
Who must of many things, resolve of none,  
And thinking of the end, cannot begin.   

The mind that looks no further than the eye,  
And more to Nature trusts, than unto Art,  
Such doubtful fortunes fittest is to try,  
A furious actor for a desperate part.   

We have enough, and of the best degree,  
Whose hands are to their hearts, their hearts t'us true,  
And if that we seek more, I fear we be   

T' act close too many, if disclosed, too few.  
Let us advise with an industrious care,  
Now ere the tyrant intercept our minds;  
The time, the place, the manner, when, and where,  
That we should trust our treasure to the winds.   

And since our fortunes in the balance hang,  
Let every point be circumspectly weighted,  
A circumstance, or an indifferent thing,  
May whiles mar all for not being well conveyed.   M. Br. 

As for the time, none could be wished more fit,  
Than this that's present to perform our vow,  
Since all the people must allow of it,  
Moved by a recent miscontentment now.   

When represented in his triumph past,  
Great Cato's mangled entrails made them weep,  
And desperate Scipio whilst he leapt at last,  
To seek a Sanctuary amidst the depth.   

Then all those great men that in several parts,  
Bent for Rome's freedom Caesar did overthrow,  
Did by their pictures pierce the people's hearts,  
And made a piteous (though a pompous) show.   

So that they did conceive a just disdain,  
To be upbraided in so strange a sort,  
Whilst he that only by their loss did gain  
Of their calamity but made a sport.   

But yet his purpose grieves them most of all,  
Since that he strives to be proclaimed a King,  
And not contents himself to make us thrall,  
But to perpetual bondage would us bring.   

Thus whilst the people are with him displeased,  
We best may do that which t'our part belongs;  
For after this they may be best appeased,  
If whilst their wrath doth last we venge their wrongs.   

And since we naught intend but what is right,  
Whilst from our country we remove disgrace:  
Let all be acted in the senate's sight,  
A common cause, and in a common place.   

Let those whose guilty thoughts do damn their deeds  
In corners like Minerva's birds abide:  
That which t'our country good, t'us glory breeds,  
May by the lights of heaven and earth be tried.   

The Senators by our ensample moved,  
Pleased with this action that imports them too,  
To have the yoke of tyranny removed,  
May at the least authorize what we do.   

So all the Senators were said of old,  
To have king Romulus amongst them torn:  
That than to tyrannize was grown too bold,  
And from his first humanity had worn.   D. Brut. 
Yea, what though Caesar were immortal made  
As Romulus, whose deity him revives?  
It's easier as a God t'adore him dead,  
Then as a king t'obey him whilst he lives.  C. Cass. 

That place indeed, most for our glory makes,  
A Theater worthy of so great an act:  
Where in their sight from whom most power he takes,  
We of the tyrant vengeance may exact.   

But I must recommend unto your mind,  
A course (though strict) of which we must allow,  
lest it o'erthrow all that we have designed,  
Being past recovery, if neglected now,   

There is Antonius Caesar's greatest friend,  
A man whose nature tyranny affects,  
Whom all the soldiers do delight t'attend,  
As one that nought but to command respects.   

I fear that he when we have Caesar slain,  
To th'other faction furnish still a head:  
So when we end, we must begin again,  
Against one living worse than he that's dead.   

And in my judgement, I would think it best,  
When sacrificed the proud usurper lies,  
That that seditious enemy of rest,  
Should fall with him with whom he first did rise,   

Thus of our liberty we now may lay,  
A solid ground that can be shaked by none:  
Those of their purpose that a part delay  
Two labours have, that might have had but one.   M. Brut. 

I cannot Cassius condescend to kill  
(Thus from the path of justice to decline)  
One faultless yet, lest after he prove ill,  
So to prevent his guiltiness by mine.   

No, no, that neither honest were, nor just,  
Which rigorous form would but the world affright:  
Men by this mean our meaning might mistrust,  
And for a little wrong damn all that's right;   

If we but only kill the common foe,  
Our zeal t'our country must acquire due praise:  
But if like Tyrants tyrannising so,  
We will be thought that which we raze to raise.   

And where we but intend t'advance the state,  
Though by endangering what we hold most dear;  
If slaying him as armed e by private hate,  
We to the world still partial will appear.   

Ah, ah, we must but too much murder see,  
That without doing evil cannot do good:  
And would the gods that Rome could be made free,  
Without th'effusion of one drop of blood.   

Then their is hope that anthony in end,  
When first our virtue doth direct the way:  
Will leagued with us the liberty defend,  
And being brought back will blush for going astray.   C. Cass. 
Well Brutus, I protest against my will,  
From this black cloud, whatever tempest fall,  
That mercy but most cruelly doth kill.  
Which thus saves one, that once may plague us all.  D. Brut. 

When Caesar with the Senators sits down,  
In this your judgements generally accord;  
That for affecting wrongfully the crown,  
He lawfully may perish by the sword.   

No greater harm t'our purpose can be brought,  
Then by protracting of th'appointed time,  
lest that which acted would b'a virtue thought,  
Be (if prevented) constered as a crime.   

Can one thing long in many minds be pent?  
No, purposes would never be delayed  
That are interpreted but by th'event,  
If prospering reason, treason if betrayed.   

There may amongst ourselves some man remain,  
Whom if afraid, his pardon to procure,  
Or if being greedy for the hope of gain,  
Time to disclose his consorts may allure.   

Then ruin for our recompense we reap,  
If aught our course by being abortive mar,  
For if discovered once, we cannot scape,  
As tyrant's ears hear much, their hands reach far.   C. Cass. 

The breast in which so deep a secret dwells,  
Would not be long charged with so weighty cares,  
For I conjecture by appearance else,  
Mo privy are t'our minds than we to theirs:   

Even but of late one Casca came to see,  
That curious was to have our purpose known,  
And said to him that which thou bidst from me,  
To me by Brutus hath at length been shown.   

Then by some things that he had learned before,  
He of our course deep in discourse did fall,  
Till Casca thinking that he had known more,  
Scarce kept his tongue from staggering out with all.   

Then Laena to us once came in like sort,  
And wished that our design might prosper well;  
Yet us to haste did earnestly exhort,  
Since others told what we refused to tell:   

Whilst strangers rest familiar with our mind,  
And ere t'our knowledge thus t'our counsel rise,  
Make forward fast, or we will come behind.  
Fame winged with breath most violently flies.   M. Brut. 

Their words but from uncertainties burst forth,  
For whilst considering of their bondage thus:  
Of Caesar's tyranny, and of our worth,  
They think this should be done, and done by us:   

Such conjurations to confirm of old,  
Some drinking others bloods; swore on their swords,  
And cursing those that did their course unfold,  
Used imprecations, execrable words.   

And yet then this though voluntarily vowed,  
Free from all bonds, save that which virtue binds,  
More constantly no course was still allowed.  
Till now that th'end must manifest our minds.   

And since so many frankly keep their faith,  
Still what they first designed t'accomplish bent:  
No doubt in spite of fickle fortune's wrath,  
But the success shall yield our souls content.   

Might some few Thebans from the Spartans pride,  
By divers tyrants' deaths redeem their town?  
And one Athenian that his virtue tried,  
By thirty Tyrants ruins win renown?   

And to the Greeks are we inferior grown,  
That where they have so many tyrants spoiled,  
There cannot one be by us all o'erthrown,  
Whose state yet brangling may be soon embroiled?   

O I'm resolved, and with my thoughts decree,  
whatever fortune either sweet or sour,  
I shall my soil from tyranny set free,  
Or then myself free from the tyrant's power.   D. Br. 

By Lepidus invited this last night,  
Whilst Caesar went to sup, and I with him,  
Of all death's shapes to talk we took delight,  
So at the table to beguile the time.   

And whilst our judgements all about were tried,  
Straight Caesar (as transported) to the rest  
With a most sudden exclamation cried,  
O, of all deaths unlooked for death is best.   

For from ourselves it steals ourselves so fast,  
That even the mind no fearful form can see,  
Then is the pain ere apprehended past,  
All sours ere tasted would digested be.   

The threatened destiny thus he divined,  
It would appear divinely being inspired,  
For now I hope that he shall shortly find,  
That form of death which he himself desired.   C. Cass. 

Whilst of our band the fury flames most hot,  
And that their will t'achieve this work is such,  
Lest Caesar's absence disappoint the plot,  
Which would of some abate the courage much,   

It (Decius) were exceedingly well done,  
That to his lodging you addressed your way,  
Him by some means to further forward soon,  
Lest by some sudden chance allured to stay.   D. Br. 

There where the Senate minds this day to sit,  
Stand all prepared t'approach where danger dwells,  
And for the sacrifice when all is fit,  
I'll bring an offering consecrated else.   Exeunt  

ACT. IV. SCENE II.  Caesar, Calphurnia, Decius Brutus. 

Long-looked for time that should the glory yield,  
Which I through Neptune's trustless reign have sought,  
And through the dust of many a bloody field,  
As by all dangers worthy to be bought.   

Thy coming now those lowering shadows clears,  
That did th'horizon of my hopes o'ercast,  
This day defrays the toils of many years,  
And brings the harvest of all my labours past.   

The Senators a messenger have sent,  
Most earnestly entreating me to come,  
And hear myself discerned by their consent,  
To wear a crown over all excepting Rome.   

Thus they devise conditions at this hour,  
For him, of whom Mars hath made them the prey;  
As subjects limit could their sovereign's power,  
That must have mind of nought but to obey.   

But having pacified those present things,  
I mind to lead my valorous legions forth,  
To th'oriental realms, adoring kings  
That can exhibit honours due to worth.   

Than swim my thoughts in th'Ocean of delight,  
Whilst on the pillow of soft praise reposed,  
Those eyes to gaze upon my glory's light,  
That envy opened, admiration closed.   Cal. 

Ah, though your fancies great contentment find,  
Whilst thus the world your virtue doth advance,  
Yet a preposterous terror stings my mind,  
And boasts me with I know not what mischance,   

My wavering hopes o'erbalanced are with fears,  
That to my soul sinistrous signs impart,  
And ominous rumours so assault mine ears,  
That they almost make breaches in my heart.   Caesar. 

What, do debattled Pompey's followers strive  
To recollect their ruins from the dust?  
Dare they that only by my tolerance live,  
More to their strength than to my favour trust?   

Or dost thou fear his sons dejected state,  
That steals infamous flying through those floods,  
Which his great father, Admiral of late,  
Did plant with ships till all their waves seemed woods?   

Then makes his brother's death his courage more,  
Since by them straited in a bloody strife,  
ay, that in all the battles given before,  
Did fight for victory, then fought for life.   

Or whilst to march toward Parthia I prepare,  
Doth a suspicion thus afflict thy sprite,  
For Crassus' fortune feared that perished there,  
Th'opprobrious prey of the Barbarians spite?   

To those same bands that Cassius thence brought back,  
A place amongst my legions I'll allow,  
Whose foes shall find whilst they avenge th'old wrack  
Though the same sheep, another shepherd now.   

Do not imagine matters to bemoan,  
For whilst there stands a world, can Caesar fall?  
Though thousand thousands were conjured in one,  
ay, and my fortune might confound them all.   Cal. 

No, none of those my mind doth miscontent,  
That undisguised still like themselves remain,  
Unlooked for harms are hardest to prevent,  
There is no guard against concealed disdain,   

But in whom further can your trust repose,  
Whom danger now over all, by all attends,  
Where private men but only fear their foes,  
Oft kings have greatest cause to fear their friends,   

For since being trusted fittest to betray,  
Those unto whom ones favour force affords,  
May for his life the worst ambushments lay,  
Whilst falsest hearts are hid with fairest words.   

And some report (though privately) yet plain,  
That Dolabella and Antonius now,  
By your destruction do pretend t'obtain,  
That which you keep by making all men bow.   Caesar. 

No corpulent sanguinians make me fear,  
That with more pain their beards than th'enemies strike  
And do themselves like th'Epicureans bear,  
To Bacchus, Mars, and Venus borne alike.   

Their hearts do always in their mouths remain,  
As streams, whose murmuring shows the course not deep  
Then still they love to sport, though gross and plain,  
And never dream of aught but when they sleep.   

But those high sprites that hold their bodies down,  
Whose visage lean their restless thoughts records,  
Whilst they their cares depth in their bosoms drown,  
Their silence fears me more than th'other's words.   

Thus Cassius now and Brutus seem to hold  
Some great thing in their mind, whose fire whiles smocks  
What Brutus would, he vehemently would,  
Think what they like, I like not their pale looks.   

Yet with their worth this cannot well agree,  
In whom of virtue th'image seem to shine,  
Can those that have received their lives from me,  
Prove so ingrate again as to take mine?   

Dare Cassius me pursue new hopes to have,  
At th' Hellespont that fortune feared to try,  
And like a dastard did his Galleys leave,  
In all (save courage) though more strong than I?   

Shall I suspect that Brutus seeks my blood,  
Whose safety still I tendered with such care,  
Who when the heavens from mortals me seclude,  
Is only worthy to be Caesar's heir?   Cal. 

The corners of the heart are hard to know,  
Though of those two the world the best doth deem,  
Yet do not trust too much th'external show,  
For men may differ much from what they seem.   

None oft more fierce than those that look most mild,  
Impiety sometime appears devout,  
And that the world the more may be beguiled,  
Whiles Vice can clothe itself with virtues coat.   

Though that they have long since laid hatred down,  
By benefits bestowed, you might attend,  
There's no respect can counterpoise a crown,  
Ambition hath no bounds, nor greed no end.   

Through vindicative hate, and emulous pride,  
Since some your person, some your place pursue,  
All threatened dangers to prevent provide,  
Being wise in time, lest out of time you rue.   Caes. 
No armour is that can hold treason out.  Cal. 
T'affright your foes with bands be backed about.  Caes. 
So dastard tyrants strive themselves to bear.  Cal. 
It better is to give, than to take fear.  Caes. 
No stronger guard than is the people's love.  Calp. 
But nought in th'earth doth more inconstant prove.  Caes. 
Guards showing fear t'invade me men might tempt.  Cal. 
Guards would put them from hope, you from contempt.  Caes. 
My breast from terror hath been always clear.  Cal. 
When one fears least, oft danger lurks most near.  Caes. 
It's better once to die, than still fear death.  Cal. 
But worst of all to fall by th'enemies' wrath.  Caes. 

I'll not distaste my present pleasures so,  
By apprehending what may chance to come,  
This world affords but too much time for woe,  
Whilst crosses come contentment to o'ercome.   

By joys in time we must embrace relief,  
That when they end, we in some measure may,  
By their remembrance mitigate the grief,  
Which still attends all those on th'earth that stay.   

I think the Senate is assembled now,  
And for my coming doth begin to gaze,  
I'll go condignly once t'adorn my brow,  
And feast mine ears by drinking in due praise.   Cal. 

Stay, stay (dear Lord) retire thy steps again,  
And spare one day to prorogate whole years,  
Let not this ominous day begin thy reign,  
That fatal and unfortunate appears.   

An Astrologian through the world renowned,  
Thy horoscopes just calculation lays,  
And doth affirm as he by signs hath found,  
That th'Ides of March do boast to bound thy days.   

Walk not this days where harms may be received,  
Since by no great necessity being forced,  
For though his judgement may be far deceived,  
In things that touch thy life, suspect the worst.   Caes. 

Whilst I reformed the Calendar by fits,  
That long disordered th'order of the year;  
I waded through the depths of all their wits,  
That of the stars the mysteries make clear.   

Those pregnant sprites that walk betwixt the poles,  
And lodge at all the zodiacs several signs,  
Do read strange wonders wrapped in th'azure scrolls,  
Of which our deeds are words, our lives are lines.   

By speculation of superior powers,  
Some Nature's secrets curious are to know,  
As how celestial bodies rule over ours,  
And what their influence effects below.   

Yea they sometime may strange conjectures make,  
Of those whose parts they by their birth do prove,  
Since naturally all inclination take,  
From Planets then predominant above.   

And yet no certainty can so be had,  
Some virtuously against their stars have strived,  
As Socrates that grew, (though borne but bad,)  
The most accomplished man that ever lived.   

But of the hour ordained to close our lights,  
No earth-clogged soul can to the knowledge come;  
For O the destinies far from our sights,  
In clouds of darkness have involved our doom.   

And some but only guess at great men's falls,  
By bearded comets, and prodigious stars,  
Whose sight-distracting shapes the world appals,  
As still denouncing terror, death, or wars.   

The time uncertain is of certain death,  
And that fantastic man far past his bounds,  
He is too bold that with ambiguous breath,  
Not speaks of things to come, whose deeps none sounds   Cal. 

But this all day did my repose extort,  
And from my breast of cares a tribute claimed,  
Now vilipend not that which I'll report,  
Though but a dream, and by a woman dreamt.   

I thought (alas) the thought yet wounds my breast,  
Then whilst we both as those whom Morpheus weds,  
Lay softly buried with a pleasant rest,  
I in thy bosom, thou within the beds.   

Then from my soul strange terrors did withdraw  
Th'expected peace by apprehended harms;  
For I imagined, no, no doubt I saw,  
And did embrace thee bloody in mine arms.   

Thus whilst my soul by sorrows was surcharge,  
Of which huge weight it yet some burden bears;  
I big with grief two elements enlarged,  
Th'air with my sighs, the water with my tears.   Caesar. 

That which I heard, with thy report accords,  
Whilst thou all seemed dissolved in grief at once,  
A heavy murmuring made with mangled words,  
Was interrupted oft by tragic groans.   

The memory, but not the judgement makes  
Th'impression thus of passions in the brain,  
For what the soul most suffers when it wakes,  
With it asleep it doth turmoiled remain.   

From superstitious fears this care proceeds,  
Which still would watch o'er that which thou dost love,  
And in thy mind melancholy thus breeds,  
Which doth those strange imaginations move.   Cal. 

Ah, in so light account leave off to hold  
Those fatal warnings that the heavens have made,  
Which by all means most manifest unfold,  
What dangers huge do hang above thy head.   

He with the sacred garlands that divines,  
By th'entrails of the consecrated beast,  
Sees in the sacrifice sinistrous signs,  
And I entreat thee do not hence make haste.   Caes. 
When I in Spain against young Pompey went,  
Thus the diviner threatened me before,  
Yet did I prosecute my first intent,  
Which with new laurels did my brows decore.  Cal. 
And yet you hardly there as whiles I hear,  
From dangers (far engaged) redeemed your life,  
But now more monstrous tokens do appear,  
And I suspect far worse than open strife.  Caes. 

Lest I too much seem wedded to my will,  
As one that others counsels scorns t'allow,  
With jealous eyes I'll search about me still,  
And even mistrust myself to trust thee now.   

Yet if I stay the Senators deceived,  
May my beginning straight begin to hate,  
So might I perish seeking to be saved,  
By flying, many fall upon their fate.   

But here one comes that can resolve me much,  
With whom I use t'advise affairs of weight:  
Whence comest thou Decius, that thy haste is such?  
Is aught occurred that craves our knowledge straight?   Decius. 

I come to tell you how the Senate stays,  
Till your expected presence bless their sight,  
And the conclusion yet of all delays,  
Till that your approbation make it right.   

T'accomplish your contentment they intend,  
And all their thoughts seem at one object bent,  
Save that they do amongst themselves contend,  
Who you to please shall strangest ways invent.   Caes. 

Than that no treasure to my soul more dear,  
Which straight t'enjoy from hence I long to part,  
But yet I know not what arrests me here,  
And makes my feet rebellious to my heart.   

From thee (dear friend) I never do conceal  
The weightiest secrets that concern me most:  
And at this time I likewise will reveal,  
How heavens by signs me with destruction boast:   

To superstition though not being inclined,  
My wife by dreams doth now presage my fall:  
It a Soothsayer likewise hath divined,  
The sacrifice prodigious seems t'us all;   

So that till this disastrous day be gone,  
All company I purpose to disuse.  
And to the Senators I'll send some one  
To paint my absence with a fair excuse.   D. Brut. 

Do not repose on superstitious signs,  
You to suspect the people thus to bring,  
Whilst sovereign-like you limit their designs,  
Seem not a tyrant seeking to be king.   

How can we satisfy the world's conceit,  
Whose tongues still in all ears your praise proclaims?  
O! shall we bid them leave to deal in state,  
Till that Calphurnia first have better dreams?   

If that this day you private would remain,  
The Senate to dissolve yourself must go,  
And then incontinent come back again,  
When you have shown towards it some reverence so.   Caes. 
With thy advise (as powerful) I agree,  
The Senators shall have no cause to grudge:  
A little space, all part apart from me,  
And I'll be shortly ready to dislodge.  Caesar alone. 

WHence come this huge and admirable change,  
That in my breast hath uncouth thoughts infused?  
Doth th'earth then erst yield terrors now more strange,  
Or but my mind less courage than it used?   

What spiteful fate against my state contends,  
That I must now t'unlooked for plagues give place,  
By foes not moved, yet feared amongst my friends,  
By war secure, endangered but by peace?   

T'encounter me when strongest troops did come,  
Then did my heart the highest hopes conceive:  
I warred with many, many to overcome,  
The greatest battles, greatest glory gave.   

As th'enemies' number still my courage grew,  
Oft have I through the depths of dangers past,  
Yet never did those boundless labours rue,  
To have none greater first, none equal last.   

whenas the Gaules feared by their neighbours falls,  
Had from the fields, no, from my fury fled,  
And hid themselves with arms, their arms with walls,  
Whilst I my troops t'enclose Alexia led:   

Then though there swarmed forth from the bounds about,  
Huge hosts to compass me, inflamed with wrath,  
That the besieger being besieged about  
Seemed drawn with danger in the nets of death.   

Yet I that could not with the pride comport,  
That those Barbarians by vain boasts bewrayed,  
Did reassault th'assaulters in such sort,  
That words by wounds, wounds were by death repaid,   

Of those within the town t'assuage their toils,  
Till being o'er-comed their coming was not known:  
Who straight upbraided by the barbarous spoils,  
Did yield themselves with th'other's as o'erthrown,   

Then whilst with liquid legions tumid boasts,  
The trident-bearer strived my spoils to bear:  
Though threatened thrice amidst his humid hosts,  
I always scorned t'acquaint myself with fear.   

I used those Pirates that had me surprised,  
Still as my servants thundering threatenings forth,  
And gave them money more than they devised,  
Grieved to be rated at too little worth.   

Yet gathering ships, I signed not long the shore,  
But traced their printless steps through th'unpaved way:  
And taking them, as I had vowed before,  
By nought but death their ransom would defray.   

Then when without th'advise of others minds,  
Adventured through the hoary waves by night,  
Whilst in a little bark against great winds,  
That even the Pilot looked not for the light   

The roaring waves themselves seemed to divide,  
That in their gravel I might choose a grave.  
And in a crystal arch above me bide,  
That I of me a tomb might worthy have.   

Whilst dangers seemed to merit Caesar's death,  
As Neptune raised his head, raised my heart;  
And showing what I was with constant breath,  
t'amazed Amiclas courage did impart,   

Was I not once amidst large Nilus' flot,  
Whilst me to wound a wood of darts did fly,  
Yet swim'd so careless of my enemy's shot,  
That in my hand I held some papers dry?   

With open dangers thus in every place,  
I whilst being compassed both by sea and land,  
Did undismayed look horror in the face,  
As borne for nought but only to command.   

But since a world of victories have filled,  
With Trophies Temples, Theatres with my praise,  
That bathed with balm from th'oil of glory stilled,  
With friends in peace I looked to spend my days.   

The chambers music now affrights me more,  
Than once the trumpets sound amids the field,  
And gowns (though signs of peace) worse, than before  
The pompous splendour of a flaming shield.   

Those thoughts of late that had disdained to doubt,  
Though I alone had marched amongst my foes,  
Lo, whilst amongst my friends I'm backed about,  
Do greater dangers now then th'eyes disclose.   

If ought t'assemble any number brings,  
I insurrections fear from common wrath;  
Yea, if two talk apart of private things,  
Straight I suspect that they conspire my death.   

When sudden rumours rise from vulgar smoke,  
Whilst th'inward motions roll my restless eyes;  
I at each corner for ambushments look,  
And start astonished lest some tumult rise.   

When rising Titan's beams renew th'earth's toils,  
I still despair to re-enjoy the night,  
And when mine eyes th'all-covering darkness spoils,  
I never look t'enrich them with the light.   

For when that light with darkness makes a change,  
To flatter mortals with a dream of rest,  
What ugly Gorgon's, what chimeras strange,  
Do boast the little world within my breast?   

Th'appointed time t'appease impetuous cares  
Doth double mine, that view most when being blind:  
I apprehend huge horrors and despairs,  
Whilst th'outward object not distract my mind.   

What comfort of my conquests now remains?  
Where is the peace pursued by many a strife?  
Have I but taken pain t'abound in pains,  
And sought by dangers for a dangerous life?   

Is this the period of aspiring powers,  
In promised calms to be most plagued by storms?  
Lurk poisonous serpents under fairest flowers.  
And hellish furies under heavenly forms?   

It will not grieve my ghost below to go,  
If circumvented in the wars I end,  
As bold Marcellus by Rome's greatest foe,  
That gave his ashes honour as a friend.   

Or like Epaminondas prosperous death,  
O would to God I had amidst th'alarms  
Being charged with recent spoils, been spoiled of breath,  
Whilst I toward Pluto might have marched in arms.   

Yet t'end this life that nought but toils affords,  
I'll pay to death the tribute that he owes,  
Straight with my blood set some come die their swords,  
My body shall be bared t'embrace their blows.   

But ah, how have the furies seized my breast,  
And poisoned thus my spirit with desperate rage:  
That with their horrid serpents barred from rest,  
Nought can imagined be my toils t'assuage.   

No, Atropos, yet spare my thread a space,  
That ere I to the Stygian streams go down,  
I may of honour have the highest place,  
And if I fall, yet fall beneath a crown.   

Whilst I would bend my ears t'applauding shouts,  
My thoughts divided are within my breast,  
And my tossed soul doth float between two doubts,  
Yet knows not on what ground to build her rest.   

The Senators they have this day designed,  
To show the world how they esteem my worth;  
Yet do portentous signs perturb my mind,  
By which the heavens would point my danger forth;   

The gods from me with indignation gone,  
Have charactered in every thing my death,  
And must both heaven and earth conspire in one,  
To quench a little spark of still-tossed breath?   

My safety would that I should stay within,  
Till this disastrous day give darkness place:  
But honour hunts me forward to begin,  
To reap the glory of my painful race:   

And I'll advance in spite of threatened broils,  
For though the fates effect that which we dream,  
When death retires from forcing those frail spoils,  
Though breathless, I'll be breathed over all by fame.   Exit. 

Chorus.  

WHat fury 'is this that fills the breast,  
With a prodigious rash desire,  
Which banishing their souls from rest  
Doth make those live that high aspire,  
Whilst it within their bosom boils  
As Salamanders in the fire,  
Or like to serpents changing spoils  
Their withered beauties to renew:  
Like Vipers with unnatural toils,  
Of such the thoughts themselves pursue,  
That for all lines themselves do square,  
Whilst like Chameleons changing hue,  
They only feed but on the air.  
To pass ambition monstrous matters brings.  
And (save contentment) can attain all things.  
This active passion doth disdain  
To match with any vulgar mind,  
As in base breasts where terrors reign,  
too great a guest to be confined;  
It doth but lofty thoughts frequent,  
Where it a spacious field may find,  
itself with honour to content,  
Where reverenced fame doth loudest sound:  
Those at great things that t'aim are bent,  
(Far lifted from this lumpish round)  
Would in the sphere of glory move,  
Whilst lofty thoughts which nought can bind,  
All rivals live in virtues love:  
On abject preys as th'Eagle never lights,  
Ambition poisons but the greatest sprights.  
And of this restless vulture's brood,  
If't grow not to too great a flame,  
A little spark may whiles do good,  
Which makes great minds affecting fame,  
To suffer still all kind of pain:  
There fortune at the bloody game,  
Who hazard would for hope of gain.  
Were not burned by a thirst of praise:  
The learned lo, t'a higher strain,  
Their wits by emulation raise,  
As those that hold applauses dear:  
And what great mind at which men gaze,  
itself can of ambition clear,  
Which is being rated at the highest price,  
A generous error, a heroic vice.  
But when this frenzy flaming bright  
Doth so the souls of some surprise,  
That they can taste of no delight  
But what from sovereignty doth rise;  
Then huge affliction it affords,  
Such must themselves so to disguise,  
Prove prodigal of courteous words,  
Give much to some, and promise all,  
Then servile seem, to be made Lords,  
Yea first being made to many thrall,  
Must pity impart if not support,  
T'all those that crushed by fortune fall,  
And grieve themselves to please each sort:  
Are not those wretched that over a dangerous snare  
hang but by hopes, being balanced in the air?  
Then when they have the port attained,  
That was through Seas of dangers sought,  
They (lo) at last but loss have gained,  
And by great trouble, trouble bought.  
There minds are married still with fears,  
T'engender many a jealous thought,  
With searching eyes and watching ears,  
To learn that which they grieve to know.  
The breast that such a burden bears,  
What huge afflictions toil t'o'erthrow:  
Thus princes are as all perceive,  
No more exalted than brought low,  
Of many a Lord, to many a slave.  
That idol greatness which th'earth doth adore,  
Is conquered with great pain, and kept with more  
He that to this imagined good,  
Did through his country's entrails tend,  
Neglecting friendship, duty, blood,  
And all on which trust can depend,  
Or by which love could be conceived,  
Doth find of what he did attend,  
His expectations far deceived;  
For since suspecting secret snares,  
His soul hath still of rest been reaved.  
Whilst squadrons of tumultuous cares,  
Forth from his breast extort depth groans:  
Thus Caesar now of life despairs,  
Whose hap his hope exceeded once,  
And who can long well keep an evil won state?  
Those perish must by some whom all men hate.      

ACT. V.  

SCENE. I.  Marcus Brutus, Chorus, Antonius, Caius Cassius, Marcus Tullius Cicero. 

A Regenerous Romans so degenered now,  
That they from honour have estranged their hands?  
And used with burdens do not blush to bow,  
Yea (though being broken) shake not off their bands.   

This glorious work was worthy of your pain,  
Whose best ye may by others dangers have,  
But what enchants you thus that ye abstain,  
That (which ye should have taken) to receive?   

Where be those inundations of delight,  
That should burst out through thoughts o'erflowed with joy,  
Whilst emulous virtue may your minds incite,  
That which we conquered have, at least t'enjoy?   

Or quite conformed unto your former state,  
Do still your minds of servitude allow,  
As broken by adversity of late,  
Not capable of better fortune now?   

Lo, we that by the tyrant's favour stood,  
And grieved but at the yoke that you outraged,  
Have our advancement, riches, rest, and blood,  
All liberally for liberty engaged.   Chor. 

Thou like thy great progenitor in this,  
Hast glory to thyself, t'us freedom brought,  
Than liberty what greater treasure is?  
Small with it much, without it much seems nought.   

But pardon us (heroic man) though we  
T'a high perfection hardly can aspire,  
Though every man cannot a Brutus be,  
That which we cannot imitate, w'admire.   

At this strange course with too much light made blind  
We our opinions must suspend a space,  
When any sudden chance dismays the mind,  
The judgement to the passion first gives place,   Ant. 

What wonder now though this most barbarous deed,  
Have with amazement closed your judgement in,  
Which O I fear shall great confusion breed,  
When Caesar's toils did end, Rome's did begin.   

The most suspicious minds had not believed,  
That Romans reverenced for their worth by us,  
Would have presumed to kill, yea, or t'have grieved,  
A inviolable hallowd body thus.   

Who would but once have dreamt of such despite?  
What strange hostility in time of peace,  
To slay, though not accused, against all right,  
A sacred man, and in a sacred placed   C Cass. 

If Caesar as a Citizen had lived,  
And had by law decided every strife,  
Than I would grant those treason had contrived,  
That went without a law to take his life.   

But to pervert the laws, subvert the state,  
If all his travels did directly tend,  
Than I must say, we did no wrong of late,  
Why should not tyrants make a tragic end?   Chor. 

Since destinies did Caesar's soul enlarge,  
What course can we for his recovery take?  
Ah, th'unrelenting Charon's restless barge  
Stands to transport all over, but brings none back.   

Of life's frail glass when broken, with vain groans  
What earthly power the ruins can repair?  
Or who can gather up when scattered once,  
Ones blood from th'earth, or yet his breath from th'air?   

Let us of those that pass Oblivions flood,  
B'oblivious still since hope of help is gone,  
And spend our cares where cares may do most good,  
Lest Rome wail many, where she wails but one.   Ant. 

Still concord for the commonweal were best,  
To reconcile divided thoughts again,  
Then discord to great towns no greater pest,  
Whose violence no reverence can restrain.   

Yet oftentimes those wary wits have erred,  
That would buy wealth and ease at any cost,  
Let honesty to profit be preferred,  
And t'a vile peace, war when it wounds us most.   

But seeking peace what surety can we find?  
Can faithless men give faith just fears to stay?  
No sacred band impiety can bind,  
That swears for trust, seeks trust but to betray.   

What helped it Caesar that we all had sworn,  
His body still from dangers to redeem,  
Those that are once perjured hold oaths in scorn,  
All are most frank of what they least esteem.   M. Br. 

None needs in states that are from tyrants free,  
loathed execrations to confirm his will,  
Where willingly men would with good agree,  
And without danger might despise all ill.   

All odious oaths by those are only craved,  
Whose suit from reason doth a warrant want,  
Whilst all deceivers feared to be deceived,  
Seek of men thralled what none being free would grant   

When Caesar had prevailed in Libya and Spain,  
His fortune building on his country's wrack,  
Of liberty a shadow to retain,  
We gave him all that he was bent to take.   

The Senate had reserved nought but a show,  
Whose course to it by Caesar was imposed,  
That lifted up by bringing others low,  
Of offices and provinces disposed.   

Then that our withered hopes might never spring,  
When bent t'abide the Parthians wooden shower,  
He for five years disposed of every thing,  
Even in his absence leaving us no power.   

O how some aggravate our deed with hate,  
That dared by violence his body strain,  
Though consecrated by constraint of late,  
Yea but reputed holy, yet profane,   

And do forget how he (a wondrous case)  
Did violate the tribune ship t'our scorn,  
Which our forefathers (free) in time of peace,  
advisedly had inviolable sworn.   

Did he not once appropriate (swollen with wrath)  
The public treasure to his private use,  
And to the sacred Tribune threatened death,  
That did resist, grieved at so great abuse?   

tween Romans and a tyrant what avails  
A covenant whilst right rests trod on thus?  
Who can build further when the ground first fails?  
Could we save him that sought to ruin us?   Cic. 

So absolutely good no man remains,  
Whose natural weakness never him beguiles,  
Even virtues die from vice may take some stains,  
And worthy minds foul imperfections whiles.   

As in fine fruits or weeds fat earth abounds,  
Even as the labourers spend or spare their pain,  
The greatest sprites disdaining vulgar bounds,  
Of what they seek the highest height must gain.   

They, that the crown of glory may b'enjoyed,  
As only borne to be in action still,  
Had rather be (than idle) evil employed,  
Great sprites must do great good, or then great ill.   

The glorious Sun that golden rays do arm,  
The treasure of the world that doth most good,  
Whilst on a time misgoverned did much harm,  
Till th'overbold Coachman fell amidst a flood.   

Then whilst he by the rules of reason lived,  
When lawfully elected by the State,  
What glorious deeds by Caesar were achieved,  
Which all the world as wonders must relate.   

But when of right he buried all respects,  
As blind ambition had bewitched his mind,  
What harm ensued by pitiful effects.  
We at the first, he at the last did find.   

Whilst like Narcissus with himself in love,  
He with our bondage banqueted his sight,  
And for a while uncertain joys to prove,  
Would sauce with all our sorrows his delight,   

How could such gallant virtuous men as those,  
That of their country's weal are jealous still,  
But stoutly to all storms their states expose,  
So th'author of their infamy to kill?   

But since our freedom flows from Caesar's blood,  
Let us embrace that which too long we lack,  
Peace gives to justice power, and it t'all good,  
Where war breeds wrong, and wrong all kind of wrack.   

This city hath experienced with great pain,  
Th'all-burdening troubles of intestine strife,  
Which by her ruins registered remain,  
Since first the Gracchi gave contention life.   

When Silla once and Marius (mad through pride)  
Seemed but to strive who most tyrannic proved,  
What memorable miseries were tried  
From Romans minds can never be removed.   

Then last by Caesar and his son in law,  
What thousands ghosts to Pluto were dispatched?  
Ah that the world those hosts divided saw,  
Which joined in one no world of worlds had matched.   

Yet with this wit that we have dearly bought,  
Let us abhor th'appearance of such broils,  
Lest when we have ourselves to ruin brought,  
In end Barbarians bear away our spoils.   Chor. 

Rome to those great men hardly can afford,  
A recompense according to their worth,  
That by a tyrant's o'erthrow have restored,  
The light of liberty that was put forth.   

Yet by due praises with their merits even,  
Let us illustrate their illustrious minds,  
And to their charge let provinces be given;  
Still virtue grows when it preferrment finds.   Anton. 

Those barbarous realms by whose respective will,  
Of Caesar's conquests monuments are shown,  
As if they held them highly honoured still,  
That warred with Caesar though they were o'erthrown.   

Can this disgrace by their proud minds be borne,  
Whilst we dishonour whom they honour thus,  
And shall we not (whilst as a tyrant torn,)  
Give him a tomb that gave the world to us?   

Must his decrees be all reduced again,  
And those degraded whom he graced of late,  
As worthy men unworthily did gain  
Their rooms of reputation in the state?   

If as a tyrant we him damn so soon,  
And for his murderers do rewards devise,  
Then what he did, must likewise be undone,  
For which I fear a foul confusion rise.   Chor. 

Ah (great Antonius) sow not seeds of war,  
And if thou always dost delight in arms,  
The haughty Parthians yet undaunted are,  
Which may give thee great praise, and us no harms.   

Detest in time th'abominable broils,  
For which no conqueror to triumph hath com'd,  
Whilst this wretched town (which still some party spoils)  
Must loath the victor, and lament th'o'ercomed,   

And shall we still contend against all good,  
To make the yoke where we should bound abide?  
Must still the commons sacrifice their blood,  
As only borne to serve the great men's pride.   Ant. 

Whilst I the depths of my affection found,  
And read but th'obligations which I owe,  
I find myself by oaths, and duty bound,  
All Caesar's foes, or then myself t'o'erthrow.   

But when I weigh what to the state belongs,  
The which to plague no passion shall get place,  
Than I with grief digesting private wrongs,  
War with myself to give my country peace.   

Yet whilst my thoughts of this last purpose muse,  
I altogether disassent from this,  
That we should Caesar's fame, or body abuse,  
By torturing tyrants as the custom is.   

Lest guilty of ingratitude we seem,  
(If guerdoning our benefactors thus)  
Great Caesar's body from disgrace redeem,  
And let his acts be ratified by us.   

Then for the public weal of which we pause,  
Towards those that have him killed t'extend regard,  
Let them be pardoned for their kinsmen's cause,  
Remission given for evil is a reward.   C. Cass. 

We stand not dashed like malefactors here,  
With a dejected and remorseful mind,  
So in your presence supplicants t'appear,  
As who themselves of death do guilty find;   

But looking boldly with a lofty brow,  
Through a delight of our design conceived,  
We come to challenge gratefulness of you,  
That have of us so great a good received.   

But if ye will suspend your thoughts a space,  
Though not the givers, entertain the gift,  
Do us reject, yet liberty embrace,  
To have you free, lo, that was all our drift.   

So Rome her ancient liberties enjoy,  
Let Brutus, and let Cassius banished live,  
Thus banishment would breed us greater joy,  
Than what at home a tyrant's wealth could give.   

Though some misconstrue may this course of ours,  
By ignorance or then by hate deceived,  
Yet truth depends not on opinions powers,  
But is itself however misconceived.   

Though none themselves t'acknowledge us would deign,  
Our merit of itself is a reward,  
Of doing good none should repent their pain,  
Though neither getting guerdon nor regard.   

I'll venture yet my fortune in the field,  
With every one that Rome to bondage draws:  
And as for me, however others yield,  
I'll nought obey but reason and the Laws.   Cicer. 

What fools are those that further travel take,  
For that which else they passed recovery know?  
Who can revive the dead, or bring time back?  
At least no mortal that remains below.   

Great Pompey (now) for whom the world still weeps,  
Lies low, neglected on a barbarous shore;  
Self-slaughtered Scipio floats amidst the depths,  
Whom it may be sea-monsters do devour.   

Of Libyan wolves wise Cato feasts the wombs,  
Whose death of worth the world defrauded leaves:  
Thus some that merited Mausolean tombs,  
Not have a title graved upon their graves.   

And yet may Caesar that procured their death,  
By brave men slain be buried with his race:  
All civil war being banished with his breath,  
Let him now dead, and us alive have peace.   

We should desist our thoughts on things to set,  
That may harm some, and can give help to none,  
Learn to forget that which we can not get,  
And let our cares be gone, of all that's gone.   

Those that would strive all crosses to o'ercome,  
Must to the present time conform their course:  
And doing the best for that which is to come,  
Not meddle with things passed but by discourse.   

Seek not the thing which doth not good being found,  
Since Caesar now is dead, however dead;  
Let all our grief go with him to the ground,  
For sorrow best becomes a sightless shade.   

It's best that reconjoin with mutual love,  
We physic for this wounded state prepare:  
Neglecting those that from the world remove,  
All men on earth for earthly things must care.   Cho. 

O how those great men friendship can pretend,  
By soothing others thus with painted winds,  
And seem to trust, where treason they attend,  
Whilst love their mouth, and malice fills their minds.   

Those but to them poor simple souls appear,  
Whose countenance doth discover what they think,  
That make their words as is their meaning clear,  
And from themselves can never seem to shrink.   

Lo how Anthonius feigns to quench all jars,  
And kindly the conspirators t'embrace,  
Yet as he furthered first the former wars,  
It's feared he now be enemy to peace.   

Now where Calphurnia stays our steps address,  
By this last sudden chance her loss was chief:  
All visit should their neighbours in distress,  
To give some comfort, or to get some grief.   Exeunt.  

Act. V. Scene II.  Calphurnia, Nuntius, Chorus. 

WHen darkness last imprisoned had mine eyes,  
Such monstrous visions did my soul affright,  
That my dejected sprite still stupid dies,  
Through terrors then contracted in the night.   

A melancholious cloud so dims my breast,  
That it my mind fit for misfortune makes,  
A lodging well disposed for such a guest,  
Where nought of sorrow but th'impression lacks.   

And I imagine every man I see  
(My senses so corrupted are by fears)  
A Herald to denounce mishaps to me,  
That should infuse confusion in mine cares.   

O there he comes to violate my peace,  
In whom the object of my thoughts I see:  
Thy message is charactered in thy face,  
Which by thy looks directed is to me:   

Thy troubled eyes rest rolling for relief,  
As lately frighted by some ugly sight,  
Thy breath doth pant as if being big with grief,  
And feared to bring some monstrous birth to light.   Nun. 

The man of whom the world in doubt remained,  
If that his mind, or fortune was more great,  
Whose valour conquered, clemency retained  
All nations subject to the Roman state;   

Him fraud harmed more than force, friends more than, foes  
Ah, must this sad discourse by me be made?   Calph. 
Stay; ere thou further go defray my woes,  
How doth my love? where is my life? Num. Dead. Cal. dead.  Cho. 

Though apprehending horrors in her mind,  
Now since she hath a certainty received,  
She by experience greater grief doth find,  
Till borne, the passions cannot be conceived.   

whenas a high disaster force affords,  
O how that tyrant whom affliction bears,  
Bars th'ears from comfort, & the mouth from words.  
And being obdured cannot dissolve in tears.   Calph. 

Ah, since the lights of that great light are set,  
Why doth not darkness spread itself over all?  
At lest what further comfort can I get  
Whose pleasures had no period but his fall.   

O would the gods I always might confine  
Aetna 'in my breast, and th'Ocean in mine eyes,  
That t'entertain so great a grief as mine,  
Thence might sufficient furniture arise.   

Yet I disdain though by distress o'erthrown,  
By such external means to seek relief:  
The greatest sorrows are by silence shown,  
Whilst all the senses are shut up with grief:   

But misery doth so tyrannic grow,  
That it of sighs and tears a tribute claims:  
Ah, when the cup is full it must o'erflow,  
And fires that burn must offer up some flames.   

Yet though that thy last words my last might be,  
Which are deep sunk within a melted heart,  
Of my lives death report each point to me,  
That I for every circumstance may smart.   Nun. 

What fatal warnings did forego his end,  
Which by his stay to frustrate some did try?  
But he that scorned excuses to pretend,  
Was by the Destinies drawn forth to die.   

Whilst by the way he chanced t'encounter one  
That had his deaths-day named, he to him said;  
Now th'Ides of March be comed, but yet not gone,  
Straight th'other answered, and still constant staid.   

Another brought a letter with great speed,  
Which the conspiracy at length did touch,  
And gave it Caesar in his hand to read,  
Protesting that it did import him much.   

Yet did he lay it up where still it rests,  
As do the great whom happy th'earth reputes,  
That grieved to be importuned by requests,  
Of simple supplicants neglect the suits:   

Or he of it the reading did defer,  
Still troubled by attenders at the gate,  
Whilst some to show their credit did confer  
To flatter some, for something some t'entreat.   

Not only did the gods by divers signs  
Give Caesar warning of his threatened harms,  
But did disturb all th'adversaries designs,  
And to their troubled thoughts gave strange alarms.   

A Senator that by some words we find,  
To the conspirators (though none of theirs)  
Had shown himself familiar with their mind,  
Then chanced to deal with Caesar in affairs.   

That sight their souls did with confusion fill,  
For thinking that he told their purposed deeds;  
They straight themselves, or Caesar thought to kill  
A guilty conscience no accuser needs.   

But marking that he used (when taking leave)  
The gesture of a suitor that gave thanks,  
They of their course did greater hopes conceive,  
And ranged themselves according to their ranks.   

Then Caesar marched forth to the fatal place,  
Near Pompey's theater where the Senate was,  
Where when he had remained a little space,  
All the confederates flocked about. Calph. Alas.   Nun. 

First for the form Metellus Cimber craved,  
To have his brother from exile restored;  
Yet with the rest a rude repulse received,  
Whilst it they all too earnestly implored.   

Then Cimber that in strife with him did stand,  
Did draw the gown over Caesar's sacred head:  
But the first blow was given by Casca's hand,  
Which on his neck a little wound but made.   

Then Caesar starting whilst the stroke he spied,  
By strength from further striking Casca stayed:  
Whilst both the two burst out at once and cried,  
Th'one traitor Casca, th'other brother aid.   

Then all the rest against him did arise  
Like desperate men, whose fury force affords,  
That Caesar on no side could set his eyes,  
But every look re-encountered with some sword.   

Yet as a Lion when by nets surprised,  
Stands struggling still so long as he hath strength;  
So Caesar, as he had their power despised,  
Did with great rage resist; till at the length   

He thus cried out (when spying Brutus come)  
And thou my son? then grief did back rebound,  
Nought but unkindness Caesar could o'ercome,  
That of all things doth give the deepest wound.   Cho. 
Ah, when unkindness is where love was thought,  
A tender passion breaks the strongest heart,  
For of all those that give offence in aught,  
Men others hate, but for th'unkind they smart.  Nun. 

Ah, taking then no more delight in light,  
As which would then his life have bitter framed:  
Or then from Brutus' blow t'absent his sight,  
As of so great ingratitude ashamed.   

He with his gown being covered first over all,  
As one that neither sought, nor wished relief;  
Not wronging majesty in state did fall,  
No sigh consenting to betray his grief.   

Yet (if by chance or force I cannot tell,)  
Even at the place whereas his statue stood,  
As craving Pompey pardon Caesar fell,  
That in revenge it might exhaust his blood.   

But when his corpse abandoned quite by breath  
Did Fortune's frailties monument remain,  
That all might have like interest in his death;  
And guilty alike, look for like praise or pain.   

Then Cassius, Brutus, and the rest began  
With that great emperors blood t'imbrue their hands:  
What beast in th'earth more cruel is than man,  
When over his reason passion once commands?   Calph. 
Whilst brutish Brutus, and proud Cassius thus  
Rome's greatest Captain under trust deceived,  
Where was Anthonius (since a friend to us,)  
That he not lost himself, or Caesar saved?  Nun. 

The whole conspirators remained in doubt,  
Had he and Caesar joined, to be undone;  
And so caused one him t'entertain without,  
Who feigned a conference till the fact was done.   

Then knowing well in such tumultuous broils,  
That the first danger always is the worst,  
He fled in haste, disguised with unknown spoils,  
For rage and for disdain being like to burst.   Calph. 
The Senators that were assembled there,  
When they beheld that great man brought t'an end,  
What was their part? to what inclined their care?  
I fear affliction could not find a friend.  Nun. 

Of those that in the Senate-house did sit,  
As grieved so sad an object to behold:  
Or feared what further murderers might commit,  
Each towards his house a several way did hold.   

This act with horror did confound their sight,  
And unawares their judgement did surprise,  
When any hasty harms unlooked for light,  
The resolution hath not time to rise.   

That man on whom the world did once rely,  
By all being reverenced, and adored by some,  
Had none t'attend him left, but two and I.   Cho. 

To what an ebb may fortunes full whiles come:  
Why should men following on the smoke of pride,  
Leave certain ease to seek a dreamed delight,  
Which when they have by many dangers tried,  
They neither can with safety keep, nor quite?   

The people that by force subdued remain,  
May pity those by whom oppressed they rest.  
They but one tyrant have, where as there reign,  
A thousand Tyrants in one tyrants breast.   

What though that Caesar once commanded kings,  
Whose only name whole nations did appall?  
Yet now (let no man trust in worldly things)  
A little earth holds him that held it all.   Calph. 

Ah, had he but believed my faithful cares,  
That t'have his state established always strived:  
Then scaping this conspiracy of theirs,  
He honoured still, and I had happy lived.   

Did I not spend of supplications store,  
That he within his house this day would waste,  
As I by dreams advertised was before,  
Which show'd that was to come, which now is passed:   

Whilst the soothsayers sacrificed did find,  
A beast without a heart their altars stain:  
By that presage my soul might have divined  
That I without my heart would soon remain.   

But all those terrors could not terrors give,  
To that great mind whose thoughts could not be tamed;  
But by his fortune confident did live,  
As him t'obey the heavens had all things framed.   

Yet though he ended have his fatal race,  
T'insult for this let not his murderers strive,  
For, O I hope to see within short space,  
Him dead adored, and them abhorred alive.   

Though now his name the multitude respects,  
Since murdering one that had held him so dear,  
Whilst th'inward thoughts each outward thing reflects,  
Some monstrous shape to Brutus must appear.   

Just Nemesis must plague proud Cassius soon,  
And make him kill himself from hopes estranged;  
Once all the wrongs by foes to Caesar done,  
May by themselves be on themselves revenged.   Chor. 

Some for th'earth's sovereign Fortune strive to prove  
As heavens their course confusedly did advance,  
Nought comes to men below, but from above,  
By providence, not by a staggering chance.   

Though to the cause that last foregoes the end,  
Some attribute th'event of every thing,  
That cause on other causes doth depend,  
From heaven to earth that chained together hang.   

Of those decrees that heavens for us appoint,  
whoever them approves, or yet disproves,  
No mortal man can disappoint a point,  
But as they please here moves, or hence removes.   

We when once comed the world's vain pomp to try,  
Led by the fates, t'our journeys end must haste,  
For when first borne, we straight begin to die,  
Life's first day is a step unto the last.   

And is there ought more swift than days and years,  
Which wear away this breath of ours so soon?  
Whilst Lachesis to no request gives ears,  
But spins the threads of life till they be done.   

Yet foolish worldlings following that which flies,  
As if they had assurance still to breath,  
To frail preferrment fondly strive to rise,  
Which but a burden weighs them down to death.   Nun. 

there's none of us but must remember still,  
How that the gods by many a wondrous sign,  
Did show as 'twere how that against their will,  
The destinies would Caesar's days confine.   

A monstrous star amidst the heaven hath been,  
Still since they first against him did conspire,  
The solitary birds at noon were seen,  
And men to walk environed all with fire.   

What wonder though the heavens at such a time,  
Upbraid the earth with apparitions strange,  
Then whilst intending such a monstrous crime,  
Unnatural men make nature's course to change.   Cho. 

Though all such things seem wonderful to some,  
They may by reason comprehended be,  
Yet if aught more than common custom come,  
It th'ignorant with wondering eyes must see.   

Those bastard stars not heritors of th'air,  
Are first conceived below, then borne above,  
And when foreknowing things sprites take most care,  
And by illusions superstition move.   

Yet this no doubt a great regard should breed,  
When Nature hath brought forth a monstrous birth,  
Where men in secret characters may read,  
The wrath of heaven, and wickedness of earth.   

The Naturalists, and th'Astrologians skill,  
May whiles rencountering manifest like care,  
Since th'one looks back, and th'other forward still,  
Th'one may tell what, and th'other why things are.   Nu. 

Shall sorrow through the waves of woes to sail  
Have still your tears for seas, your sighs for winds,  
t'affliction what do base complaints avail?  
A higher course becomes heroic minds.   

None are o'ercomed save only those that yield,  
Though they from froward fortune blows have borne.  
Let Virtue be t'adversity a shield,  
No greater grief to grief than th'enemies scorn.   

This makes your foes but laugh to see you weep;  
At least these tears but for yourself bestow,  
And not for that great sprite, whose spoils heavens keep,  
For he no doubt rests deified ere now.   Calp. 

I only wail my life, and not his death,  
That now amongst th'immortals doth repose,  
And shall so long as I have blood or breath,  
To furnish forth those elements of woes.   

I care not who rejoice, so I lament,  
That do to darkness dedicate my days,  
And since the light of my delight is spent,  
Shall have in horror all Apollo's rays.   

I will retire myself to wail alone,  
As do the trusty Turtles for their mates,  
And my misfortune always bent to moan,  
Will spurn at pleasures, as empoisoned baits.   

No second guest shall press great Caesar's bed,  
Warmed by the flames to which he first gave life,  
I think there may be greater honour had,  
Being Caesar's widow, than another's wife.   

This had afforded comfort for my harms,  
If I (ere chanced abandoned thus to be,)  
Had had a little Caesar in mine arms,  
That represented had his sire to me.   

Yet doth that idol which my thoughts adore,  
With me of late most strictly match remain,  
For where my arms but held him whiles before,  
Now in my heart I shall him still retain.   

That (though I have no precious things t'impart)  
Thy deity may by me b'acknowledged oft,  
Still offering up my thoughts upon my heart,  
My sacred flame shall always mount aloft.   Exeunt 

Chorus.  

WHat fools are those that do repose their trust,  
On what this mass of misery affords?  
And bragging but of th'excrements of dust,  
Of lifeless treasures labour to be lords:  
Which like the Syrens songs, or Circe's charms,  
With shadows of delight hide certain harms.   

Ah whilst they sport on pleasures icy ground,  
Oft poisoned by prosperity with pride,  
A sudden fall doth floating joys confound,  
Of those that stumble after th'eyeless guide,  
That so inconstantly herself doth bear,  
To hope th'unhappy, happy have cause to fear.   

The fortunate that bathe in floods of joys,  
To perish whiles amidst their pleasures chance,  
And mirthless wretches wallowing in annoys,  
Oft by adversity themselves advance:  
Whilst fortune bent to mock vain worldlings ears  
Doth change despairs in hopes, hopes in despairs.   

That gallant Grecian, whose great wit so soon  
Th'innumerable army did o'ercome,  
Were not he was undone, had been undone,  
And if not banished had not had a home:  
To him fear courage gave (what wondrous change,)  
And many doubts a resolution strange.   

He that told one that then was fortune's child,  
As if with horror to congeal his blood,  
That Caius Marius being from Rome exiled:  
Wretched on the ruins of great Carthage stood:  
Though both being plagued by grief, and by disgrace  
The consulship regained, and died in peace.   

And that great Pompey (all the world's delight,)  
Whom of his theater then th'applauses pleased,  
Whilst praise-transported eyes endeared his sight,  
That by youths toils should have his age then eased:  
He by one blow of fortune lost far more,  
Than many a battle conquered had before.   

Such sudden changes so disturb the soul,  
That still the judgement balanced is by doubt,  
But on around, what wonder though things roll,  
And since within a circle turn about?  
Whilst heaven on earth strange alterations brings,  
To scorn our confidence in worldly things.   

And chanced there ever accidents more strange,  
Than in this stormy bounds where we remain?  
A shepherds Staff did here t'a Sceptre change,  
The nursling of a wolf over men to reign:  
A little village grew a mighty town,  
Which whilst it had no king, held many a crown.   

Then by how many sundry sorts of men,  
Hath this great state been ruled? though now by none,  
Which first obeyed but one, than two, than ten,  
Then by degrees returned to two, and t'one,  
Of which three states their ruin did abide,  
Two by twos lusts, and one by two men's pride.   

What revolutions huge have happened thus,  
All by a secret violence being led,  
Though seeming but by accident to us,  
Yet in the depths of heavenly breasts first bred;  
As arguments demonstrative to prove,  
That weakness dwells below, and power above.   

Lo Caesar, though being burdened in short space,  
Both with strange nations, and his country's spoils,  
Even when he seemed by war t'have purchased peace,  
And roses of sweet rest from thorns of toils:  
Then whilst his mind and fortune raise most high,  
Hath been constrained the last distress to try.   

What warnings large were in a time so short,  
Of that dark course which by his death now shines?  
It speechless wonders plainly did report,  
It men revealed by words, and gods by signs:  
Yet by the chains of destinies being bound,  
He saw the sword, but could not scape the wound.   

O what a curtain over our knowledge hangs!  
Whiles closed, whiles opened by th'etherial host,  
Which makes us sometime sharp to see small things,  
And yet quite blind whenas we should see most:  
That curious brains may rest amazed at it,  
Whose ignorance makes them presume of it.   

Then let us live, since all things change below,  
When raised most high as those that once may fall,  
And hold when by disasters brought more low,  
The mind still free whatever else be thrall:  
Those Lords of Fortune sweeten every state,  
That can command themselves, though not their fate.      
FINIS.   

Some verses written to his Majesty by the Author at the time of his majesties first entry into England.  

Stay tragic muse with those untimely verses,  
With raging accents and with dreadful sounds,  
To draw dead monarch out of ruined hearses,  
T'affright th'applauding world with bloody wounds:  
Raze all the monuments of horrors past,  
T'advance the public mirth our treasures waste.   

And pardon (old Heroes) for O I find,  
I had no reason to admire your fates:  
And with rare gifts of body and of mind,  
Th'unbounded greatness of evil-conquered states.  
More glorious acts then were achieved by you,  
Do make your wonders thought no wonders now.   

For ye the Potentates of former times,  
Making your will a right, your force a law:  
Staining your conquest with a thousand crimes,  
Still reigned like tyrants but obeyed for awe:  
And whilst your yoke none willingly would bear,  
Died oft the sacrifice of wrath and fear.   

But this age great with glory hath brought forth  
A matchless Monarch whom peace highly raises,  
Who as th'untainted Ocean of all worth  
As due to him hath swallowed all your praises.  
Whose clear excellencies long known for such,  
All men must praise, and none can praise too much.  
For that which others' hardly could acquire,  
With loss of thousands lives and endless pain,  
Is heaped on him even by their own desire,  
That thirst t'enjoy the fruits of his blessed reign:  
And never conqueror gained so great a thing,  
As those wise subjects gaining such a King.   

But what a mighty state is this I see?  
A little world that all true worth inherits,  
Strong without art, entrenched within the sea,  
Abounding in brave men full of great spirits:  
It seems this I'll would boast, and so she may,  
To be the sovereign of the world some day.   

O generous JAMES the glory of their parts,  
In large dominions equal with the best:  
But the most mighty Monarch of men's hearts,  
That ever yet a Diadem possessed:  
Long mayst thou live, well loved & free from dangers,  
The comfort of thine own, the terror of strangers.    

Some verses written shortly thereafter by reason of an Inundation of Douen, a water near unto the author's house, whereupon his Majesty was sometimes wont to Hawk.  

WHat wonder though my melancholious muse,  
Whose generous course some luckless star controls:  
Her bold attempts to prosecute refuse,  
And would feign bury my abortive scrolls.   

To what perfection can my lines be raised,  
Whilst many a cross would quench my kindling fires:  
Lo for Parnassus by the Poets praised,  
Some savage mountains shadow my retires.   

No Helicon her treasure here unlocks,  
Of all the sacred band the chief refuge:  
But dangerous Douen rumbling through the rocks,  
Would scorn the rainbow with a new deluge.   

As Tiber mindful of his old renown,  
Augments his floods to wail the fair changed place:  
And grieved to glide through that degenered town,  
Toils with his depths to cover their disgrace.   

So doth my Doven rage grieved in like sort,  
While as his wonted honour comes to mind:  
To that great Prince whilst he afforded sport,  
To whom his Trident Neptune hath resigned.   

And as the want of waters and of swains,  
Had but begotten to his banks neglect:  
He strives t'encroach upon the bordering plains,  
Again by greatness to procure respect.   

Thus all the creatures of this orphand bounds,  
In their own kinds moved with the common cross:  
With many a monstrous form all form confounds,  
To make us mourn more feelingly our loss.   

We must our breasts to baser thoughts enure,  
Since we want all that did advance our name:  
For in a corner of the world obscure,  
We rest ungraced without the bounds of fame.   

And since our Sun shines in another part,  
Live like th'Antipodes deprived of light:  
Whilst those to whom his beams he doth impart,  
Begin their day whilst we begin our night.   

This hath discouraged my high-bended mind,  
And still in dole my drooping Muse arrays:  
Which if my Phoebus once upon me shined,  
Might raise her flight to build amidst his rays.   
FINIS.