As a fick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of fuch a feeble temper fhould
get the ftart of the majeftic world,
And bear the palm alone.
BRU. Another general shout!
I do believe that these applaufes are
For fome new honours that are heaped on Cæfar.
CAS. Why, man, he doth beftride the narrow world
Like a Coloffus! and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves difhonourable graves.
Men, at sometimes, are mafters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings..
Brutus and Cæfar-what fhould be in that Cæfar?
Why should that name be founded, more than yours?
Write them together; yours is as fair a name :
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
Brutus will flart a spirit as foon as Cæfar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meats does this our Cæfar feed,
That he is grown fo great? Age, thou art fham'd;
Rome, thou haft loft the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, fince the great flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
When could they fay, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
Oh! you and I have heard our fathers fay
There was a Brutus, one that would have brook'd
Th' eternal devil to keep his ftate in Rome
BRU. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have fome aim :
How I have thought of this, and of these times,
I fhall recount hereafter: for this present,
I would not (fo with love I might intreat you)
Be any further mov'd. What you have faid,
I will confider; what you have to say,
I will with patience hear; and find a time
Both meet to hear, and answer fuch high things.
'Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this;
Brutus had rather be a villager,
Than to repute himself a fon of Rome
Under fuch hard conditions as this time
Is likely to lay upon us.
CAS. I am glad that my weak words
Have ftruck but this much shew of fire from Brutus.
BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, AND ARVIRAGUS.
BEL. A GOODLY day! not to keep house, with fuch
Whofe roof's as low as ours: fee, boys! this gate
Inftructs you how t'adore the heav'ns; and bows you
To morning's holy office. Gates of monarchs.
Are arch'd fo high, that giants may jet through,
And keep their impious turbans on, without
Good-morrow to the fun. Hail, thou fair heav'n!
We house i' th' rock, yet use thee not fo hardly
As prouder livers do.
BEL. Now for our mountain sport, up to yond hill,
Your legs are young. I'll tread these flats.
When you, above, perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which leffens and fets off:
And you may then revolve what tales I told you,
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war;
That service is not service, so being done,
But being fo allow'd. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see;
And often, to our comfort, fhall we find
The fharded beetle in a fafer hold
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. Oh! this life
Is nobler than attending for a check;
Richer, than doing nothing for a bauble;
Prouder, than ruftling in un-paid-for filk..
Such gain the cap of him that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncrofs'd;-
-no life to ours.
GUID. Out of your proof you speak; we, poor, unfledg'a,
Have never wing'd from view o' th' neft; nor know
What air's from home. Haply this life is best,
If quiet life is beft; fweeter to you,
That have a sharper known; well correfponding
With your ftiff age : but unto us, it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed;
A prifon, for a debtor that not dares
To ftride a limit.
ARV. What should we speak of,
When we are old as you? When we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December? How,
In this our pinching cave, fhall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have feen nothing;
M 6
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat.
Our valour is too chase what flies; our cage
We make a choir, as doth the prison'd bird,
And fing our bondage freely.
BEL. How you speak!
Did you but know the city's ufuries,
And felt them knowingly? the art o' th' court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb,
Is certain falling; or fo flipp'ry, that
The fear's as bad as falling; the toil of war;
A pain that only feems to feek out danger
I' th' name of fame and honour; which dies i' th' search, And hath as oft a fland'rous epitaph,
As record of fair act; nay, many a time
Doth ill deferve, by doing well: what's worfe
Muft curt'fy at the cenfure-Oh, boys, this story
The world might read in me: my body's mark'd
With Roman fwords; and my report was once
First with the best of note. Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a foldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit. But in one night,
A ftorm, or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves;
And left me bare to weather!
GUID. Uncertain favour!
BEL. My fault being nothing, as I have told you oft, But that two villains (whofe falfe oaths prevail'd Before my perfect honour) fwore to Cymbeline I was confed'rate with the Romans: fo
Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years,
This rock and thefe demefnes have been my
Where I have liv'd at honest freedom; paid
More pious debts to Heaven than in all
The fore-end of my time.-But, up to th' mountains!
This is not hunter's language; he that strikes
The venison first, shall be the lord o' th' feast;
To him the other two fhall minister,
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state.
I'll meet you in the vallies.
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