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As a fick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.

Bru. Another general shout!
I do believe that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heaped on Cæsar.

Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus! and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep

To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men, at sometimes, are masters of their fates :
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Brutus-and Cæfar--what should be in that Cæsar ?
Why should that name be founded, more than yours?
Write them together ; yours

is as fair a name:
Sound them, it doch become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
Brutus will start a fpirit as soon as Cæsar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meats does this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown fo great? Age, thou art fham'd;
Rome, thou haft lost the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, since the
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls encompass’d but one man?
Oh! you and I have heard our fathers say
There was a Brutus, one that would have brook'd
Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome
As easily as a king:


great flood,


Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous ;
What you

would work me to, I have some aim :
How I have thought of this, and of these times,
I shall recount hereafter: for this present,
I would not (so with love I might intreat you)
Be any further mov'd. What you have said,
I will consider ; what


have to say,
I will with patience hear; and find a time
Both meet to hear, and answer such high things.
Till then, my noble friend, chew upon

Brutus had rather be a villager,
Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under such 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.




Bel. A GOODLY day! not to keep house, with such Whose roof's as low as ours : see, boys ! this gate Instructs you how t'adore the heav'ns ; and bows you To morning's holy office. Gates of monarchs Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet through, And keep their impious turbans on, without Good.morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heav'n! We house i' th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly As prouder livers do. GUID. Hail, heay’n!


And you may

Arv. Hail, heav'n!

Bel. Now for our mountain sport, up to yond hill,
Your legs are young. I'll tread these flats. Consider,
When you, above, perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which lessens and sets off :

then revolve what tales I told you,
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war;
That service is not service, fo being done,
But being so allow'd. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we fee;
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The Sharded beetle in a safer 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 uncross’d;- no life to ours.

Guid. Out of your proof you speak; we, poor, unfledg'a, Have never wing'd from view o'th' nest; nor know What air's from home. · Haply this life is best, If quiet life is best ; sweeter to you, That have a sharper known ; well corresponding With your stiff age :

but unto us, it is
A cell of ignorance ; travelling a-bed ;
A prison, for a debtor that not dare's
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, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen 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 usuries,
And felt them knowingly? the art o'th' court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb,
Is certain falling; or so flipp'ry, that
The fear's as bad as falling; the toil of war;
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I'th' name of fame and honour; which dies i' th' search,
And hath as oft a sand'rous epitaph,
As record of fair act; nay, many a time
Doth ill deserve, by doing well : what's worse
Mult curt'sy at the censure-Oh, boys, this story
The world might read in me: my body's mark'd
With Roman swords; and my report was once
First with the best of note. Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: then was Į as a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit., But in one night,
A form, 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 (whose false oaths prevail'd Before my perfect honour) swore to Cymbeline I was confed?rate with the Romans : fo Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years,


This rock and these demesnes have been my world ;
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 shall 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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