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As a sick 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 heap'd 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 about
To find ourselves difhonourable 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.
Brutusmand Cæsar-what should be in that Cæfar?
Why should that name be founded, more than your's ?
Write them together; your's 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 start a spirit as foon as Cæfar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meats does this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou are tham'd;
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, since the great flood,
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 incompass’d but one man ?
Oh! you and I have heard our fathers say,
There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome
As easily as a king,


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


would work me to, I have some aim:
How I have thought of this, and of these times,
I Mall 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 you 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 this;
Brutus had rather be a villager,
Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under such hard conditions as this time
Is like to lay upon us.

CAs. I am glad that my weak words
Have struck but thus much shew of fire from Brutus.



H A P.




GOODLY day! not to keep house, with fuch




how ť 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 turbands 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, Heav'n!
Ary, Hail, Heav'n!

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Bec. 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 leffens and sets off :
you may
then revolve what tales I told

Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war;
That service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow’d. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see ;
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The fharded 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 unpaid-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’d,
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; sweeter to you,
That have a sharper known ; well corresponding

ftiff age : but unto us, it is
A cell of ign'rance; travelling a bed ;
A prison, 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, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have feen nothing;
We're beastly; subtle as the fox for prey,

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Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat.
Our valour is to chase'what fies; our cage
We make a choir, as doth the prison's 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 Nipp'ry, that
The fear's as bad as falling; the toil of war;
A pain that only feems to seek out danger
I'th' name of fame and honour; which dies i'th' search,
And hath as oft a fand'rous epitaph,
As record of fair act; nay, many time,
Doth ill deserve, by doing well : what's worfe
Must curt'fy at the cenfurc.-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 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 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 (whofe false oaths prevail'd
Before my perfect honour) swore to Cymbeline,
I was confęd’rate with the Romans: fo
Follow'd my

nt; 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 valleys.


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