There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.

A HEALTH.

Give

me
the

cups;
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth,
Now the king drinks to Hamlet.

JULIUS CÆSAR.

ACT I.

PATRIOTISM.

What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other,
And I will look on both indifferently:
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.

CONTEMPT OF CASSIUS FOR CÆSAR.

I was born free as Cæsar; so were you:
We both have fed as well; and we can both
Endure the winter's cold, as well as he.
For once, upon a raw and gusty* day,
The troubled 'Tyber chafing with her shores,
Cæsar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point? Upon the word,
Accouter'd as I was,

I plunged in,
And bade him follow; so, indeed, he did.

a

The torrent roar'd; and we did baffet it
With lusty sinews; throwing it aside
And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæsar cry'd, Help me, Cassius, or I sink.
I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tyber
Did I the tired Cæsar : And this man
Is now become a god; and Cassius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body,
If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.
He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And, when the fit was on him, I did mark
How he did shake; 'tis true, this god did shake:
His coward lips did from their colour fly;
And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world,
Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan:
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
Alas! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius,
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. Shout. Flourish.

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 Like a Colossus: and we petty men

[world Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

a

Brutus, and Cæsar: What should be in that Cæsar?
Why should that name be sounded 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 them,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar. [Shout.
Now in the name of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'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 walks encompass'd but one man?

CÆSAR'S DISLIKE OF CASSIUS. 'Would he were fatter:-But I fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear,

do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;. He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music: Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort, As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit That could be mov'd to smile at any thing;. Such men as he be never at heart's ease, Whiles they behold a greater than themselves; And therefore are they very dangerous. I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd, Than what I fear, for always I am Cæsar.

SPIRIT OF LIBERTY.

I know where I will wear this dagger then; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius :

Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat:
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars, .
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
If I know this, know all the world besides,

of tyranny, that I do bear, I can shake off at pleasure.

That part

ACT II. AMBITION CLOTHED IN SPECIOUS HUMILITY. But 'tis a common proof*, That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face: But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degreest By which he did ascend.

a

CONSPIRACY DREADFUL TILL EXECUTED.
Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasmaI, or a hideous dream :
The genius, and the mortal instruments,
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to

little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.

BRUTUS'S APOSTROPHE TO CONSPIRACY. O conspiracy! Sham’st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, * Experience. + Low steps,

# Visionary.

Α Α

When evils are most free! O, then, by day,
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough
To mask thy monstrous visage ? Seek none, con-
Hide it in smiles and affability: [spiracy;
For if thou path thy native semblance* on,
Not Erebus itself were dim enough
To hide thee from prevention.

AGAINST CRUELTY.

Gentle friends,
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds :
And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
Stir
up

their servants to an act of rage, And after seem to chide them.

SLEEP.

Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber : Thou hast no figuresI, nor no fantasies, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep’st so sound.

PORTIA'S SPEECH TO BRUTUS. You have ungently, Brutus, Stole from my bed : And yesternight, at supper, You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, Musing, and sighing, with your arms across: And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You star'd upon me with ungentle looks : I urg'd you further; then you scratch'd your head, And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot: Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not; * Walk in thy true form.

+ Hell. # Shapes created by imagination.