To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome :
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores ?

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out an holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Begone-

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague,
That needs must light on this ingratitude."

The well-known dialogue between Brutus and Cassius, in which the latter breaks the design of the conspiracy to the former, and partly gains him over to it, is a noble piece of high-minded declamation. Cassius's insisting on the pretended effeminacy of Cæsar's character, and his description of their swimming across the Tiber together, "once upon a raw and gusty day," are among the finest strokes in it. But perhaps the whole is not equal to the short scene which follows when Cæsar enters with his train.

"BRUTUS. The games are done, and Cæsar is returning. CASSIUS. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve, And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you

What has proceeded worthy note to day.

BRUTUS. I will do so; but look you, Cassius

The angry spot doth glow on Cæsar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train.
Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero
Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes,
As we have seen him in the Capitol,
Being crost in conference by some senators.
CASSIUS. Casca will tell us what the matter is.
CESAR. Antonius

ANTONY. Cæsar?

CESAR. Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights:
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look,
He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.

ANTONY. Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous :
He is a noble Roman, and well given.

CESAR. Would he were fatter; but I fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear,

I 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 anything.
Such men as he be never at heart's ease,
Whilst 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.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him."

We know hardly any passage more expressive of the genius of Shakspeare than this. It is as if he had been actually present, had known the different characters and what they thought of one another, and had taken down what he

heard and saw, their looks, words, and gestures, just as they happened.

The character of Mark Antony is farther speculated upon where the conspirators deliberate whether he shall fall with Cæsar. Brutus is against it

"And for Mark Antony, think not of him;
For he can do no more than Cæsar's arm,
When Cæsar's head is off.

CASSIUS. Yet do I fear him:

For in th' ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar-
BRUTUS. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:

If he love Cæsar, all that he can do

Is to himself, take thought, and die for Cæsar:

And that were much, he should; for he is giv'n

To sports, to wildness, and much company.

TREBONIUS. There is no fear in him; let him not die: For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.”

They were in the wrong; and Cassius was right. The honest manliness of Brutus is however sufficient to find out the unfitness of Cicero to be included in their enterprize, from his affected egotism and literary vanity.

"O, name him not: let us not break with him;
For he will never follow anything,

That other men begin."

His scepticism as to prodigies and his moralising on the weather-"This disturbed sky is not to walk in "-are in the same spirit of refined imbecility.

Shakspeare has in this play and elsewhere

shown the same penetration into political character and the springs of public events as into those of every-day life. For instance, the whole design to liberate their country fails from the generous temper and overweening confidence of Brutus in the goodness of their cause and the assistance of others. Thus it has always been. Those who mean well themselves think well of others, and fall a prey to their security. That humanity and sincerity which dispose men to resist injustice and tyranny render them unfit to cope with the cunning and power of those who are opposed to them. The friends of liberty trust to the professions of others, because they are themselves sincere, and endeavour to secure the public good with the least possible hurt to its enemies, who have no regard to anything but their own unprincipled ends, and stick at nothing to accomplish them. Cassius was better cut out for a conspirator. His heart prompted his head. His habitual jealousy made him fear the worst that might happen, and his irritability of temper added to his inveteracy of purpose, and sharpened his patriotism. The mixed nature of his motives made him fitter to contend with bad men. The vices are never so well employed as in combating one. another. Tyranny and servility are to be dealt with after their own fashion, or they will triumph over those who spare them.

The quarrel between Brutus and Cassius is managed in a masterly way. The dramatic fluctuation of passion, the calmness of Brutus, the heat of Cassius, are admirably described; and the exclamation of Cassius on hearing of the death of Portia, which he does not learn till after their reconciliation, "How 'scap'd I killing when I crost you so?" gives double force to all that has gone before. The scene between Brutus and Portia, where she endeavours to extort the secret of the conspiracy from him, is conceived in the most heroical spirit, and the burst of tenderness in Brutus

"You are my true and honourable wife;

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart."—

is justified by her whole behaviour. Portia's breathless impatience to learn the event of the conspiracy, in the dialogue with Lucius, is full of passion. The interest which Portia takes in Brutus, and that which Calphurnia takes in the fate of Cæsar, are discriminated with the nicest precision. Mark Antony's speech over the dead body of Cæsar has been justly admired for the mixture of pathos and artifice in it: that of Brutus certainly is not so good.

The entrance of the conspirators to the house of Brutus at midnight is rendered very impressive. In the midst of this scene, we meet with one of those careless and natural digressions