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Now do I wish it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.

The. Fair flowers, you are fortunately met:
Of this discourse we more will hear anon.—
Egeus, I will overbear your will;

For in the temple, by and by with us,
These couples shall eternally be knit.
And, for the morning now is something worn,
Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside.-
Away, with us, to Athens: Three and three,
We'll hold a feast in great solemnity.

Come, Hippolyta.

[Exeunt THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train. Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.

Her. Methinks I see these things with parted eye; When every thing seems double.

Hel.

So, methinks:

It seems to me,

And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
Mine own, and not mine own.

Dem.

That yet we sleep, we dream.-Do not you think,
The duke was here, and bid us follow him?

Her. Yea; and my father.

Hel.

And Hippolyta.

Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple.

Dem. Why then, we are awake: let's follow him;

And, by the way, let us recount our dreams.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-The same. An Apartment in the Palace of Theseus.
Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Lords, and Attendants.
Hip. 'Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.
The. More strange than true. I never may believe

These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,

Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend

More than cool reason ever comprehends.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,

Are of imagination all compact:

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold;

That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,

Sces Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And, as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation, and a name.

Such tricks hath strong imagination;
That, if it would but apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
Or, in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear?

Hip. But all the story of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigured so together,
More witnesseth than fancy's images,

And grows to something of great constancy;
But, howsoever, strange, and admirable.

Enter LYSANDER, Demetrius, HERMIA, and HELena.
The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.—
Joy, gentle friends! joy, and fresh days of love,
Accompany your hearts.

The Play ends with a masque by the comic personages of the Drama.

JULIUS CESAR.

In this noble composition. Shakspeare has shown himself equally great, in dramatizing a celebrated portion of Classic History, as he is in adapting incidents gathered from romantic story, or the wonders of legendary fiction.

In Julius Caesar, he has been chiefly indebted to Plutarch for his materials, and it is no mean praise awarded to him by his commentators, that he has caught the spirit of his great original.

The principal characters are veritable Plutarchian embodiments. Cæsar, Brutus, Cassius, and Antony, are clothed with even more individuality of character, than they are depicted by the celebrated Greek Biographer.

"The real length of time in Julius Cæsar is as follows: About the middle of February, B. C. 709, a frantic festival, sacred to Pan, and called Lupercalia, was held in honor of Cæsar, when the regal crown was offered to him by Antony. On the 15th of March in the same year, he was slain. November 27, B. C. 710, the triumvirs met at a small island, formed by the river Rhenus, near Bonoma, and there adjusted their cruel proseription.-B. C. 711, Brutus and Cassius were defeated near Philippi.”

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FLAVIUS and MARULLUS, tribunes.

ARTEMIDORUS, a sophist of Cnidos.

A Soothsayer. CINNA, a poet. Another Poet.

LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, young CATO, and VOLUMNIUS; friends to Brutus and Cassius.

VARRO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRATO, LUCIUS, Dardanius; servants

to Brutus,

PINDARUS, servant to Cassius.

CALPHURNIA, wife to Cæsar.

PORTIA, wife to Brutus.

Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c.

SCENE,—during a great part of the Play, at ROME; afterwards at SARDIS; and near PHILIPPI,

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Rome. A Street.

Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a rabble of Citizens.
Flav. Hence; home, you idle creatures, get you home;
Is this a holiday? What! know you not,

Being mechanical, you ought not walk,
Upon a laboring day, without the sign

Of your profession ?-Speak, what trade art thou?
1st Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule ?

What dost thou with thy best apparel on ?

You, sir; what trade are you?

2nd Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler.

Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.

2nd Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.

Mar. What trade, thou knave, thou naughty knave, what trade? 2nd Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.

Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow ? 2nd Cit. Why, sir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

2nd Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod up n neats-leather, have gone upon my handy-work. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?

Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

2nd Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?

You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!

O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
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 Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in her concave shores ?

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone!

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

Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;

Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I: Disrobe the images,

If

you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. Mar. May we do so?

You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter; let no images

Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets :
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.

These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch;

Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

rfulness.

[Exit Citizens.

[Exeunt.

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Enter, in procession, with music, CESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA, a great crowd following; among them a Soothsayer.

Sooth. Cæsar.

Cas. Who is it in the press, that calls on me?

I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

Cry, Cæsar: speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear.
Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

What man is that?

Cæs.
Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of March.
Cas. Set him before me, let me see his face.
Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon Cæsar.
Cas. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.
Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

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