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THE

TRA G E D Y

OF

JULIUS CAESAR,

AL T E R E D:

WITH A

PROLOGUE AND CHORUS;

BY HIS GRACE

JOHN DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

PRO L OG U E

TO THE

A L T E R A TI ON

OF

JULIUS CAES A R.

HOP

TOP E to mend SHAKESPEARE! or to match his style!

'Tis fucb a jelt, would make a Stoick smile.
Tov food of fame, our Poet foars too high ;
Yer freely ou ns he wants the wings to fly:
So ientible of his presumptuous thought,
That he confi fles while he does the fault:
This to the Fair will no great wonder prove,
Who oft in blushes yield to what they love.

Of greatest actions, and of noblest men,
This story most deserves a poet's pen.
For who can wilh a scene more juftly fam'd,
When Rome and mighty Julius are but nam’d!
That state of heroes, who the world had brav'd!
That wondrous man,

who such a state inslav'd!
Yet loth be was to take so rough a way,
And after govern’d with so mild a sway,
At distance pow of sev’nteer hundred years,
Methinks a lovely ravilher appears ;
Whom tho’ forbid by virtue to excuse,
Anymph might pardun, and could .carce refuse.

JULIUS CAESAR, DICTATOR.
BRUTUS,
CASSIUS,
DEC. BRUTUS, CONSPIRATORS.
TREBONIUS,
CASCA,

M. ANTONIUS.

JUNIUS, ONE OF CAESAR'S FREEDMEN.
PORTIA, WIFE OF BRUTUS.
LUCIUS, ONE OF HIS SERVANTS.

SENATORS.

PRIESTS.

TRADES MEN AND CITIZENS.

SPURINNA, A SOUTH-SA Y ER.

THIS PLAY BEGINS THE DAY BEFORE CAESAR'S DEATH,

AND ENDS WITHIN AN HOUR AFTER IT.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Enter two Roman Senators at one door, TREBONIUS

and CASCA at another.

Hall, good TREBONIUS.

I SENATOR.
AIL, TREBONIUS.

2 SENATOR
Health to worthy Casca.
Will you go with us to the sports to-day?

I SENATOR.
Before this CÆSAR's time, we had no shews
Magnificent as these.

TREBONIUS.
But we had triumphs:
And tho' the conqueror fat high exalted,
We all partook both of his fame and merit:
The gaz'd-on warrior in the gilded chariot
Enjoy'd his fill of fame, but, as Rome's subject :
And, to his great renown in glorious arms,
A higher, much more valu'd crown, was added;
Immortal praise for serving well his country.

CASCA.
Oh how our hearts were fir'd at POMPEY's triumphs!
The blood more lively danc'd within our veins:
The

very image of it strikes my fancy! Methinks I see a thousand noble captives Drooping with grief, which yet was lighter made By his kind usage. After came the treasures; Our treasures ! for it was not then as now,

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