Heavens were full of fiery Shapes, and the Foundation of the Earth shook
like a Coward; _Hotspur_ reply'd humourously, _Why so it would have done at
the same Season, if your Mother's Cat had but kitten'd, tho' your self had
never been born_.

If we are to think so slightly of these uncommon Accidents, since the
Fashion of the Times will call them so, I would fain be resolved in one
Point, how it comes to pass, that the Birth and Death of so many eminent
Persons, and of Consequence to the World, have been mark'd and usher'd in
with such a Pomp of Prodigies. The same great Poet, whom I but now quoted,
observes finely, that,

_When Beggars die, there are no Comets seen:
The Heav'ns themselves blaze forth the Death of Princes._

The whole Concurrence of Historians, even of the most undoubted Authority,
have struck in, and espoused this Opinion. They are not all Fools and
superstitious Dotards, nor tied by any Obligations to record a Set of
Miracles, which in their own private Thoughts they counted absurd, and
laugh'd at. Every Pen, that has touch'd the Circumstance of _Julius
Cæsar's_ Death, has consented to relate the Strange Things, which both
foresaw and foretold his Assassination. _Shakespear_ has communicated these
Terrors to his Audience with the utmost Art: The Night is attended with
Thunder and Lightning; and _Cæsar_ comes forth in his Night-gown,
reflecting on the Unquietness of the Season, and ordering the Priests to do
present Sacrifice: _Calphurnia_ immediately follows him; and the
Undauntedness of his Spirit, attack'd by the Tenderness of his Wife's
Tears, gives an Occasion for the following Recital.

Cæsar, _I never stood on Ceremonies;