is full of passion. The interest which Portia takes in Brutus and
that which Calphurnia takes in the fate of Caesar are discriminated
with the nicest precision. Mark Antony's speech over the dead body
of Caesar 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 which occur so
frequently and beautifully in Shakespeare. After Cassius has
introduced his friends one by one, Brutus says:

They are all welcome.
What watchful cares do interpose themselves
Betwixt your eyes and night?

Cassius. Shall I entreat a word? [They whisper.]

Decius. Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?

Casca. No.

Cinna. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey lines,
That fret the clouds, are messengers of day.

Casca. You shall confess, that you are both deceiv'd:
Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises,
Which is a great way growing on the south,
Weighing the youthful, season of the year.
Some two months hence, up higher toward the north