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Casca. O, he sits high, in all the people's hearts: And that, which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchymy,

Will change to virtue, and to worthiness.

Cas. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,

You have right well conceited. Let us go,

For it is after midnight; and, ere day,

We will awake him, and be sure of him. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. The same. Brutus's orchard.

Enter Brutus.

Bru. What, Lucius! ho!

I cannot, by the progress of the stars,

Give guess how near to day.-Lucius, I say!-
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.-
When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say: What, Lu-
cius !

Enter Lucius..

Luc. Call'd you, my lord?

Bru. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:

When it is lighted, come and call me here.

Luc. I will, my lord.

[Exit.

Bru. It must be by his death: and, for my part,

I know no personal cause to spurn at him,

But for the general. He would be crown'd:-. How that might change his nature, there's the ques

tion.

It is the bright day, that brings forth the adder; And that craves wary walking. Crown him?-That;

An exclamation of impatience.

And then, I grant, we put a sting in him,
That at his will he may do danger with.
The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
Remorse from power: And, to speak truth of
Cæsar,

I have not known when his affections sway'd
More than his reason. But'tis a common proof t,
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
Whereto the climber-upward turns his face:
But when he once attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees t
By which he did ascend: So Cæsar may;

Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
Will bear no colour for the thing he is,

Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would run to these, and these extremities:
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg,

Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischie

vous;

And kill him in the shell.

Re-enter Lucius.

Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, sir. Searching the window for a flint, I found This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, It did not lie there, when I went to bed.

Bru. Get you to bed again, it is not day. Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March? Luc. I know not, sir.

Bru. Look in the calendar, and bring me word. Luc. I will, sir.

Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air,

[Exit.

Give so much light, that I may read by them.

[Opens the letter, and reads.

Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake, and see thyself.

Pity, tenderness.

Low steps.

+ Experience.
Nature.

Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress!
Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake.-

Such instigations have been often dropp'd

Where I have took them up.

Shall Rome, &c. Thus, must I piece it out;
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What!
Rome?

My ancestors did from the streets of Rome

The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king.
Speak, strike, redress!-Am I entreated then
To speak, and strike? O Rome! I make thee pro-
mise,

If the redress will follow, thou receivest

Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus.

Re-enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.

Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody

knocks.

[Knocks within.

[Exit Lucius.

Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar,
I have not slept.

Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma*, or a hideous dream:
The genius, and the mortal instruments,
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection.

Re-enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, Who doth desire to see you.

Bru.

Is he alone?

Luc. No, sir, there are more with him.

Bru.

Do you know them?

* Visionary.

Luc. No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their

ears,

And half their faces buried in their cloaks,

That by no means I may discover them

By any mark of favour.

Bru.

Let them enter..

[Exit Lucius.

They are the faction. O conspiracy!

Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are most free? O, then, by day, Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough

To mark thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspi

racy;

Hide it in smiles, and affability:

For if thou path thy native semblance ont,

Not Erebus itself were dim enough

To hide thee from prevention..

Enter Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and Trebonius.

Cas. I think we are too bold. upon your rest: Good-morrow, Brutus; Do we trouble you?

Bru. I have been up this hour; awake, all night.
Know I these men, that come along with you?
Cas. Yes, every man of them; and no man here,
But honours you: and every oue doth wish,
You had but that opinion of yourself,

Which every noble Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.

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What watchful cares do interpose themselves.
Betwixt your eyes and night?

Countenance.

+ Walk in thy true form.

Hell.

Cas. Shall I entreat a word?

[They whisper.

Dec. Here lies the east: Doth not the day break

here?

Casca. No.

Cin. 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 de-
ceiv'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

He first presents his fire; and the high east
Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.

Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one.
Cas. And let us swear our resolution.

Bru. No, not an oath: If not the face of men, The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,If these be motives weak, break off betinies, And every man hence to his idle bed; So let high-sighted tyranny range on, Till each man drop by lotteryt. But if these, As I am sure they do, bear fire enough To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour The melting spirits of women; then, countrymen, What need we any spur, but our own cause, To prick us to redress? what other bond, Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, And will not palter ?? and what other oath, Than honesty to honesty engag'd,

That this shall be, or we will fall for it?

Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous, Old feeble carrions, and such suffering souls That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear Such creatures as men doubt: but do not stain The even virtue of our enterprise,

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