Dec. Most mighty Cæsar, let me know some cause, Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so.

Cæs. The cause is in my will: I will not come;
That is enough to satisfy the senate:

But for your private satisfaction,
Because I love you, I will let you know:
Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home:
She dreamt to-night she saw my statue,
Which, like a fountain with a hundred spouts,
Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it:

72

76

And these does she apply for warnings and por

tents,

And evils imminent; and on her knee

Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day.
Dec. This dream is all amiss interpreted;

It was a vision fair and fortunate:
Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,
In which so many smiling Romans bath'd,
Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck
Reviving blood, and that great men shall press
For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance.
This by Calpurnia's dream is signified.

80

84

89

Cas. And this way have you well expounded it. Dec. I have, when you have heard what I can

say;

And know it now: the senate have concluded

To give this day a crown to mighty Cæsar.

If

92

you shall send them word you will not come, Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock 96 Apt to be render'd, for some one to say,

75 stays: keeps

89 tinctures: healing medicines; cf. n.

88 press: crowd about stains: assimilable traces cog

(tinges) of Cæsar's qualities relics: i.e., religious benefits nizance: heraldic emblems, i.e., social benefits 96 mock: gibe

'Break up the senate till another time,

When Cæsar's wife shall meet with better dreams.' If Cæsar hide himself, shall they not whisper, 100 'Lo, Cæsar is afraid'?

Pardon me, Cæsar; for my dear dear love

To your proceeding bids me tell you this,

And reason to my love is liable.

104

Cæs. How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia!

I am ashamed I did yield to them.

Give me my robe, for I will go.

Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca, Trebonius,
Cinna, and Publius.

And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
Pub. Good morrow, Cæsar.

Cæs.

108

Welcome, Publius.

What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too?

Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,

Cæsar was ne'er so much your enemy

As that same ague which hath made you lean.
What is 't o'clock?

Bru.

Cæsar, 'tis strucken eight. Cæs. I thank you for your pains and courtesy.

Enter Antony.

See, Antony, that revels long o' nights,

Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.
Ant. So to most noble Cæsar.
Cæs.

112

116

Bid them prepare within:

I am to blame to be thus waited for.
Now, Cinna; now, Metellus; what, Trebonius,
I have an hour's talk in store for you;
Remember that you call on me to-day:
103 proceeding: career

121

104 liable: subservient

you.

124

Be near me, that I may remember
Treb. Cæsar, I will:-[Aside.] and so near will I
be,
That your best friends shall wish I had been further.
Cas. Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with

me;

And we, like friends, will straightway go together. Bru. [Aside.] That every 'like' is not 'the same,' O Cæsar,

128

The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon. Exeunt.

Scene Three

[A Street near the Capitol]

Enter Artemidorus [reading a paper].

Art. 'Cæsar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark well Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Cæsar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover,

ARTEMIDORUS.'

Here will I stand till Cæsar pass along,
And as a suitor will I give him this.
My heart laments that virtue cannot live
Out of the teeth of emulation.

If thou read this, O Cæsar, thou mayest live;
If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.

128 Cf. n.

9

12

Exit.

129 yearns: grieves

8 security gives way: unguardedness yields opportunity 9 lover: friend

14 Out.. teeth: free from the bite

emulation: grudging jealousy

Scene Four

[Another part of the same Street, before the house of Brutus]

Enter Portia and Lucius.

Por. I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house; Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.

Why dost thou stay?

Luc.

To know my errand, madam.

Por. I would have had thee there, and here

again,

Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there.

O constancy, be strong upon my side;

Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue;
I have a man's mind, but a woman's might.

How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
Art thou here yet?

Luc.

Madam, what shall I do?

Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?

And so return to you, and nothing else?

12

Por. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, For he went sickly forth; and take good note What Cæsar doth, what suitors press to him. Hark, boy! what noise is that?

Luc. I hear none, madam.
Por.

Prithee, listen well:

I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,

And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
Luc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

Enter the Soothsayer.

16

Por. Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been?

20 Sooth: in truth

Sooth. At mine own house, good lady.

Por. What is 't o'clock?

Sooth.

About the ninth hour, lady.

Por. Is Cæsar yet gone to the Capitol?

Sooth. Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand,

To see him pass on to the Capitol.

24

Por. Thou hast some suit to Cæsar, hast thou not? Sooth. That I have, lady: if it will please Cæ

sar

To be so good to Cæsar as to hear me,

I shall beseech him to befriend himself.

28

Por. Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him?

Sooth. None that I know will be, much that I fear

may chance.

Good morrow to you.
The throng that follows Cæsar at the heels,
Of senators, of prætors, common suitors,
Will crowd a feeble man almost to death:
I'll get me to a place more void, and there
Speak to great Cæsar as he comes along.

Here the street is narrow:

Por. I must go in. Ay me! how weak a thing
The heart of woman is. O Brutus,
The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!
Sure, the boy heard me.-Brutus hath a suit
That Cæsar will not grant.-O, I grow faint.-
Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;
Say I am merry: come to me again,
And bring me word what he doth say to thee.

32

36

Exit.

40

44

Exeunt.

37 void: open