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And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made a universal shout,

That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?

And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone!

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for this

Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

Exeunt all the Commoners.
See whether their basest metal be not mov’d;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol ;
This way will I. Disrobe the images

68 If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.

Mar. May we do so?
You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Cæsar's trophies. I'll about
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too where you perceive them thick.


49 her; cf. n.

50 replication: echo 53 cull'out: choose this as

55 Pompey's blood; cf. n. on line 35 69 ceremonies: ceremonial trappings

71 Lupercal; cf. n.



These growing feathers pluck'd from

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soar above the view of men
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.


Scene Two

[A Public Place] Enter [in solemn procession, with music] Cæsar, An

tony for the course, Calpurnia, Portia, Decius,
Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, [a great crowd
following, among them) a Soothsayer: after them

Marullus and Flavius.
Cæs. Calpurnia !
Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks.

[Music ceases.] Cæs.

Calpurnia ! Cal. Here, my lord.

Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius' way When he doth run his course. Antonius!

4 Ant. Cæsar, my lord.

Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,

8 Shake off their sterile curse. Ant.

I shall remember: When Cæsar says 'Do this,' it is perform'd.

Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. [Music.] Sooth. Cæsar!

12 Cæs. Ha! Who calls ?

77 pitch: height, as of a hawk's flight
9 sterile curse: affliction of barrenness

6 in ... speed: as you run
11 Set on: proceed, advance
18 ides of March: March fifteenth
24 S. d. Sennet: trumpet signal for procession to move
25 order of the course: progress of the running
28 gamesome: fond of sport


Casca. Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!

[Music ceases.] Cæs. Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

16 Cry 'Cæsar.' Speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear.

Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

What man is that? Bru. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of

March. Cæs. Set him before me; let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng; look upon

Cæsar. Cæs. What sayst thou to me now? Speak once

again. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.

Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course? Bru. Not I. Cas. I pray you, do.

Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part 28 Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; I'll leave you.

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: 32 I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Bru.




29 quick: lively 32 do observe: have had occasion to notice

33 that: the same 35, 36 handle your friend too stiffly and distantly

Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
Of late with passions of some difference,

Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviours;
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd, -
Among which number, Cassius, be you one, - 44
Nor construe any


my neglect, Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men. Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;

48 By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

Bru. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, 52 But by reflection, by some other things.

Cas. 'Tis just:
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors as will turn

Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard

many of the best respect in Rome, Except immortal Cæsar,--speaking of Brutus, 60 And groaning underneath this age's yoke, Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself

64 For that which is not in me?

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear; 37 Be not deceiv'd: do not misjudge me

39 Merely: altogether difference: conflicting 41 proper: belonging, relating 42 soil: blemish

45 construe: read meaning into 49 By ... whereof: because of which mistake 54 just: true, right 59 respect: standing

eyes: had his eyes about him

40 of

62 had



And, since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laugher, or did use

To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or if you know
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

Flourish, and shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear the

people Choose Cæsar for their king. Cas.

Ay, do you fear it? 80 Then must I think you would not have it so.

Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye and death i' the other,
And I will look on both indifferently;
For let the gods so speed me as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.

Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.

92 I cannot tell what you and other men



71 jealous on: suspicious of
73 stale: make cheap ordinary: customary
74 protester: loud-mouthed pretender
76 scandal: defame

77 profess myself: make protestations 78 S. d. Flourish: trumpet call

87 indifferently: impartially 88 speed: favor, prosper

91 favour: appearance

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