A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means,
If he improve them, may well stretch so far,
As to annoy us all; which to prevent,
Let Antony and Cæsar fall together.
Bru. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,
To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs ;
Like wrath in death, and envy1 afterwards;
For Antony is but a limb of Cæsar.
Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
We all stand up against the spirit of Cæsar;
And in the spirit of men there is no blood.
O that we then could come by Cæsar's spirit,
And not dismember Cæsar! But, alas,
Cæsar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds;
And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
And after seem to chide them. This shall make
Our purpose necessary, and not envious;
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be called purgers, not murderers.
And for Mark Antony, think not of him;
For, he can do no more than Cæsar's arm,
When Cæsar's head is off.
Cas.
Yet I do fear him;
For, in the ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar,
Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him ;
If he love Cæsar, all that he can do
Is to himself; take thought, and die for Cæsar;
And that were much he should; for he is given
To sports, to wildness, and much company.
Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die;
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.
Bru. Peace; count the clock.
1 Envy here, as almost always by Shakspeare, is used for malice.
2 To take thought, is to grieve, to be troubled in mind.
The clock hath stricken three
Cas.
But it is doubtful yet,
Whe'r Cæsar will come forth to-day, or no;
For he is superstitious grown of late;
Quite from the main opinion he held once
Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies.
may be, these apparent prodigies,
The unaccustomed terror of this night,
And the persuasion of his augurers,
May hold him from the Capitol to-day.
Dec. Never fear that. If he he so resolved,
I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear,
That unicorns may be betrayed with trees,3
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers.
But when I tell him he hates flatterers,
He says, he does; being then most flattered.
Let me work;
For I can give his humor the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitol.
Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
Bru. By the eighth hour; is that the uttermost?
Cin. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.
Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæsar hard,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;
I wonder none of you have thought of him.
Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along by him; He loves me well, and I have given him reasons. Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.
2 Main opinion is fixed opinion, general estimation. Fantasy was used for imagination or conceit in Shakspeare's time. Ceremonies signify omens or signs deduced from sacrifices or other ceremonial rites.
3 Unicorns are said to have been taken by one, who, running behind a tree, eluded the violent push the animal was making at him, so that his horn spent its force on the trunk, and stuck fast. Bears are reported to have been surprised by means of a mirror, which they would gaze on, affording their pursuers an opportunity of taking the surer aim. Elephants were seduced into pitfalls, lightly covered with hurdles and turf, on which a proper bait to tempt them was placed.
4 i. e. by his house; make that your way home.
Cas. The morning comes upon us. We'll leave
And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember
What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.
Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily ;
Let not our looks put on1 our purposes;
But bear it as our Roman actors do,
With untired spirits, and formal constancy.
And so, good-morrow to you every one.
[Exeunt all but BRUTUS.
Boy! Lucius!-Fast asleep?—It is no matter;
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber.
Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies,
Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
Bru. Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you
It is not for your health, thus to commit
Your weak condition to the raw-cold morning.
Por. Nor for yours, neither.
Stole from my bed; and yesternight, at supper,
You suddenly arose, and walked about,
Musing, and sighing, with your arms across;
And when I asked you what the matter was,
You stared upon me with ungentle looks.
I urged you further; then you scratched your head,
And too impatiently stamped with your foot.
Yet I insisted, yet you answered not;
But with an angry wafture of your hand,
Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did;
Fearing to strengthen that impatience,
Which seemed too much enkindled; and, withal,
1 "Let not our faces put on, that is, wear or show our designs." 2 Shapes created by imagination.
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