Imatges de pÓgina

Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees,
By which he had ascended. 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,
Whieh, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous ;
And kill him in the shell.

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.

[Gives him a Letter. 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.

[Exit. Bru. The exhalations whizzing in the air,

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

[Opens the Letter, and reads. Brutus, thou sleep'st, awake, and see thyself : Shall Rome---speak, strike, redress. Brutus, thou sleep'st ; awake. Such instigations have been often dropp'd, Where I have took them up. Shall Rome- —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 the promise,

If the redress will follow, thou receiv'st
Thy full petition, at the hand of Brutus !

Enter Lucius.
Luc. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.

Knocks within.
Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate ; somebody knocks.

[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,

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 ?

Luc. No, sir; their faces are buried in their robes,
That by no means I may discover them,
By any mark of favour.
Bru. Let them enter.

[Erit 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 mask thy monstrous visage; seek none, conspiracy, Hide it in smiles and affability; For if thou put thy native semblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention.



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?

[ Aside.
Cas. Yes, every man of them, and no man here,
But honours you; and every one doth wish
You had but that opinion of yourself,
Which every noble Roman bears, of you.
This is Trebonius.

Bru. He is welcome hither.
Cas. This is Decius Brutus.
Bru. He is welcome, too.

Cas. This Casca; this Cinna;
And this, Metellus Cimber.

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

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 that the face of men,
The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,
If these be motives weak, break off

' betimes,
And every man hence to his idle bed :
So let high-sighted tyranny range on,
Till each man drop by lottery ;-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 by it?
Swear priests and cowards, 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 enterprize,
Nor th' insuppressive metal of our spirits,
To think, that, or our cause, or our performance,
Did need an oath. When ev'ry drop of blood,
That ev'ry Roman bears, and nobly bears,
Is guilty of a several bastardy,
If he doth break the smallest particle,
Of any promise that hath pass'd his lips.

Cas. But what of Cicero? shall we sound him?
I think he will stand very strong with us.

Casca. Let us not leave him out.
Cin. No, by no means.

Met, 0, let us have him, for his silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion,
And buy men's voices to commend our deeds.

Bru. (), name him not; let us not break with him;
For he will never follow any thing
That other men beginr.

Cas. Then leave him out.
Casca. Indeed he is not fit.
Dec. Shall no man else be touch’d, but only

Cas. Decius, well urg'd; I think it is not meet,
Mark Antony, so well-belov'd of Cæsar,
Should outlive Cæsar: we shall find of him
A shrewd contriver ;—which, to prevent,
Let Antony and Cæsar fall together.
Bru. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius

To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs;
Like wrath in death, and


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 man, there is no blood :
Oh, 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 carcase fit for hounds.
And this shall make
Our purpose necessary, 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 do I fear him ;
For, in th’ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar-

Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he loves Cæsar, all that he can do,
Is to himself, take thought, and die for Cæsar;
And that were much, he should; for he is giv'n
To sports, to wildness, and much company.

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