University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Forum, or Market-Place.
Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Trebonius meeting.
Treb.
Good even, brought you Cæsar home?
Why are you breathless, why stare you so?

Cask.
Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of Earth
Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Trebonius,
I have seen Tempests, when the scolding Winds
Have riv'd the knotty Oaks, and I have seen
Th'ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threatning Clouds:
But never till to Night, never till now,
Did I go through a Tempest-droping-fire.
Either there is a Civil Strife in Heaven,
Or else the World too sawcy with the Gods,
Incenses them to send Destruction.

Treb.
Why, saw you any thing more wonderful?

Cask.
A common Slave, you know him well by sight,
Held up his left Hand, which did flame and burn
Like twenty Torches joyn'd, and yet his Hand,
Not sensible of Fire, remain'd unscortch'd.
Besides (I ha' not since put up my Sword)
Against the Capitol I met a Lyon,
Who gaz'd upon me, and went surly by,
Without anoying me. And there were drawn
Upon a Heap, a hundred gastly Women,
Transform'd with their fear, who swore, they saw
Men, all in Fire, walk up and down the Streets.
And Yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit,
Even at Noon-day, upon the Market-place,
Houting, and shrieking. When these Prodigies
Do so conjoyntly meet, let not Men say,
They are Natural:
For I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the Climate that they point upon.

[Thunder.
Treb.
Indeed, it is a strange disposed time:
But Men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Comes Cæsar to the Capitol to Morrow?

Cask.
He does: for he bid Mark Anthony
Send Word to you he wou'd be there to Morrow.

Treb.
Good-night then, Caska:
This disturbed Sky is not to walk in.

Cask.
Farewell Trebonius.

[Thunder.
[Exit Trebonius.
Enter Cassius.
Cassi.
Who's there?

Cask.
A Roman.

Cassi.
Caska, by your Voice.

Cask.
Your Ear is good
Cassius, what a Night is this?

Cassi.
A very pleasing Night to honest Men.

Cask.
Who ever knew the Heavens menace so?

Cassi.
Those that have known the Earth so full of Faults.
For my part, I have walk'd about the Streets,
Submitting me unto the perilous Night;
And thus unbraced, Caska, as you see,
Have bar'd my Bosom to the Thunder-bolt;
And when the cross blew Lightning seem'd to open
The Breast of Heaven, I did present my self
Even in the Aim, and very Flash of it.

Cask.
But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heavens?
It is the part of Men, to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty Gods by Tokens send
Such dreadful Heralds, to astonish us.

Cassi.
You are dull, Caska:
And those sparks of Life, that should be in a Roman,
You do want, or else you use not.
Now could I (Caska) name to thee a Man,
Most like this dreadful Night,
That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graves, and roars,
As doth the Lyon in the Capitol:
A Man no mightier then thy self, or me,
In personal Action; yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.

Cask.
Indeed, they say, the Senators to Morrow
Mean to establish Cæsar as a King:
And he shall wear his Crown by Sea, and Land,
In every place, save here in Italy.

Cassi.
I know where I will wear this Dagger then;
Cassius from Bondage shall deliver Cassius:
Therein, ye Gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye Gods, you Tyrants do defeat.
Nor Stony Towers, nor Walls of beaten Brass,
Nor air-less Dungeon, nor strong Links of Iron,
Can be retentive to the Strength of Spirit:
But Life being weary of these worldly Barrs,
Never lacks Power to dismiss it self.
If I know this, know all the World besides,
That part of Tyranny that I do bear,
I can shake off at Pleasure.

Cask.
So can I:
So every Bond-man in his own Hand bears
The Power to cancel his Captivity.

Cass.
And why should Cæsar be a Tyrant then?
Poor Man, I know he would not be a Wolf,
But that he sees the Romans are but Sheep:
He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hinds.
Those that with haste wou'd make a mighty Fire,
Begin it with weak Straws. What trash is Rome?
What Rubbish, and what Offal? When it serves
For the base matter, to illuminate
So vile a thing as Cæsar. But, oh Grief!
Where hast thou led me? I (perhaps) speak this
Before a willing Bond-man: Then I know
My Answer must be made. But I am arm'd,
And Dangers are to me indifferent.

Cask.
You speak to Caska, and to such a Man,
That is no flearing Tell-tale. Take my Hand:
Be factious for redress of all these Griefs,
And I will set this Foot of mine as far,
As who goes farthest.

Cassi.
There's a Bargain made,
Now know you, Caska, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the Noblest-minded Romans
To undergo, with me, an Enterprize,
Of honourable, dangerous Consequence;
And I do know by this, they stay for me
In Pompey's Porch:

Enter Cinna.
Cask.
Stand close a while, for here comes one in haste.

Cassi.
'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his Gate,
He is a Friend. Cinna, where haste you so?

Cinna.
To find out you: Who's that Metellus Cymber?

Cassi.
No, it is Caska, one incorporate
To our Attempts. Am I not stay'd for Cinna?

[Thunder.
Cinna.
What a fearful Night is this?
There's two or three of us have seen strange Sights.

Cassi.
Am I not stay'd for? Tell me.

Cinna.
Yes, you are. O Cassius,
If you could but win the Noble Brutus
To our Party—

Cassi.
Be you content. Good Cinna, take this Paper,
And look you lay it in the Prætor's Chair,
Where Brutus may find it: And throw this
In at his Window; set this up with Wax
Upon old Brutus's Statue: All this done,
Repair to Pompey's Porch, where you shall find us.
Are Decius, Brutus and Trebonius there?

Cinna.
All, but Metellus Cymber, and he's gone
To seek you at your House. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these Papers as you bad me.

Cassi.
That done, repair to Pompey's Theatre.
[Exit Cinna.
Come Caska, you and I will yet, e're Day,
See Brutus at his House: Three parts of him
Is ours already, and the Man entire
Upon the next Encounter, yields him ours.

[Exeunt.
SCENE, A Garden.
Enter Brutus.
Brut.
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 Lucius!

Enter Lucius.
Luc.
Call'd you, My Lord?

Brut.
Get me a Taper in my Study, Lucius:
When it is lighted come and call me here.

Luc.
I will, my Lord.

[Exit.
Brut.
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 Question?
It is the bright Day, that brings forth the Adder,
And that craves wary walking: Crown him
And then I grant we put a Sting in him,
That at his Will he may do danger with.
And to speak truth of Cæsar,
I have not known, when his Affections sway'd
More then his Reason. But 'tis a common proof,
That Lowliness is young Ambitions 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
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 when 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 mischievous,
And kill him in the Shell.

Enter Lucius with a Letter.
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 lye there when I went to Bed.

Brut.
Get you to Bed again, it is not Day:
Is not to Morrow (Boy) the tenth of March?

Luc.
I know not, Sir.

Brut.
Look in the Kalender, and bring me Word.

Luc.
I will, Sir.

[Exit.
Brut.
The Exhalations, whizzing in the Air,
Give so much light, that I may read by them.
[Opens the Letter, and reads.
Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake, and see thy self:
Shall Rome, &c. speak, strike, redress,
Brutus, thou sleep'st: Awake.
Such Instigations have been often dropt,
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
To speak, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
If the Redress will follow, thou receivest
Thy full Petition at the Hand of Brutus.

Enter Lucius.
Luc.
Sir, March is wasted fifteen Days.

Brut.
'Tis good. [Knocking without.]
Go to the
Gate, some Body knocks.
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.

Brut.
Is he alone?

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

Brut.
Do you know them?

Luc.
No, Sir, their Faces are buried in their Cloaks.
That by no means I may discover them,
By any Mark or Favour.

Brut.
Let 'em enter.
[Exit Lucius.
They are the Faction. O Conspiracy,
Sham'st thou to shew thy dang'rous 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 it self were dim enough,
To hide thee from Prevention.

Enter Cassius, Caska, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonious.
Cassi.
I think we are too bold upon your Rest:
Good-morrow Brutus, Do we trouble you?

Brut.
I have been up this Hour, awake all Night:
Know I these Men, that came along with you?

Cassi.
Yes, every Man of them; and no Man here
But Honours you: And every one doth wish,
You had but that Opinion of your self,
Which every Noble Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.

Brut.
He is Welcome hither.

Cassi.
This, Decius Brutus.

Cassi.
He is Welcome too.

Cassi.
This, Caska; this, Cinna; and this Metellus Cymber,

Brut.
They are all Welcome.
What watchful Cares do interpose themselves
Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?

Cassi.
Shall I intreat a Word?

[They whisper.
Deci.
Here lies the East: Doth not the Day break here?

Cask.
No.

Cin.
O Pardon, Sir, it doth, and yon grey Lines,
That fret the Clouds, e're Messengers of Day.

Cask.
You shall confess, that you are both deceiv'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.

Brut.
Give me your Hands all over, one by one

Cassi.
And let us swear our Resolution.

Brut.
No, not an Oath: If not the Face of Men,
The Sufferance of our Souls, the times Abuse;
If these be Motives weak, break off betimes,
And every Man hence, to his idle Bed:
So let high-seated 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,
Then secret Romans, that have spoke the Word,
And will not falter? And what other Oath
Than Honesty to Honesty ingag'd,
That this shall be, or we will fall for it.
Swear Priests and Cowards, and such suff'ring 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 Mettle of our Spirits,
To think, that, our Cause, or our Performance
Did need an Oath. When every drop of Blood
That every Roman bears,
Is guilty of a several Bastardy,
If he do break the smallest Particle
Of any Promise that hath past from him.

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

Cask.
Let us not leave him out.

Cin.
No, by no means.

Metel.
O let us have him! For his Silver Hairs
Will purchase us a good Opinion:
And buy Mens Voices, to commend our Deeds.

Bru.
O name him not; let us not break with him,
For he will never follow any thing
That other Men begin.

Cassi.
Then leave him out.

Cask.
Indeed, he is not fit.

Deci.
Shall no Man else be touch'd, but only Cæsar?

Cassi.
Decius well urg'd: I think it is not meet,
Mark Anthony, so well belov'd of Cæsar,
Should out-live Cæsar, we shall find of him
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 Anthony and Cæsar fall together.

Brut.
Our Course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,
To cut the Head off, and then hack the Limbs:
Like Wrath in Death, and Envy afterwards:
For Anthony is but a Limb of Cæsar.
Let's 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 Carkass fit for Hounds;
This shall make our Purpose necessary,
Which so appearing to the common Eyes,
We shall be call'd Purgers, not Murderers.
And for Mark Anthony, think not of him:
For he can do no more than Cæsar's Arm,
When Cæsar's Head is off.

Cassi.
Yet I fear him,
For the ingrafted Love he bears to Cæsar.

Brut.
Alas! good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he love Cæsar, all that he can do
Is to himself; take thought, and dye 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 dye,
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

[Clock strikes Three.
Brut.
Peace, count the Clock.

Cassi.
The Clock hath strucken Three.

Treb.
'Tis time to part.

Cassi.
But it is doubtful yet,
Whether Cæsar will come forth to Day, or no:
For he is Superstitious grown of late,
Quite from the main Opinion he held once,
Of Fantasie, of Dreams, and Ceremonies:
It may be, these apparent Prodigies,
The unaccustom'd Terror of this Night,
And the Persuasion of his Augurers,
May hold him from the Capitol to Day.

Deci.
Never fear that: If he be so resolv'd,
I can o're-sway him: For he loves to hear,
That Unicorns may be betray'd with Trees,
And Bears with Glasses, Elephants with Holes,
Lyons with Toyls, and Men with Flatterers.
But, when I tell him he hates Flatterers,
He says, he does; being then most flattered.
Let me work him,
For I can give his Humour the true Bent:
And I will bring him to the Capitol.

Cassi.
Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.

Brut.
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.

Brut.
Now good Metellus go to him from me:
He loves me well, and I have given him Reasons,
Send him hither, and I'll fashion him.

Cassi.
The Morning comes upon us:
We'll leave you, Brutus,
And Friends disperse yourselves; but all remember
What you have said, and shew your selves true Romans.

Brut.
Good Gentlemen, look fresh and merrily.
Let not our Looks put on our Purposes,
But bear it as our Roman Actors do,
With untyr'd Spirits, and formal Constancy.
And so good-morrow to you every one.

Om.
Good Morning to Lord Brutus.

[Exeunt Conspirators.
Enter Portia.
Por.
Brutus, my Lord.

Brut.
Portia, What mean you? Wherefore rise you now?
It is not for your Health, thus to commit
Your weak Condition to the raw cold Morning

Por.
Nor for yours neither. Y'have ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my Bed: And yesternight at Supper
You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
Musing and sighing, with your Arms a-cross:
And when I ask'd you what the Matter was?
You star'd upon me, with ungentle Looks.
Yet I insisted; yet you answer'd not,
But with an angry Wafter of your Hand,
Gave sign for me to leave you; So I did,
Hoping it was but an Effect of Humour,
Which sometime hath his Hour with every Man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep:
And could it work so much upon your Shape,
As it hath much prevail'd on your Condition,
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your Cause of Grief.

Brut.
I am not well in Health, and that is all.

Por.
Brutus is wise, and were he not in Health,
He would embrace the Means to come by it.

Brut.
Why so I do: Good Portia go to Bed.

Port.
What, is Brutus sick?
And will he steal out of his wholsome Bed
To dare the vile Contagion of the Night?
And tempt the rheumy, and unpurg'd Air,
To add unto his Sickness? No, my Brutus,
You have some sick Offence within your Mind,
Which by the Right and Vertue of my place,
I ought to know of: And upon my Knees,
I charm you, by my once commended Beauty,
By all your Vows of Love, and that great Vow
Which did incorporate and make us one,
That you unfold to me, your self, your other half
Why you are heavy; and what Men to Night
Have had Resort to you; for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their Faces
Even from darkness.

Brrt.
Kneel not, gentle Portia.

Por.
I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within the Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus,
Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets
That appertain to you? Am I your Self,
But as it were in Sort, or Limitation?
To keep with you at Meals, comfort your Bed,
And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the Suburbs
Of your good Pleasure? If it be no more,
Portia is Brutus Harlot, not his Wife.

Brut.
You are my true and honourable Wife,
As dear to me, as are the ruddy Drops
That visit my sad Heart.

Por.
If this were true, then shou'd I know this Secret.
I grant I am a Woman; but withal,
A Woman that Lord Brutus took to Wife:
I grant I am a Woman; but withal,
A Woman well reputed: Cato's Daughter.
Think you, I am no stronger than my Sex,
Being so Father'd, and so Husbanded?
Tell me your Counsels, I will not disclose 'em:
I have made strong Proof of my Constancy.
Giving my self a voluntary Wound
Here, in the Arm: Can I bear that with Patience,
And not my Husband's Secrets?

Brut.
O ye Gods!
Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.
[Knocking at the Gate.
Hark, hark, one knocks: Portia go in a while,
And by and by thy Bosom shall partake
The Secrets of my Heart.

[Exit. Portia.
Enter Lucius, and Caius Ligarius.
Luc.
Who's that knocks?

Luc.
Here is a sick Man that would speak with you.

Brut.
Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how;

Cai.
Vouchsafe Good-morrow from a feeble Tongue.

Brut.
O what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
To be distemper'd in. Would you were not sick.

Cai.
I am not sick if Brutus have in Hand
Any Exploit worthy the Name of Honour.

Brut.
Such an Exploit have I in Hand, Ligarius,
Had you a healthful Ear to hear it.

Cai.
By all the Gods that Romans bow before,
I here discard my Sickness. Soul of Rome,
Brave Son, deriv'd from Honourable Loins,
Thou like an Exorcist, hast conjur'd up
My mortified Spirit. Now bid me run,
And I will strive with things impossible:
What's to be done?

Brut.
A Piece of Work,
That will make sick Men whole.

Cai.
But are not some whole, that we must make sick?

Brut.
That we must also. What it is, my Caius,
I shall unfold to thee, as we are going,
To whom it must be done.

Cai.
Set on your Foot,
And with a Heart new-fir'd, I follow you,
To do I know not what: but it sufficeth,
That Brutus leads me on.

Brut.
Follow me then.

[Thunder and Lightning.
SCENE, Cæsar's Pallace.
Enter Julius Cæsar.
Cæsar.
Nor Heaven, nor Earth,
Have been at Peace to Night:
Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her Sleep cryed out;
Help, ho! They murther Cæsar! Within there!

Enter a Servant.
Ser.
My Lord.

Cæs.
Go bid the Priests do present Sacrifice,
And bring me their Opinions of Success.

Ser.
I will, my Lord.

[Exit.
Enter Calphurnia.
Cal.
What mean you Cæsar, think you to walk forth?
You shall not stir out of your House to Day.

Cæs.
Cæsar shall forth; the things that threaten me,
Ne're look but on my Back: When they shall see
The Face of Cæsar, they are vanished.

Calph.
Cæsar, I never stood on Ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me: There is one within,
Besides the things that we have heard and seen,
Recounts most horrid Sights seen by the Watch.
A Lioness hath whelped in the Streets,
And Graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their Dead;
Fierce fiery Warriours fight upon the Clouds,
In Ranks and Squadrons, and right form of War,
Which drizel'd Blood upon the Capitol:
The noise of Battel hurtled in the Air;
Horses did neigh, and dying Men did groan,
And Ghosts did shriek and squeal about the Streets.
O Cæsar, these things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them.

Cæs.
What can be avoided
Whose End is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet Cæsar shall go forth: For these Predictions
Are to the World in general, as to Cæsar.

Calp.
When Beggars dye, there are no Comets seen,
The Heavens themselves blaze forth the Death of Princes.

Cæs.
Cowards dye many times before their Deaths,
The Valiant never taste of Death but once:
Of all the Wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that Men should fear,
Seeing that Death, a necessary End,
Will come when it will come.
Enter a Servant.
What say the Augurers?

Ser.
They would not have you to stir forth to Day.
Plucking the Entrails of an Offering forth,
They could not find a Heart within the beast.

Cæs.
The Gods do this in shame of Cowardise:
Cæsar should be a Beast without a Heart
If he should stay at home to Day for fear;
No, Cæsar shall not.

Calph.
Alas my Lord,
Your Wisdom is consum'd in Confidence:
Do not go forth to Day: Call it my Fear,
That keeps you in the House, and not your own.
We'll send Mark Anthony to the Senate-House,
And he shall say, you are not well to Day:
Let me upon my Knee prevail in this.

Cæs.
Mark Anthony shall say I am not well,
And for thy Humour, I will stay at home.
Enter Decius.
Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.

Deci.
Cæsar, all hail! Good morrow worthy Cæsar,
I come to fetch you to the Senate-house.

Cæs.
And you are come in very happy time,
To bear my greeting to the Senators,
And tell them that I will not come to Day:
Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser:
I will not come to day, tell them so Decius.

Calp.
Say he is sick.

Cæs.
Shall Cæsar send a Lye?
Have I in Conquest stretch'd my Arm so far,
To be afraid to tell Gray-beards the Truth!
Decius, go tell them, Cæsar will not come.

Deci.
Most mighty Cæsar, let me know some Cause,
Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell 'em so.

Cæs.
The Cause is in my Will, I will not come,
That is enough to satisfie the Senate.
But for your private Satisfaction,
Because I love you, I will let you know.
Calphurnia, here my Wife stays me at home:
She dream'd to Night, she saw my Statue,
Which like a Fountain, with an hundred Spouts,
Did run pure Blood; and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, and did bath their Hands in it;
And these does she apply, for Warnings and Portents,
And Evils imminent; and on her Knee
Hath begg'd, that I will stay at home to Day.

Deci.
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, Relicks, and Cognisance.
This by Calphurnia's Dream is signified.

Cæs.
And this way have you well expounded it.

Deci.
I have, when you have heard what I can say.
The Senate have concluded
To give this Day a Crown to mighty Cæsar.
If you shall send them word you will not come,
Their Minds may change. Besides, it were a mock
Apt to be render'd, for some one to say,
Break up the Senate, till another time:
When Cæsar's Wife shall meet with better Dreams.
If Cæsar hide himself, shall they not whisper
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.

Cæs.
How foolish do your Fears seem now, Calphurnia,
I am asham'd I did yield to them,
For I will go.
Enter Publius.
And look where Publius is come to fetch me.

Pub.
Good-morrow, Cæsar.

Cæs.
Welcome Publius.
Enter Brutus.
What Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too?
Enter Caska and Ligarius.
Good-morrow Caska, Caius, Ligarius;
Cæsar was ne're so much your Enemy,
As that same Ague which hath made you lean.
What is't a Clock?

Brut.
Cæsar, 'tis strucken Eight.

Cæs.
I thank you for your Pains and Courtesy.
Enter Anthony.
See, Anthony that Revels long a Nights,
Is notwithstanding up—Good morrow, Anthony.

Anth.
So to most noble Cæsar.

Cæs.
Bid them prepare within.
Enter Cinna Metellus, Cymber and Trebonius.
I am to blame to be thus waited for.
Now Cinna, now Metellus: What, Trebonius,
I have an Hours Talk in store for you.
Remember that you call on me to Day.
Be near me, that I may remember you.

Treb.
Cæsar I will.

Cæs.
Good Friends, go in, and taste some Wine with me,
And we, like Friends, will straightway go together.

Brut.
O Cæsar!
The Heart of Brutus earns to think upon thee.

[Exeunt.