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114

Actus Secundus.

Enter Brutus in his Orchard.
Brut.
What Lucius, hoe?
I cannot, by the progresse of the Starres,
Giue guesse how neere to day—Lucius, I say?
I would it were my fault to sleepe so soundly.
When Lucius, when? awake, I say: what Lucius?

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

Brut.
Get me a Tapor 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 personall cause, to spurne at him,
But for the generall. 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 craues warie walking: Crowne him that,
And then I graunt we put a Sting in him,
That at his will he may doe danger with.
Th'abuse of Greatnesse, is, when it dis-ioynes
Remorse from Power; And to speake truth of Cæsar,
I haue not knowne, when his Affections sway'd
More then his Reason. But 'tis a common proofe,
That Lowlynesse is young Ambitions Ladder,
Whereto the Climber vpward turnes his Face:
But when he once attaines the vpmost Round,
He then vnto the Ladder turnes his Backe,
Lookes in the Clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend: so Cæsar may;
Then least he may, preuent. And since the Quarrell
Will beare no colour, for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would runne to these, and these extremities:
And therefore thinke him as a Serpents egge,
Which hatch'd, would as his kinde grow mischieuous;
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 vp, and I am sure
It did not lye there when I went to Bed.

Giues him the Letter.
Brut.
Get you to Bed againe, it is not day:
Is not to morrow (Boy) the first of March?

Luc.
I know not, Sir.

Brut.
Looke in the Calender, and bring me word.

Luc.
I will, Sir.

Exit.
Brut.
The exhalations, whizzing in the ayre,
Giue so much light, that I may reade by them.
Opens the Letter, and reades.
Brutus thou sleep'st; awake, and see thy selfe:
Shall Rome, &c. speake, strike, redresse.
Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake.
Such instigations haue beene often dropt,
Where I haue tooke them vp:
Shall Rome, &c. Thus must I piece it out:
Shall Rome stand vnder one mans awe? What Rome?
My Ancestors did from the streetes of Rome
The Tarquin driue, when he was call'd a King.
Speake, strike, redresse. Am I entreated
To speake, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise;
If the redresse will follow, thou receiuest
Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus.

Enter Lucius.
Luc.
Sir, March is wasted fifteene dayes.

Knocke within.
Brut.
'Tis good. Go to the Gate, some body knocks:
Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar,
I haue not slept.
Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing,
And the first motion, all the Interim is
Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dreame:
The Genius, and the mortall Instruments
Are then in councell; and the state of a man,
Like to a little Kingdome, suffers then
The nature of an Insurrection.

Enter Lucius.
Luc.
Sir, 'tis your Brother Cassius at the Doore,
Who doth desire to see you.

Brut.
Is he alone?

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

Brut.
Doe you know them?

Luc.
No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Eares,
And halfe their Faces buried in their Cloakes,
That by no meanes I may discouer them,
By any marke of fauour.

Brut.
Let 'em enter:
They are the Faction. O Conspiracie,
Sham'st thou to shew thy dang'rous Brow by Night,
When euills are most free? O then, by day
Where wilt thou finde a Cauerne darke enough,
To maske thy monstrous Visage? Seek none Conspiracie,
Hide it in Smiles, and Affabilitie:
For if thou path thy natiue semblance on,
Not Erebus it selfe were dimme enough,
To hide thee from preuention.

Enter the Conspirators, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius.
Cass.
I thinke we are too bold vpon your Rest:
Good morrow Brutus, doe we trouble you?

Brut.
I haue beene vp this howre, awake all Night:
Know I these men, that come along with you?

Cass.
Yes, euery man of them; and no man here
But honors you: and euery one doth wish,
You had but that opinion of your selfe,
Which euery Noble Roman beares of you,
This is Trebonius.

Brut.
He is welcome hither.

Cass.
This, Decius Brutus.

Brut.
He is welcome too.

Cass.

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


Brut.
They are all welcome.
What watchfull Cares doe interpose themselues
Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?

Cass.
Shall I entreat a word?

They whisper.
Decius.

Here lyes the East: doth not the Day breake
heere?


Cask.
No.

Cin.
O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey Lines,
That fret the Clouds, are Messengers of Day.

Cask.
You shall confesse, that you are both deceiu'd:
Heere, as I point my Sword, the Sunne arises,
Which is a great way growing on the South,

115

Weighing the youthfull Season of the yeare,
Some two moneths hence, vp higher toward the North
He first presents his fire, and the high East
Stands as the Capitoll, directly heere.

Brut.
Giue me your hands all ouer, one by one.

Cas.
And let vs sweare our Resolution.

Brut.
No, not an Oath: if not the Face of men,
The sufferance of our Soules, the times Abuse;
If these be Motiues weake, breake off betimes,
And euery 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) beare fire enough
To kindle Cowards, and to steele with valour
The melting Spirits of women. Then Countrymen,
What neede we any spurre, but our owne cause
To pricke vs to redresse? What other Bond,
Then secret Romans, that haue spoke the word,
And will not palter? And what other Oath,
Then Honesty to Honesty ingag'd,
That this shall be, or we will fall for it.
Sweare Priests and Cowards, and men Cautelous
Old feeble Carrions, and such suffering Soules
That welcome wrongs: Vnto bad causes, sweare
Such Creatures as men doubt; but do not staine
The euen vertue of our Enterprize,
Nor th'insuppressiue Mettle of our Spirits,
To thinke, that or our Cause, or our Performance
Did neede an Oath. When euery drop of blood
That euery Roman beares, and Nobly beares
Is guilty of a seuerall Bastardie,
If he do breake the smallest Particle
Of any promise that hath past from him.

Cas.
But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?
I thinke he will stand very strong with vs.

Cask.
Let vs not leaue him out.

Cyn.
No, by no meanes.

Metel.
O let vs haue him, for his Siluer haires
Will purchase vs a good opinion:
And buy mens voyces, to commend our deeds:
It shall be sayd, his iudgement rul'd our hands,
Our youths, and wildenesse, shall no whit appeare,
But all be buried in his Grauity.

Bru.
O name him not; let vs not breake with him,
For he will neuer follow any thing
That other men begin.

Cas.
Then leaue him out.

Cask.
Indeed, he is not fit.

Decius.
Shall no man else be toucht, but onely Cæsar?

Cas.
Decius well vrg'd: I thinke it is not meet,
Marke Antony, so well belou'd of Cæsar,
Should out-liue Cæsar, we shall finde of him
A shrew'd Contriuer. And you know, his meanes
If he improue them, may well stretch so farre
As to annoy vs all: which to preuent,
Let Antony and Cæsar fall together.

Bru.
Our course will seeme too bloody, Caius Cassius,
To cut the Head off, and then hacke the Limbes:
Like Wrath in death, and Enuy afterwards:
For Antony, is but a Limbe of Cæsar.
Let's be Sacrificers, but not Butchers Caius:
We all stand vp against the spirit of Cæsar,
And in the Spirit of men, there is no blood:
O that we then could come by Cæsars 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 carue him, as a Dish fit for the Gods,
Not hew him as a Carkasse fit for Hounds:
And let our Hearts, as subtle Masters do,
Stirre vp their Seruants to an acte of Rage,
And after seeme to chide 'em. This shall make
Our purpose Necessary, and not Enuious.
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be call'd Purgers, not Murderers.
And for Marke Antony, thinke not of him:
For he can do no more then Cæsars Arme,
When Cæsars head is off.

Cas.
Yet I feare him,
For in the ingrafted loue he beares to Cæsar.

Bru.
Alas, good Cassius, do not thinke of him:
If he loue Cæsar, all that he can do
Is to himselfe; take thought, and dye for Cæsar,
And that were much he should: for he is giuen
To sports, to wildenesse, and much company.

Treb.
There is no feare in him; let him not dye,
For he will liue, and laugh at this heereafter.

Clocke strikes.
Bru.
Peace, count the Clocke.

Cas.
The Clocke hath stricken three.

Treb.
'Tis time to part.

Cass
But it is doubtfull yet,
Whether Cæsar will come forth to day, or no:
For he is Superstitious growne of late,
Quite from the maine Opinion he held once,
Of Fantasie, of Dreames, and Ceremonies:
It may be, these apparant Prodigies,
The vnaccustom'd Terror of this night,
And the perswasion of his Augurers,
May hold him from the Capitoll to day.

Decius.
Neuer feare that: If he be so resolu'd,
I can ore-sway him: For he loues to heare,
That Vnicornes may be betray'd with Trees,
And Beares with Glasses, Elephants with Holes,
Lyons with Toyles, and men with Flatterers.
But, when I tell him, he hates Flatterers,
He sayes, he does; being then most flattered.
Let me worke:
For I can giue his humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitoll.

Cas.
Nay, we will all of vs, be there to fetch him.

Bru.
By the eight houre, is that the vttermost?

Cin.
Be that the vttermost, and faile not then.

Met.
Caius Ligarius doth beare Cæsar hard,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;
I wonder none of you haue thought of him.

Bru.
Now good Metellus go along by him:
He loues me well, and I haue giuen him Reasons,
Send him but hither, and Ile fashion him.

Cas.
The morning comes vpon's:
Wee'l leaue you Brutus,
And Friends disperse your selues; but all remember
What you haue said, and shew your selues true Romans.

Bru.
Good Gentlemen, looke fresh and merrily,
Let not our lookes put on our purposes,
But beare it as our Roman Actors do,
With vntyr'd Spirits, and formall Constancie,
And so good morrow to you euery one.
Exeunt.
Manet Brutus.
Boy: Lucius: Fast asleepe? It is no matter,
Enioy the hony-heauy-Dew of Slumber:
Thou hast no Figures, nor no Fantasies,

116

Which busie care drawes, in the braines of men;
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

Enter Portia.
Por.
Brutus, my Lord.

Bru.
Portia: What meane you? wherfore rise you now?
It is not for your health, thus to commit
Your weake condition, to the raw cold morning.

Por.
Nor for yours neither. Y'haue vngently Brutus
Stole from my bed: and yesternight at Supper
You sodainly arose, and walk'd about,
Musing, and sighing, with your armes a-crosse:
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You star'd vpon me, with vngentle lookes.
I vrg'd you further, then you scratch'd your head,
And too impatiently stampt with your foote:
Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,
But with an angry wafter of your hand
Gaue signe for me to leaue you: So I did,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience
Which seem'd too much inkindled; and withall,
Hoping it was but an effect of Humor,
Which sometime hath his houre with euery man.
It will not let you eate, nor talke, nor sleepe;
And could it worke so much vpon your shape,
As it hath much preuayl'd on your Condition,
I should not know you Brutus. Deare my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of greefe.

Bru.
I am not well in health, and that is all.

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

Bru.
Why so I do: good Portia go to bed.

Por.
Is Brutus sicke? And is it Physicall
To walke vnbraced, and sucke vp the humours
Of the danke Morning? What, is Brutus sicke?
And will he steale out of his wholsome bed
To dare the vile contagion of the Night?
And tempt the Rhewmy, and vnpurged Ayre,
To adde vnto hit sicknesse? No my Brutus,
You haue some sicke Offence within your minde,
Which by the Right and Vertue of my place
I ought to know of: And vpon my knees,
I charme you, by my once commended Beauty,
By all your vowes of Loue, and that great Vow
Which did incorporate and make vs one,
That you vnfold to me, your selfe; your halfe
Why you are heauy: and what men to night
Haue had resort to you: for heere haue beene
Some sixe or seuen, who did hide their faces
Euen from darknesse.

Bru.
Kneele not gentle Portia.

Por.
I should not neede, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within tho Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus,
Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets
That appertaine to you? Am I your Selfe,
But as it were in sort, or limitation?
To keepe with you at Meales, comfort your Bed,
And talke 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.

Bru.
You are my true and honourable Wife,
As deere to me, as are the ruddy droppes
That visit my sad heart.

Por.
If this were true, then should I know this secret.
I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,
A Woman that Lord Brutus tooke to Wife:
I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,
A Woman well reputed: Cato's Daughter.
Thinke you, I am no stronger then my Sex
Being so Father'd, and so Husbanded?
Tell me your Counsels, I will not disclose 'em:
I haue made strong proofe of my Constancie,
Giuing my selfe a voluntary wound
Heere, in the Thigh: Can I beare that with patience,
And not my Husbands Secrets?

Bru.
O ye Gods!
Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.
Knocke.
Harke, harke, one knockes: Portia go in a while,
And by and by thy bosome shall partake
The secrets of my Heart.
All my engagements, I will construe to thee,
All the Charractery of my sad browes:
Leaue me with hast.
Exit Portia.
Enter Lucius and Ligarius.
Lucius, who's that knockes.

Luc.
Heere is a sicke man that would speak with you.

Bru.
Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?

Cai.
Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.

Bru.
O what a time haue you chose out braue Caius
To weare a Kerchiefe? Would you were not sicke.

Cai.
I am not sicke, if Brutus haue in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of Honor.

Bru.
Such an exploit haue I in hand Ligarius,
Had you a healthfull eare to heare of it.

Cai.
By all the Gods that Romans bow before,
I heere discard my sicknesse. Soule of Rome,
Braue Sonne, deriu'd from Honourable Loines,
Thou like an Exorcist, hast coniur'd vp
My mortified Spirit. Now bid me runne,
And I will striue with things impossible,
Yea get the better of them. What's to do?

Bru.
A peece of worke,
That will make sicke men whole.

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

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

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

Thunder.
Bru.
Follow me then.

Exeunt
Thunder & Lightning. Enter Iulius Cæsar in his Night-gowne.
Cæsar.
Nor Heauen, nor Earth,
Haue beene at peace to night:
Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her sleepe cryed out,
Helpe, ho: They murther Cæsar. Who's within?

Enter a Seruant.
Ser.
My Lord.

Cæs.
Go bid the Priests do present Sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of Successe.

Ser.
I will my Lord.

Exit
Enter Calphurnia.
Cal.
What mean you Cæsar? Think you to walk forth?
You shall not stirre out of your house to day.

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


117

Calp.
Cæsar, I neuer stood on Ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me: There is one within,
Besides the things that we haue heard and seene,
Recounts most horrid sights seene by the Watch.
A Lionnesse hath whelped in the streets,
And Graues haue yawn'd, and yeelded vp their dead;
Fierce fiery Warriours fight vpon the Clouds
In Rankes and Squadrons, and right forme of Warre
Which drizel'd blood vpon the Capitoll:
The noise of Battell hurtled in the Ayre:
Horsses do neigh, and dying men did grone,
And Ghosts did shrieke and squeale about the streets.
O Cæsar, these things are beyond all vie,
And I do feare them.

Cæs.
What can be a auoyded
Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet Cæsar shall go forth: for these Predictions
Are to the world in generall, as to Cæsar.

Calp.
When Beggers dye, there are no Comets seen,
The Heauens themselues blaze forth the death of Princes

Cæs.
Cowards dye many times before their deaths,
The valiant neuer taste of death but once:
Of all the Wonders that I yet haue heard,
It seemes to me most strange that men should feare,
Seeing that death, a necessary end
Will come, when it will come.
Enter a Seruant.
What say the Augurers?

Ser.
They would not haue you to stirre forth to day.
Plucking the intrailes of an Offering forth,
They could not finde a heart within the beast.

Cæs.
The Gods do this in shame of Cowardice:
Cæsar should be a Beast without a heart
If he should stay at home to day for feare:
No Cæsar shall not; Danger knowes full well
That Cæsar is more dangerous then he.
We heare two Lyons litter'd in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible,
And Cæsar shall go foorth.

Calp.
Alas my Lord,
Your wisedome is consum'd in confidence:
Do not go forth to day: Call it my feare,
That keepes you in the house, and not your owne.
Wee'l send Mark Antony to the Senate house,
And he shall say, you are not well to day:
Let me vpon my knee, preuaile in this.

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

Deci.
Cæsar, all haile: Good morrow worthy Cæsar,
I come to fetch you to the Senate house.

Cæs.
And you are come in very happy time,
To beare 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 sicke.

Cæs.
Shall Cæsar send a Lye?
Haue I in Conquest stretcht mine Arme so farre,
To be afear'd 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 laught at when I tell them so.

Cæs.
The cause is in my Will, I will not come,
That is enough to satisfie the Senate.
But for your priuate satisfaction,
Because I loue you, I will let you know.
Calphurnia heere my wife, stayes me at home:
She dreampt to night, she saw my Statue,
Which like a Fountaine, with an hundred spouts
Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, & did bathe their hands in it:
And these does she apply, for warnings and portents,
And euils imminent; and on her knee
Hath begg'd, that I will stay at home to day.

Deci.
This Dreame is all amisse interpreted,
It was a vision, faire and fortunate:
Your Statue spouting blood in many pipes,
In which so many smiling Romans bath'd,
Signifies, that from you great Rome shall sucke
Reuiuing blood, and that great men shall presse
For Tinctures, Staines, Reliques, and Cognisance.
This by Calphurnia's Dreame is signified.

Cæs.
And this way haue you well expounded it.

Deci.
I haue, when you haue heard what I can say:
And know it now, the Senate haue concluded
To giue this day, a Crowne to mighty Cæsar.
If you shall send them word you will not come,
Their mindes may change. Besides, it were a mocke
Apt to be render'd, for some one to say,
Breake vp the Senate, till another time:
When Cæsars wife shall meete with better Dreames.
If Cæsar hide himselfe, shall they not whisper
Loe Cæsar is affraid?
Pardon me Cæsar, for my deere deere loue
To your proceeding, bids me tell you this:
And reason to my loue is liable.

Cæs.
How foolish do your fears seeme now Calphurnia?
I am ashamed I did yeeld to them.
Giue me my Robe, for I will go.
Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Caska, Trebonius, Cynna, and Publius.
And looke where Publius is come to fetch me.

Pub.
Good morrow Cæsar.

Cæs.
Welcome Publius.
What Brutus, are you stirr'd so earely too?
Good morrow Caska: Caius Ligarius,
Cæsar was ne're so much your enemy,
As that same Ague which hath made you leane.
What is't a Clocke?

Bru.
Cæsar, 'tis strucken eight.

Cæs.
I thanke you for your paines and curtesie.
Enter Antony.
See, Antony that Reuels long a-nights
Is notwithstanding vp. Good morrow Antony.

Ant.
So to most Noble Cæsar

Cæs.
Bid them prepare within:
I am too blame to be thus waited for.
Now Cynna, now Metellus: what Trebonius.
I haue an houres talke in store for you:
Remember that you call on me to day:
Be neere me, that I may remember you.

Treb.
Cæsar I will: and so neere will I be,
That your best Friends shall wish I had beene further.

Cæs.
Good Friends go in, and taste some wine with me.
And we (like Friends) will straight way go together.

Bru.
That euery like is not the same, O Cæsar,
The heart of Brutus earnes to thinke vpon.

Exeunt.
Enter Artemidorus.

Cæsar, beware of Brutus, take heede of Cassius; come not


118

neere Caska, haue an eye to Cynna, trust not Trebonius, marke
well Metellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loues thee not: Thou
hast wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one minde in all
these men, and it is bent against Cæsar: If thou beest not Immortall,
looke about you: Security giues way to Conspiracie.
The mighty Gods defend thee.

Thy Louer, Artemidorus.

Heere will I stand, till Cæsar passe along,
And as a Sutor will I giue him this:
My heart laments, that Vertue cannot liue
Out of the teeth of Emulation.
If thou reade this. O Cæsar, thou mayest liue;
If not, the Fates with Traitors do contriue.

Exit.
Enter Portia and Lucius.
Por.
I prythee Boy, run to the Senate-house,
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
Why doest thou stay?

Luc.
To know my errand Madam.

Por.
I would haue had thee there and heere agen
Ere I can tell thee what thou should'st do there:
O Constancie, be strong vpon my side,
Set a huge Mountaine 'tweene my Heart and Tongue:
I haue a mans minde, but a womans might:
How hard it is for women to keepe counsell.
Art thou heere yet?

Luc.
Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitoll, and nothing else?
And so returne to you, and nothing else?

Por.
Yes, bring me word Boy, if thy Lord look well,
For he went sickly forth: and take good note
What Cæsar doth, what Sutors presse to him.
Hearke Boy, what noyse is that?

Luc.
I heare none Madam.

Por.
Prythee listen well:
I heard a bussling Rumor like a Fray,
And the winde brings it from the Capitoll.

Luc.
Sooth Madam, I heare nothing.

Enter the Soothsayer.
Por.
Come hither Fellow, which way hast thou bin?

Sooth.
At mine owne house, good Lady.

Por.
What is't a clocke?

Sooth.
About the ninth houre Lady.

Por.
Is Cæsar yet gone to the Capitoll?

Sooth.
Madam not yet, I go to take my stand,
To see him passe on to the Capitoll.

Por.
Thou hast some suite to Cæsar, hast thou not?

Sooth.
That I haue Lady, if it will please Cæsar
To be so good to Cæsar, as to heare me:
I shall beseech him to befriend himselfe.

Por.

Why know'st thou any harme's intended towards
him?


Sooth.
None that I know will be,
Much that I feare may chance:
Good morrow to you: heere the street is narrow:
The throng that followes Cæsar at the heeles,
Of Senators, of Prætors, common Sutors,
Will crowd a feeble man (almost) to death:
Ile get me to a place more voyd, and there
Speake to great Cæsar as he comes along.

Exit
Por.
I must go in:
Aye me! How weake a thing
The heart of woman is? O Brutus,
The Heauens speede thee in thine enterprize.
Sure the Boy heard me: Brutus hath a suite
That Cæsar will not grant. O, I grow faint:
Run Lucius, and commend me to my Lord,
Say I am merry; Come to me againe,
And bring me word what he doth say to thee.

Exeunt