Trebonius.
Good even, Casca; brought you Cæsar home;* ^note
Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?

Casca.
Are you not 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 dropping fire:
Either there is a civil strife in heav'n;
Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,
Incenses them to send destruction.

Tre.
Why saw you any thing more wonderful?

Casca.
A common slave, you know him well by sight,
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn,
Like twenty torches joined; and yet his hand,
Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.
Besides, (I ha' not since put up my sword)
Against the capitol I met a lion,
Who glar'd upon me, and went surly by,
Without annoying me.
And yesterday, the bird of night did sit,
Ev'n at noon day, upon the market-place,
Houting and shrieking. When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say,
“That they are natural.”

For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the climate that they point upon.* ^note

Tre.
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?

Casca.
He doth; for he did bid Antonius
Send word to you to meet him there, to-morrow.

Tre.
Good night then Casca, this disturbed sky
Is not to walk in.

Casca.
Farewel, Trebonius. [Exit Tre. Enter Cassius.

Cas.
Who's there?

Casca.
A Roman.

Cas.
Casca, by your voice.

Casca.
Your ear is good, Cassius, what night is this!

Cas.
A very pleasing night to honest men.

Casca.
Who ever knew the heavens menace so?

Cas.
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;
Have bar'd my bosom to the thunder-stone:
And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
Ev'n in the aim and very flash of it.

Casca.
But wherefore did you so much tempt the heav'ns?
It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty gods, by tokens, send
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.

Cas.
You are dull, Casca; and those sparks of life,
That should be in a Roman, you do want,
Or else you use not; you look pale and gaze,
And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder,
To see the strange impatience of the heav'ns:

Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man,
Most like this dreadful night;† ^note
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
As doth the lion in the capitol;
A man no mightier than thyself or me,
In personal action; yet prodigious grown,
And fearful as these strange eruptions are.

Casca.
'Tis Cæsar that you mean, is it not, Cassius?

Cas.
Let it be who it is; for Romans now
Have thewes and limbs like to their ancestors;
But, woe the while! our fathers minds are dead,
And we are govern'd with our mothers spirits;
Our yoke and suff'rance shew us womanish.

Casca.
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.

Cas.
I know where I will wear this dagger, then.‡ ^note
Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius.
Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat:
&blquo;Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
&blquo;Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit:
But life being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
If I know this, know all the world besides,
That part of tyranny, that I do bear,
I can shake off, at pleasure.

Casca.
So can I:
So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.

Cas.
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 lion, were not Romans hinds.
Those that with haste will 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 bondman; then I know,
My answer must be made. But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent.

Casca.
You speak to Casca, and to such a man,
That is no flearing tell-tale. Hold my hand:
Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
And I will set this foot of mine as far,
As who goes farthest.

Cas.
There's a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the noblest minded Romans,
To undergo, with me, an enterprize,
Of honourable dang'rous consequence;
And I do know, by this they stay for me,
In Pompey's porch. Enter Cinna.

Casca.
Stand close a while, for here comes one in haste.

Cas.
'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait;
He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?

Cin.
To find out you: who's that, Metellus Cimber?

Cas.
No, it is Casca, one incorporate
To our attempts. Am I not staid for, Cinna?

Cin.
Yes, you are.
O Cassius! could you win the noble Brutus
To our party—

Cas.
Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper:
And look you lay it in the prætor's chair,

Where Brutus may but 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.
Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?

Cin.
All but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone
To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these papers, as you bid me.

Cas.
That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. [Exit Cinna.
Come, Casca, you and I will, yet ere day,
See Brutus at his house; three parts of him
Are ours already, and the man intire,
Upon the next encounter, yields him ours. [Exeunt.

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