Cæsar.
The Ides of March are come.

Sooth.
Ay, Cæsar, but not gone.

Art.
Hail, Cæsar. Read this schedule.

Dec.
Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read
At your best leisure, this his humble suit.

Art.
O Cæsar, read mine first; for mine's a suit,
That touches Cæsar nearer. Read it, great Cæsar.

Cæs.
What touches us ourself, shall be last serv'd.

Art.
Delay not Cæsar, read it instantly.

Cæs.
What, is the fellow mad?

Pub.
Sirrah, give place.

Cas.
What, urge you your petitions in the street?
Come to the Capitol.

Pop.
I wish, your enterprize to-day may thrive.

Cas.
What enterprize, Popilius?

Pop.
Fare you well.

Bru.
What said Popilius Lena?

Cas.
He wish'd, to-day our enterprize might thrive.
I fear, our purpose is discovered.

Bru.
Look, how he makes to Cæsar. Mark him.

Cas.
Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.
Brutus, what shall be done, if this be known?
Cassius, or Cæsar, never shall turn back;
For I will slay myself.

Bru.
Cassius, be constant.
Popilius Lena speaks not of our purpose;
For, look, he smiles, and Cæsar doth not change.

Cas.
Trebonius knows his time; for look you, Brutus,
He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

Dec.
Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,
And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar.

Bru.
He is addrest; press near, and second him.

Cin.
Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.

Cæs.
Are we all ready? what is now amiss,
That Cæsar and his Senate must redress?

Met.
Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Cæsar,
Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat [Kneeling.
An humble heart.

Cæs.
I must prevent thee, Cimber.
These couchings and these lowly curtesies
^{4 note}

^{5 note}And turn pre-ordinance and first decree
^{6 note}Into the lane of children. Be not fond,
To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood,
That will be thaw'd from the true quality
With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words;
Low-crooked curtsies, and base spaniel-fawning.
Thy brother by decree is banished;
If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him,
I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.
Know, Cæsar doth not wrong; nor without cause
Will he be satisfied.

Met.
Is there no voice more worthy than my own,
To sound more sweetly in great Cæsar's ear,
For the repealing of my banish'd brother?

Bru.
I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæsar;
Desiring thee, that Publius Cimber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

Cæs.
What, Brutus!

Cas.
Pardon, Cæsar; Cæsar, pardon;
As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,
To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.

Cæs.
I could be well mov'd, if I were as you;
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me;
But I am constant as the northern star,
Of whose true, fixt, and resting quality,
There is no fellow in the firmament;
The skies are painted with unnumbred sparks,
They are all fire, and every one doth shine;
But there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So, in the world, 'tis furnish'd well with men,

And men are flesh and blood, and ^{7 note}apprehensive;
Yet, in the number, I do know ^{8 note}but one
That unassailable ^{9 note}holds on his rank,
Unshak'd of motion: and that I am he
Let me a little shew it, ev'n in this;
That I was constant, Cimber should be banish'd;
And constant do remain to keep him so.

Cim.
O Cæsar—

Cæs.
Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus?

Dec.
Great Cæsar—

Cæs.
^{1 note}
Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?

Casca.
Speak hands for me. [They stab Cæsar.

Cæs.
Et tu, Brute?—Then fall Cæsar! [Dies.

Cin.
Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead—
Run hence, proclaim. Cry it about the streets.

Cas.
Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out,
Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement.

Bru.
People, and Senators! be not affrighted;
Fly not, stand still. Ambition's debt is paid.

Casca.
Go to the Pulpit, Brutus.

Dec.
And Cassius too.

Bru.
Where's Publius?

Cin.
Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.

Met.
Stand fast together, lest some friends of Cæsar's
Should chance—

Bru.
Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer;
There is no harm intended to your person,
Nor to no Roman else; so tell them, Publius.

Cas.
And leave us, Publius, lest that the people,
Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.

Bru.
Do so; and let no man abide this deed,
But we the Doers.

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