Flav.
Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home:
Is this a holiday? what! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day without the sign
Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?

First Com. ^note
Why, sir, a carpenter.

Mar.
Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
You, sir, what trade are you?

Sec. Com. ^note

Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you ^note would say, a cobbler.

Mar.

But what trade art thou? answer me directly.

Sec. Com. ^note

A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles ^note.

Mar. ^note

What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

Sec. Com. ^note

Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be ^note out, sir, I can mend you.

Mar. ^note

What mean'st thou ^note by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow!

Sec. Com.

Why, sir, cobble you.

Flav.

Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

Sec. Com.

Truly, sir, all that I live by is with ^note the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's ^note matters, nor women's ^note matters, but with awl. I ^note am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover ^note them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather have gone upon my handiwork.

Flav.
But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? ^note

Sec. Com.

Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar.
Wherefore rejoice? What conquest ^note brings he home? ^note
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft

Have ^note you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, ^note yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day with patient expectation
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: ^note
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tiber trembled underneath her ^note banks
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her ^note concave shores ^note?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a ^note holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way
That comes ^note in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone! ^note
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.

Flav.
Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this ^note fault,
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tiber banks ^note and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. [Exeunt ^note all the Commoners.
See, whether ^note their basest metal ^note be not moved;
They vanish ^note tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I: disrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies ^note.

Mar.
May we do so?
You know it is the feast of Lupercal ^note.

Flav.
It is ^note no matter; let no ^note images
Be hung with ^note Cæsar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar's wing
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soar above the view of men
And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene II. [Footnote: A public place. ^note Flourish. Enter ^note Cæsar; Antony, for the course; Calpurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer.

Cæs.
Calpurnia ^note!

Casca.
Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks. [Music ceases. ^note

Cæs.
Calpurnia!

Cal.
Here, my lord.

Cæs.
Stand you directly in Antonius' ^note way,
When he doth run his course. Antonius ^note!

Ant.
Cæsar, ^note my lord?

Cæs.
Forget not, in your speed, Antonius ^note,
To touch Calpurnia ^note; for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse ^note.

Ant.
I shall remember:
When Cæsar says ‘do this,’ it is perform'd.

Cæs.
Set on, and leave no ceremony out. [Flourish. ^note

Sooth.
Cæsar!

Cæs.
Ha! who calls? ^note

Casca.
Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! ^note

Cæs.
Who is it in the press that calls on me?
I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
Cry ‘Cæsar.’ Speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear.

Sooth.
Beware the ides of March.

Cæs.
What man is that?

Bru.
A soothsayer bids ^note you ^note beware the ides of March.

Cæs.
Set him before me; let me see his face.

Cas. ^note
Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Cæsar.

Cæs.
What say'st thou to me now? speak once again.

Sooth.
Beware the ides of March.

Cæs.
He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. [Sennet. ^note Exeunt ^note all but Brutus and Cassius. ^note

Cas.
Will you go see the order of the course?

Bru.
Not I.

Cas.
I pray you, do.

Bru.
I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
I'll leave you ^note.

Cas.
Brutus, I do observe you now ^note of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And show of love as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves ^note you.

Bru.
Cassius,
Be not deceived: if I have veil'd ^note my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
Of late with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviours ^note;
But let not therefore my good friends be grieved—
Among which number, Cassius, be you one—
Nor construe any further ^note my neglect
Than that poor Brutus with himself at war
Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cas.
Then, Brutus, I have much mistook ^note your passion;
By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face ^note?

Bru.
No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself ^note
But by reflection, by some ^note other things ^{note note}.

Cas.
'Tis just: ^note
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors ^note as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard ^note
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
Except immortal Cæsar, speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru.
Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius ^note,
That you would have me seek into myself

For that which is not in me?

Cas.
Therefore ^note, good Brutus, be prepared to hear:
And since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I your glass
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet ^note know not of.
And be not jealous on ^note me, gentle Brutus:
Were ^note I a common laugher ^note, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or if you know
That I profess myself ^note in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. [Flourish and shout.

Bru.
What means this shouting? I do fear, the people
Choose Cæsar for their king ^note.

Cas.
Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.

Bru.
I would not, Cassius, yet I love him well.
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye and death i' the other,
And I will look on both ^note indifferently,
For let the gods so speed me as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.

Cas.
I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.
I cannot tell what you and other men
Think of this life, but, for ^note my single self,

I had as lief not be as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæsar; so were you:
We both have fed as well, and we can both
Endure the winter's cold as well as he:
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tiber chafing ^note with her ^note shores,
Cæsar said ^note to me ‘Darest thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?’ Upon the word,
Accoutred ^note as I was, I plunged in
And bade ^note him follow: so indeed he did.
The torrent roar'd, and we ^note did buffet it
With lusty sinews, throwing it aside
And stemming it with hearts of controversy; ^note
But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
Cæsar cried ‘Help me, Cassius, or I sink!’
I ^note, as Æneas our great ancestor
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear ^note, so from the waves of Tiber ^note
Did I the tired Cæsar: and this man
Is now become a god, and Cassius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body
If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.
He had a fever ^note when he was in Spain,
And when the fit was on him, I did mark
How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake;
His coward lips did from their colour fly,
And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world
Did lose his ^note lustre: I did hear him groan:
Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans

Mark him and write ^note his speeches in their books,
Alas ^note, it cried, ‘Give me some drink, Titinius,’
As a sick girl. Ye gods! it doth amaze me
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world
And bear the palm alone. [Shout. Flourish. ^note

Bru.
Another general ^note shout!
I do believe that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar.

Cas.
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men at some time ^note are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Brutus, and Cæsar: what should be in that ^note Cæsar?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is ^note as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em ^note, ^note
Brutus will start a spirit ^note as soon as Cæsar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
When went there by an age, since the great flood,
But it was famed with more than with one man?
When could they say till now that talk'd of Rome
That her wide walls ^note encompass'd but one man?

Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man. ^note
O, you and I have heard our fathers say
There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
The eternal ^note devil to keep his state in Rome
As easily as a king.

Bru.
That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; ^note
What you would work me to, I have some aim ^note:
How I have thought ^note of this and of these times,
I shall recount hereafter; for this present,
I would not, so with love I might entreat you, ^note
Be any further ^note moved. What you have said
I will consider; what you have to say
I will with patience hear, and find a time ^note
Both meet to hear and answer such high things.
Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this:
Brutus had rather be a villager
Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under these ^note hard conditions as ^note this time
Is like to lay upon us.

Cas.
I am glad that my weak words ^note
Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. ^{note note}

Bru.
The games are done, and Cæsar is returning.

Cas.
As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; ^note
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. Re-enter ^note Cæsar and his Train.

Bru.
I will do so: but, look you, Cassius,

The angry spot doth glow ^note on Cæsar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train:
Calpurnia's cheek is pale, and Cicero
Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes
As we have seen him in the Capitol,
Being cross'd in conference by ^note some senators ^note.

Cas.
Casca will tell us what the matter is.

Cæs.
Antonius ^note!

Ant.
Cæsar? ^note

Cæs.
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights ^note:
Yond ^note Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.

Ant.
Fear him not, Cæsar; he's not dangerous;
He is a noble Roman, and well given.

Cæs.
Would he were fatter! but I fear him ^note not:
Yet if my name were liable to fear,
I do not know the man I should avoid
So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;
He is a great observer, and he looks
Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,
As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music:
Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit
That could be moved to smile at any thing.
Such men as he be ^note never at heart's ease
Whiles ^note they behold a greater than themselves,
And therefore are they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd
Than what I fear; for always I am Cæsar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,

And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. [Sennet. Exeunt ^note Cæsar and all his Train but Casca. ^note

Casca.
You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?

Bru.
Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day,
That Cæsar looks so sad.

Casca.
Why, you were with him, were you not? ^note

Bru.
I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.

Casca.

Why, there was a crown offered him: and being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus: and then the people fell a-shouting ^note.

Bru.

What was the second noise for?

Casca.

Why ^note, for that too.

Cas.

They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?

Casca.

Why ^note, for that too.

Bru.

Was the crown offered him ^note thrice?

Casca.

Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by mine honest neighbours shouted.

Cas.

Who offered him the crown?

Casca.

Why, Antony.

Bru.

Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.

Casca.

I can as well be hang'd as tell the manner of it: it was ^note mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown: yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets: and, as I told you, he put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again; then he put it by again: but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by: and still as he refused it, the rabblement hooted ^note

and clapped their chopped ^note hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Cæsar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; for he swounded ^note and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air.

Cas.

But, soft, I pray you: what, did Cæsar swound ^note?

Casca.

He fell down in the market-place and foamed at mouth and was speechless.

Bru.
'Tis very like: he ^note hath the falling-sickness.

Cas.
No, Cæsar hath it not; but you, and I,
And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness.

Casca.

I know not what you mean by that, but I am sure Cæsar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use ^note to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man.

Bru.

What said he when he came unto himself?

Casca.

Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut. An ^note I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word ^note, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, if he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried ‘Alas, good soul!’ and forgave him with all their hearts: but there's no ^note heed to be taken of them; if Cæsar had stabbed ^note their mothers, they would have done no less.

Bru.

And after that, he came, thus sad, away? ^note

Casca.

Ay.

Cas.

Did Cicero say any thing?

Casca.

Ay, he spoke Greek.

Cas.

To what effect?

Casca.

Nay, an ^note I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' the face again: but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too:Marullus ^note and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Cæsar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Cas.

Will you sup with me to-night, Casca?

Casca.

No, I am promised forth.

Cas.

Will you dine with me to-morrow?

Casca.

Ay, if I be alive, and your mind ^note hold, and your dinner worth ^note the eating.

Cas.
Good; I will expect you.

Casca.
Do so: farewell, both. [Exit.

Bru.
What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
He was quick mettle ^note when he went to school.

Cas.
So is he now in execution
Of any bold or noble enterprise,
However he puts on this tardy form.
This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,
Which gives men stomach to digest ^note his words
With better appetite ^note.

Bru.
And so it is. For this time ^note I will leave you ^{note note}:
To-morrow, if you ^note please to speak with ^note me,
I will come ^note home to you, or, if you will,

Come home to ^note me and I will wait for you.

Cas.
I will do so: till then, think of the world. [Exit Brutus.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet ^note, I see,
Thy honourable metal ^note may be wrought
From that ^note it is disposed ^note: therefore ^note it is ^note meet
That noble minds keep ever with their likes;
For who so firm that cannot be seduced?
Cæsar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus:
If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,
He should not humour ^note me. I will this night,
In several hands, in at his windows throw,
As if they came from several citizens,
Writings, all tending to the great opinion
That Rome holds of his name, wherein obscurely
Cæsar's ambition shall be glanced at:
And after this let Cæsar seat him sure;
For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit. ^note Scene III. [Footnote: A street. ^note Thunder and lightning. Enter ^note, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero.

Cic.
Good even, Casca: brought you Cæsar home?
Why are you breathless? and why stare you so?

Casca.
Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth
Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds
Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen
The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,
To be exalted with the threatening clouds;
But never till to-night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire ^note.
Either there is a civil strife in heaven,
Or else the world too saucy with the gods
Incenses them to send destruction.

Cic.
Why, saw you any thing more wonderful?

Casca.
A common slave—you know ^note him well by sight—
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand
Not sensible of fire remain'd unscorch'd.
Besides—I ha' ^note not since put up my sword—
Against the Capitol I met a lion,
Who glared ^note upon me and went surly ^note by
Without annoying me: and there were drawn
Upon ^note a heap a hundred ghastly women
Transformed 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,
Hooting ^note and shrieking. When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say
‘These are their reasons ^note: they are natural:’
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the climate that they point upon.

Cic.
Indeed, it is a strange-disposed ^note time:
But men may construe things after their fashion,

Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Comes Cæsar to ^note the Capitol to-morrow?

Casca.
He doth; for he did bid Antonius ^note
Send word to you he would be there to-morrow.

Cic.
Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky
Is not to walk in. ^note

Casca.
Farewell, Cicero. [Exit Cicero. ^noteEnter Cassius.

Cas.
Who's there?

Casca.
A Roman.

Cas.
Casca, by your voice.

Casca.
Your ear is good. Cassius, what night ^note is this! ^{note note}

Cas.
A very pleasing night to honest men.

Casca.
Who ever knew the heavens ^note 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,
And thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,
Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone;
And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
Even in the aim and very flash of it.

Casca.
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.

Cas.
You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life
That ^note should be in a Roman you do want,
Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze

And put on fear and cast ^note yourself in wonder, ^note
To see the strange impatience of the heavens:
But if you would consider the true cause
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, ^note
Why old men fool and ^note children calculate,
Why all these things change, from their ordinance,
Their natures and preformed faculties,
To monstrous quality, why, you shall find
That heaven ^note hath ^note infused them with these spirits
To make them instruments of fear and warning
Unto some monstrous state.
Now could I, Casca, name to ^note thee a man
Most like this dreadful night, ^note
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars ^note
As doth the lion in ^note the Capitol,
A man no mightier than thyself or me
In personal action, yet prodigious grown
And fearful, as these strange ^note eruptions are.

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

Cas.
Let it be who it is: for Romans now
Have thews ^note 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 sufferance show us womanish.

Casca.
Indeed they say ^note 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:
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
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. [Thunder still. ^note

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, O 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 fleering tell-tale. Hold, my ^note 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 moved already

Some certain of the noblest-minded ^note Romans
To undergo with me an enterprise
Of honourable-dangerous ^note consequence;
And I do know, by this they ^note stay for me
In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night,
There is no stir or walking in the streets,
And the complexion of the element ^note
In favour's like ^note the work we have in hand,
Most bloody, fiery ^note, and most terrible. Enter Cinna. ^{note note}

Casca.
Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.

Cas.
'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait ^note;
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 ^note. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?

Cin.
I am ^note glad on't. What a fearful night is this! ^{note note}
There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.

Cas.
Am I not stay'd for? ^note tell me.

Cin.
Yes, you are.
O Cassius, if you could
But win ^note the noble Brutus to our party— ^note

Cas.
Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper,
And look you lay it in the prætor's chair,
Where Brutus may but ^note find it, and throw this
In at his window; set this up with wax
Upon old Brutus' ^note statue: all this done,
Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us.
Is Decius ^note 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 bade ^note 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
Is ^note ours already, and the man entire
Upon the next encounter yields him ours.

Casca.
O, he sits high in all the people's hearts;
And that which would appear offence in us
His countenance, like richest alchemy,
Will change to virtue and to worthiness.

Cas.
Him and his worth and our great need of him
You have right well conceited. Let us go,
For it is after midnight, and ere day
We will awake him and be sure of him. [Exeunt.

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