Cas.
I think, we are too bold upon your Rest;
Good morrow, Brutus, do we trouble you?

Bru.
I have been up this hour, awake all night.
Know I these men, that come along with you? [Aside.

Cas.
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.

Bru.
He is welcome hither.

Cas.
This, Decius Brutus.

Bru.
He is welcome too.

Cas.
This, Casca; this, Cinna;
And this, Metellus Cimber.

Bru.
They are all welcome.
What watchful cares do interpose themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

Cas.
Shall I entreat a word? [They whisper.

Dec.
Here lies the East: doth not the day break here?

Casca.
No.

Cin.
O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey lines,
That fret the Clouds, are messengers of day.

Casca.
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.

Bru.
Give me your hands all over, one by one.

Cas.
And let us swear our resolution.

&wlquo;Bru.
&wlquo;^{5 note}

&wlquo;The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,—
&wlquo;If these be motives weak, break off betimes;
&wlquo;And ev'ry man hence to his idle bed:
&wlquo;So let ^{6 note}high-sighted tyranny range on,
&wlquo;'Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
&wlquo;As I am sure they do, bear fire enough
&wlquo;To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour
&wlquo;The melting spirits of women; then, countrymen,
&wlquo;What need we any spur, but our own cause,
&wlquo;To prick us to redress? what other bond,
&wlquo;Than ^{7 note}secret Romans, that have spoke the word,
&wlquo;And will not palter? and what other oath,
&wlquo;Than honesty to honesty engag'd,
&wlquo;That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
&wlquo;Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous.
&wlquo;Old feeble carrions, and such suffering souls
&wlquo;That welcome wrongs: unto bad causes, swear
&wlquo;Such creatures as men doubt; but ^{8 note}

&wlquo;To think, that or our cause, or our performance,
&wlquo;Did need an oath:&wrquo; When ev'ry drop of blood,
That ev'ry Roman bears, and nobly bears,
Is guilty of a several bastardy,
If he doth break the smallest particle
Of any promise that hath past from him.

Cas.
But what of Cicero? shall we sound him?
I think, he will stand very strong with us.

Casca.
Let us not leave him out.

Cin.
No, by no means.

Met.
O let us have him, for his silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion,
And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:
It shall be said, his Judgment rul'd our hands;
Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
But all be buried in his gravity.

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

Cas.
Then leave him out.

Casca.
Indeed, he is not fit.

Dec.
Shall no man else be touch'd, but only Cæsar?

Cas.
Decius, well urg'd: I think, it is not meet,
Mark Antony, 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 Antony and Cæsar fall together.

Bru.
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 Antony is but a limb of Cæsar.
Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius;
We all stand up against the spirit of Cæsar,
And in the spirit of man 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—&wlquo;And, gentle friends,
&wlquo;Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
&wlquo;Let's carve him as a dish fit for the Gods,
&wlquo;Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.
&wlquo;And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
&wlquo;Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
&wlquo;And after seem to chide them.&wrquo; This shall make
Our purpose necessary, and not envious:
Which, so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be call'd Purgers, not murtherers.
And for Mark Antony, think not of him;
For he can do no more than Cæsar's arm,
When Cæsar's head is off.

Cas.
Yet I do fear him;
For in th' ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar—

Bru.
Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he love Cæsar, all that he can do
Is to himself, take thought, and die for Cæsar:
And that were much, he should; for he is giv'n
To sports, to wildness, and much company.

Treb.
There is no fear in him; let him not die;
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. [Clock strikes.

Bru.
Peace, count the clock.

Cas.
The clock hath stricken three.

Treb.
'Tis time to part.

Cas.
But it is doubtful yet,

If Cæsar will come forth to day, or no:
^{9 note}

Dec.
Never fear that; if he be so resolv'd,
I can o'er-sway him; ^{1 note}&wlquo;for he loves to hear,
&wlquo;That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
&wlquo;And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
&wlquo;Lions with toils, and men with flatterers.
&wlquo;But when I tell him, he hates flatterers,
&wlquo;He says he does; being then most flattered.&wrquo;
Leave me to work:
For I can give his humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitol.

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

Bru.
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.

Bru.
Now, good Metellus, go along to him:
He loves me well; and I have giv'n him reasons;
Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

Cas.
The morning comes upon's; we'll leave you, Brutus;
And, friends! disperse your selves; but all remember
What you have said, and shew your selves true Romans.

Bru.
Good Gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
Let not our looks put on our purposes;
But bear it, as our Roman actors do,
With untir'd spirits, and formal constancy;
And so, good morrow to you every one. [Exeunt. Manet Brutus.
Boy! Lucius! fast asleep? it is no matter,
&wlquo;Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of Slumber:
&wlquo;Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies,
&wlquo;Which busie care draws in the brains of men;
&wlquo;Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.&wrquo;

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