Flauius. Hence: home you idle Creatures, get you home:Is this a Holiday? What, know you not(Being Mechanicall) you ought not walkeVpon a labouring day, without the signeOf your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou? Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter Mur. Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on?You sir, what Trade are you? Cobl. Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I ambut as you would say, a CoblerMur. But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly Cob. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safeConscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules Fla. What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue,what Trade? Cobl. Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yetif you be out Sir, I can mend you Mur. What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thousawcy Fellow? Cob. Why sir, Cobble youFla. Thou art a Cobler, art thou? Cob. Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens matters; but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes: when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As proper men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vpon my handy-workeFla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day? Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets? Cob. Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holyday to see Caesar, and to reioyce in his Triumph Mur. Wherefore reioyce?What Conquest brings he home?What Tributaries follow him to Rome,To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles?You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things:O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome,Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft?Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements,To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops,Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sateThe liue-long day, with patient expectation,To see great Pompey passe the streets of Rome:And when you saw his Chariot but appeare,Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout,That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankesTo heare the replication of your sounds,Made in her Concaue Shores?And do you now put on your best attyre?And do you now cull out a Holyday?And do you now strew Flowers in his way,That comes in Triumph ouer Pompeyes blood?Be gone,Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees,Pray to the Gods to intermit the plagueThat needs must light on this Ingratitude Fla. Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this faultAssemble all the poore men of your sort;Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your tearesInto the Channell, till the lowest streameDo kisse the most exalted Shores of all.Exeunt. all the Commoners.See where their basest mettle be not mou'd,They vanish tongue-tyed in their guiltinesse:Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll,This way will I: Disrobe the Images,If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies Mur. May we do so?You know it is the Feast of Lupercall Fla. It is no matter, let no ImagesBe hung with Caesars Trophees: Ile about,And driue away the Vulgar from the streets;So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke.These growing Feathers, pluckt from Caesars wing,Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,Who else would soare aboue the view of men,And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.Exeunt.Enter Caesar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer: after them Murellus and Flauius.Caes. CalphurniaCask. Peace ho, Caesar speakesCaes. CalphurniaCalp. Heere my Lord Caes. Stand you directly in Antonio's way,When he doth run his course. AntonioAnt. Cćsar, my Lord Caes. Forget not in your speed Antonio,To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders say,The Barren touched in this holy chace,Shake off their sterrile curse Ant. I shall remember,When Caesar sayes, Do this; it is perform'dCaes. Set on, and leaue no Ceremony outSooth. Caesar Caes. Ha? Who calles? Cask. Bid euery noyse be still: peace yet againe Caes. Who is it in the presse, that calles on me?I heare a Tongue shriller then all the MusickeCry, Caesar: Speake, Caesar is turn'd to heareSooth. Beware the Ides of March Caes. What man is that? Br. A Sooth-sayer bids you beware the Ides of March Caes. Set him before me, let me see his faceCassi. Fellow, come from the throng, look vpon Caesar Caes. What sayst thou to me now? Speak once againe, Sooth. Beware the Ides of MarchCaes. He is a Dreamer, let vs leaue him: Passe.SennetExeunt. Manet Brut. & Cass. Cassi. Will you go see the order of the course? Brut. Not ICassi. I pray you do Brut. I am not Gamesom: I do lacke some partOf that quicke Spirit that is in Antony:Let me not hinder Cassius your desires;Ile leaue you Cassi. Brutus, I do obserue you now of late:I haue not from your eyes, that gentlenesseAnd shew of Loue, as I was wont to haue:You beare too stubborne, and too strange a handOuer your Friend, that loues you Bru. Cassius,Be not deceiu'd: If I haue veyl'd my looke,I turne the trouble of my CountenanceMeerely vpon my selfe. Vexed I amOf late, with passions of some difference,Conceptions onely proper to my selfe,Which giue some soyle (perhaps) to my Behauiours:But let not therefore my good Friends be greeu'd(Among which number Cassius be you one)Nor construe any further my neglect,Then that poore Brutus with himselfe at warre,Forgets the shewes of Loue to other men Cassi. Then Brutus, I haue much mistook your passion,By meanes whereof, this Brest of mine hath buriedThoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations.Tell me good Brutus, Can you see your face? Brutus. No Cassius:For the eye sees not it selfe but by reflection,By some other things Cassius. 'Tis iust,And it is very much lamented Brutus,That you haue no such Mirrors, as will turneYour hidden worthinesse into your eye,That you might see your shadow:I haue heard,Where many of the best respect in Rome,(Except immortall Caesar) speaking of Brutus,And groaning vnderneath this Ages yoake,Haue wish'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes Bru. Into what dangers, would youLeade me Cassius?That you would haue me seeke into my selfe,For that which is not in me? Cas. Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to heare:And since you know, you cannot see your selfeSo well as by Reflection; I your Glasse,Will modestly discouer to your selfeThat of your selfe, which you yet know not of.And be not iealous on me, gentle Brutus:Were I a common Laughter, or did vseTo stale with ordinary Oathes my loueTo euery new Protester: if you know,That I do fawne on men, and hugge them hard,And after scandall them: Or if you know,That I professe my selfe in BanquettingTo all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.Flourish, and Shout. Bru. What meanes this Showting?I do feare, the People choose CaesarFor their King Cassi. I, do you feare it?Then must I thinke you would not haue it so Bru. I would not Cassius, yet I loue him well:But wherefore do you hold me heere so long?What is it, that you would impart to me?If it be ought toward the generall good,Set Honor in one eye, and Death i'th other,And I will looke on both indifferently:For let the Gods so speed mee, as I loueThe name of Honor, more then I feare death Cassi. I know that vertue to be in you Brutus,As well as I do know your outward fauour.Well, Honor is the subiect of my Story:I cannot tell, what you and other menThinke of this life: But for my single selfe,I had as liefe not be, as liue to beIn awe of such a Thing, as I my selfe.I was borne free as Caesar, so were you,We both haue fed as well, and we can bothEndure the Winters cold, as well as hee.For once, vpon a Rawe and Gustie day,The troubled Tyber, chafing with her Shores,Caesar saide to me, Dar'st thou Cassius nowLeape in with me into this angry Flood,And swim to yonder Point? Vpon the word,Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,And bad him follow: so indeed he did.The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet itWith lusty Sinewes, throwing it aside,And stemming it with hearts of Controuersie.But ere we could arriue the Point propos'd,Caesar cride, Helpe me Cassius, or I sinke.I (as Aeneas, our great Ancestor,Did from the Flames of Troy, vpon his shoulderThe old Anchyses beare) so, from the waues of TyberDid I the tyred Caesar: And this Man,Is now become a God, and Cassius isA wretched Creature, and must bend his body,If Caesar carelesly but nod on him.He had a Feauer when he was in Spaine,And when the Fit was on him, I did markeHow he did shake: Tis true, this God did shake,His Coward lippes did from their colour flye,And that same Eye, whose bend doth awe the World,Did loose his Lustre: I did heare him grone:I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the RomansMarke him, and write his Speeches in their Bookes,Alas, it cried, Giue me some drinke Titinius,As a sicke Girle: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,A man of such a feeble temper shouldSo get the start of the Maiesticke world,And beare the Palme alone.Shout. Flourish. Bru. Another generall shout?I do beleeue, that these applauses areFor some new Honors, that are heap'd on Caesar Cassi. Why man, he doth bestride the narrow worldLike a Colossus, and we petty menWalke vnder his huge legges, and peepe aboutTo finde our selues dishonourable Graues.Men at sometime, are Masters of their Fates.The fault (deere Brutus) is not in our Starres,But in our Selues, that we are vnderlings.Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Caesar?Why should that name be sounded more then yoursWrite them together: Yours, is as faire a Name:Sound them, it doth become the mouth aswell:Weigh them, it is as heauy: Coniure with 'em,Brutus will start a Spirit as soone as Caesar.Now in the names of all the Gods at once,Vpon what meate doth this our Caesar feede,That he is growne so great? Age, thou art sham'd.Rome, thou hast lost the breed of Noble Bloods.When went there by an Age, since the great Flood,But it was fam'd with more then with one man?When could they say (till now) that talk'd of Rome,That her wide Walkes incompast but one man?Now is it Rome indeed, and Roome enoughWhen there is in it but one onely man.O! you and I, haue heard our Fathers say,There was a Brutus once, that would haue brook'dTh' eternall Diuell to keepe his State in Rome,As easily as a King Bru. That you do loue me, I am nothing iealous:What you would worke me too, I haue some ayme:How I haue thought of this, and of these timesI shall recount heereafter. For this present,I would not so (with loue I might intreat you)Be any further moou'd: What you haue said,I will consider: what you haue to sayI will with patience heare, and finde a timeBoth meete to heare, and answer such high things.Till then, my Noble Friend, chew vpon this:Brutus had rather be a Villager,Then to repute himselfe a Sonne of RomeVnder these hard Conditions, as this timeIs like to lay vpon vs Cassi. I am glad that my weake wordsHaue strucke but thus much shew of fire from Brutus,Enter Caesar and his Traine. Bru. The Games are done,And Caesar is returning Cassi. As they passe by,Plucke Caska by the Sleeue,And he will (after his sowre fashion) tell youWhat hath proceeded worthy note to day Bru. I will do so: but looke you Cassius,The angry spot doth glow on Caesars brow,And all the rest, looke like a chidden Traine;Calphurnia's Cheeke is pale, and CiceroLookes with such Ferret, and such fiery eyesAs we haue seene him in the CapitollBeing crost in Conference, by some SenatorsCassi. Caska will tell vs what the matter isCaes AntonioAnt. Caesar Caes Let me haue men about me, that are fat,Sleeke-headed men, and such as sleepe a-nights:Yond Cassius has a leane and hungry looke,He thinkes too much: such men are dangerous Ant. Feare him not Caesar, he's not dangerous,He is a Noble Roman, and well giuen Caes Would he were fatter; But I feare him not:Yet if my name were lyable to feare,I do not know the man I should auoydSo soone as that spare Cassius. He reades much,He is a great Obseruer, and he lookesQuite through the Deeds of men. He loues no Playes,As thou dost Antony: he heares no Musicke;Seldome he smiles, and smiles in such a sortAs if he mock'd himselfe, and scorn'd his spiritThat could be mou'd to smile at any thing.Such men as he, be neuer at hearts ease,Whiles they behold a greater then themselues,And therefore are they very dangerous.I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,Then what I feare: for alwayes I am Caesar.Come on my right hand, for this eare is deafe,And tell me truely, what thou think'st of him.Sennit.Exeunt. Caesar and his Traine. Cask. You pul'd me by the cloake, would you speakewith me? Bru. I Caska, tell vs what hath chanc'd to dayThat Caesar lookes so sad Cask. Why you were with him, were you not? Bru. I should not then aske Caska what had chanc'dCask. Why there was a Crowne offer'd him; & being offer'd him, he put it by with the backe of his hand thus, and then the people fell a shouting Bru. What was the second noyse for? Cask. Why for that too Cassi. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? Cask. Why for that too Bru. Was the Crowne offer'd him thrice? Cask. I marry was't, and hee put it by thrice, euerietime gentler then other; and at euery putting by, minehonest Neighbors showted Cassi. Who offer'd him the Crowne? Cask. Why AntonyBru. Tell vs the manner of it, gentle CaskaCaska. I can as well bee hang'd as tell the manner of it: It was meere Foolerie, I did not marke it. I sawe Marke Antony offer him a Crowne, yet 'twas not a Crowne neyther, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I told you, hee put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking, he would faine haue had it. Then hee offered it to him againe: then hee put it by againe: but to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by, and still as hee refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw vppe their sweatie Night-cappes, and vttered such a deale of stinking breath, because Caesar refus'd the Crowne, that it had (almost) choaked Caesar: for hee swoonded, and fell downe at it: And for mine owne part, I durst not laugh, for feare of opening my Lippes, and receyuing the bad Ayre Cassi. But soft I pray you: what, did Caesar swound? Cask. He fell downe in the Market-place, and foam'dat mouth, and was speechlesseBrut. 'Tis very like he hath the Falling sicknesse Cassi. No, Caesar hath it not: but you, and I,And honest Caska, we haue the Falling sicknesseCask. I know not what you meane by that, but I am sure Caesar fell downe. If the tag-ragge people did not clap him, and hisse him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd them, as they vse to doe the Players in the Theatre, I am no true manBrut. What said he, when he came vnto himselfe? Cask. Marry, before he fell downe, when he perceiu'd the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crowne, he pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat to cut: and I had beene a man of any Occupation, if I would not haue taken him at a word, I would I might goe to Hell among the Rogues, and so hee fell. When he came to himselfe againe, hee said, If hee had done, or said any thing amisse, he desir'd their Worships to thinke it was his infirmitie. Three or foure Wenches where I stood, cryed, Alasse good Soule, and forgaue him with all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had stab'd their Mothers, they would haue done no lesseBrut. And after that, he came thus sad awayCask. I Cassi. Did Cicero say any thing? Cask. I, he spoke GreekeCassi. To what effect? Cask. Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're looke you i'th' face againe. But those that vnderstood him, smil'd at one another, and shooke their heads: but for mine owne part, it was Greeke to me. I could tell you more newes too: Murrellus and Flauius, for pulling Scarffes off Caesars Images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more Foolerie yet, if I could remember it Cassi. Will you suppe with me to Night, Caska? Cask. No, I am promis'd forth Cassi. Will you Dine with me to morrow? Cask. I, if I be aliue, and your minde hold, and yourDinner worth the eatingCassi. Good, I will expect you Cask. Doe so: farewell both.Enter. Brut. What a blunt fellow is this growne to be?He was quick Mettle, when he went to Schoole Cassi. So is he now, in executionOf any bold, or Noble Enterprize,How-euer he puts on this tardie forme:This Rudenesse is a Sawce to his good Wit,Which giues men stomacke to disgest his wordsWith better Appetite Brut. And so it is:For this time I will leaue you:To morrow, if you please to speake with me,I will come home to you: or if you will,Come home to me, and I will wait for you Cassi. I will doe so: till then, thinke of the World.Exit Brutus.Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I see,Thy Honorable Mettle may be wroughtFrom that it is dispos'd: therefore it is meet,That Noble mindes keepe euer with their likes:For who so firme, that cannot be seduc'd?Caesar doth beare me hard, but he loues Brutus.If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius,He should not humor me. I will this Night,In seuerall Hands, in at his Windowes throw,As if they came from seuerall Citizens,Writings, all tending to the great opinionThat Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurelyCaesars Ambition shall be glanced at.And after this, let Caesar seat him sure,For wee will shake him, or worse dayes endure.Enter.Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Cicero. Cic. Good euen, Caska: brought you Caesar home?Why are you breathlesse, and why stare you so? Cask. Are not you mou'd, when all the sway of EarthShakes, like a thing vnfirme? O Cicero,I haue seene Tempests, when the scolding WindsHaue riu'd the knottie Oakes, and I haue seeneTh' ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foame,To be exalted with the threatning Clouds:But neuer till to Night, neuer till now,Did I goe through a Tempest-dropping-fire.Eyther there is a Ciuill strife in Heauen,Or else the World, too sawcie with the Gods,Incenses them to send destruction Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderfull? Cask. A common slaue, you know him well by sight,Held vp his left Hand, which did flame and burneLike twentie Torches ioyn'd; and yet his Hand,Not sensible of fire, remain'd vnscorch'd.Besides, I ha' not since put vp my Sword,Against the Capitoll I met a Lyon,Who glaz'd vpon me, and went surly by,Without annoying me. And there were drawneVpon a heape, a hundred gastly Women,Transformed with their feare, who swore, they sawMen, all in fire, walke vp and downe the streetes.And yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit,Euen at Noone-day, vpon the Market place,Howting, and shreeking. When these ProdigiesDoe so conioyntly meet, let not men say,These are their Reasons, they are Naturall:For I beleeue, they are portentous thingsVnto the Clymate, that they point vpon Cic. Indeed, it is a strange disposed time:But men may construe things after their fashion,Cleane from the purpose of the things themselues.Comes Caesar to the Capitoll to morrow? Cask. He doth: for he did bid AntonioSend word to you, he would be there to morrow Cic. Good-night then, Caska:This disturbed Skie is not to walke inCask. Farewell Cicero.Exit Cicero.Enter Cassius. Cassi. Who's there? Cask. A RomaneCassi. Caska, by your Voyce Cask. Your Eare is good.Cassius, what Night is this? Cassi. A very pleasing Night to honest men Cask. Who euer knew the Heauens menace so? Cassi. Those that haue knowne the Earth so full offaults.For my part, I haue walk'd about the streets,Submitting me vnto the perillous Night;And thus vnbraced, Caska, as you see,Haue bar'd my Bosome to the Thunder-stone:And when the crosse blew Lightning seem'd to openThe Brest of Heauen, I did present my selfeEuen in the ayme, and very flash of it Cask. But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heauens?It is the part of men, to feare and tremble,When the most mightie Gods, by tokens sendSuch dreadfull Heraulds, to astonish vs Cassi. You are dull, Caska:And those sparkes of Life, that should be in a Roman,You doe want, or else you vse not.You looke pale, and gaze, and put on feare,And cast your selfe in wonder,To see the strange impatience of the Heauens:But if you would consider the true cause,Why all these Fires, why all these gliding Ghosts,Why Birds and Beasts, from qualitie and kinde,Why Old men, Fooles, and Children calculate,Why all these things change from their Ordinance,Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties,To monstrous qualitie; why you shall finde,That Heauen hath infus'd them with these Spirits,To make them Instruments of feare, and warning,Vnto some monstrous State.Now could I (Caska) name to thee a man,Most like this dreadfull Night,That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graues, and roares,As doth the Lyon in the Capitoll:A man no mightier then thy selfe, or me,In personall action; yet prodigious growne,And fearefull, as these strange eruptions are Cask. 'Tis Caesar that you meane:Is it not, Cassius? Cassi. Let it be who it is: for Romans nowHaue Thewes, and Limbes, like to their Ancestors;But woe the while, our Fathers mindes are dead,And we are gouern'd with our Mothers spirits,Our yoake, and sufferance, shew vs Womanish Cask. Indeed, they say, the Senators to morrowMeane to establish Caesar as a King:And he shall weare his Crowne by Sea, and Land,In euery place, saue here in Italy Cassi. I know where I will weare this Dagger then;Cassius from Bondage will deliuer Cassius:Therein, yee Gods, you make the weake most strong;Therein, yee Gods, you Tyrants doe defeat.Nor Stonie Tower, nor Walls of beaten Brasse,Nor ayre-lesse Dungeon, nor strong Linkes of Iron,Can be retentiue to the strength of spirit:But Life being wearie of these worldly Barres,Neuer lacks power to dismisse it selfe.If I know this, know all the World besides,That part of Tyrannie that I doe beare,I can shake off at pleasure.Thunder still. Cask. So can I:So euery Bond-man in his owne hand bearesThe power to cancell his Captiuitie Cassi. And why should Cćsar be a Tyrant then?Poore man, I know he would not be a Wolfe,But that he sees the Romans are but Sheepe:He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hindes.Those that with haste will make a mightie fire,Begin it with weake Strawes. What trash is Rome?What Rubbish, and what Offall? when it seruesFor the base matter, to illuminateSo vile a thing as Caesar. But oh Griefe,Where hast thou led me? I (perhaps) speake thisBefore a willing Bond-man: then I knowMy answere must be made. But I am arm'd,And dangers are to me indifferent Cask. You speake to Caska, and to such a man,That is no flearing Tell-tale. Hold, my Hand:Be factious for redresse of all these Griefes,And I will set this foot of mine as farre,As who goes farthest Cassi. There's a Bargaine made.Now know you, Caska, I haue mou'd alreadySome certaine of the Noblest minded RomansTo vnder-goe, with me, an Enterprize,Of Honorable dangerous consequence;And I doe know by this, they stay for meIn Pompeyes Porch: for now this fearefull Night,There is no stirre, or walking in the streetes;And the Complexion of the ElementIs Fauors, like the Worke we haue in hand,Most bloodie, fierie, and most terrible.Enter Cinna. Caska. Stand close a while, for heere comes one inhaste Cassi. 'Tis Cinna, I doe know him by his Gate,He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so? Cinna. To finde out you: Who's that, MetellusCymber? Cassi. No, it is Caska, one incorporateTo our Attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? Cinna. I am glad on't.What a fearefull Night is this?There's two or three of vs haue seene strange sightsCassi. Am I not stay'd for? tell me Cinna. Yes, you are. O Cassius,If you could but winne the Noble BrutusTo our party- Cassi. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this Paper,And looke you lay it in the Pretors Chayre,Where Brutus may but finde it: and throw thisIn at his Window; set this vp with WaxeVpon old Brutus Statue: all this done,Repaire to Pompeyes Porch, where you shall finde vs.Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? Cinna. All, but Metellus Cymber, and hee's goneTo seeke you at your house. Well, I will hie,And so bestow these Papers as you bad meCassi. That done, repayre to Pompeyes Theater.Exit Cinna.Come Caska, you and I will yet, ere day,See Brutus at his house: three parts of himIs ours alreadie, and the man entireVpon the next encounter, yeelds him ours Cask. O, he sits high in all the Peoples hearts:And that which would appeare Offence in vs,His Countenance, like richest Alchymie,Will change to Vertue, and to Worthinesse Cassi. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,You haue right well conceited: let vs goe,For it is after Mid-night, and ere day,We will awake him, and be sure of him.Exeunt.

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.Enter. 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-ioynesRemorse from Power: And to speake truth of Caesar,I haue not knowne, when his Affections sway'dMore 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 degreesBy which he did ascend: so Caesar may;Then least he may, preuent. And since the QuarrellWill 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 foundThis Paper, thus seal'd vp, and I am sureIt 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, SirBrut. Looke in the Calender, and bring me word Luc. I will, Sir.Enter. 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 RomeThe Tarquin driue, when he was call'd a King.Speake, strike, redresse. Am I entreatedTo speake, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,If the redresse will follow, thou receiuestThy 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 Caesar,I haue not slept.Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing,And the first motion, all the Interim isLike a Phantasma, or a hideous Dreame:The Genius, and the mortall InstrumentsAre then in councell; and the state of a man,Like to a little Kingdome, suffers thenThe 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:

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Julius Caesar

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