Casca.

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 hand:
Be factious for redress of all these griefs,

And I will set this foot of mine as far

As who goes farthest.

Cas.

110

There's a bargain made. 120

Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
To undergo with me an enterprise

Of honourable-dangerous consequence;
And I do know, by this, they 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

In favour's like the work we have in hand,
Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.

106. [hinds.

Bervant.]

125. [by this

130

A double sense of female deer, and menial

=

by this time.]

Casca. Stand close awhile, for here comes one in

haste.

Cas. 'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait;

He is a friend.

Cin. To find
Cimber?

Enter CINNA.

Cinna, where haste you so?

out you. Who's that? Metellus

Cas. No, it is Casca; one incorporate

To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?
Cin. I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this!
There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.
Cas. Am I not stay'd for? tell me.
Cin.

O Cassius, if you could

Yes, you are.

140

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' 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 bade me.
Cas. That done, repair to Pompey's theatre.

Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day
See Brutus at his house: three parts of him

146. [See Act I., Sc. 2, 1. 159.]

150

[Exit Cinna

148. Is Decius Brutus and, etc. Mere heedless writing; not the " grammar " of Shakespeare's time. So in line 154, below, "three parts of him is," etc.

Is 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.

163

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.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS's orchard.

Enter BRUTUS.

Bru. What, Lucius, ho!

I cannot by the progress of the stars,
Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say!
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.
When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius !

Enter LUCIUS.

Luc. Call'd you, my lord?

Bru. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: When it is lighted, come and call me here.

Luc. I will, my lord.

[Exit

Bru. It must be by his death: and for my part, 10

I know no personal cause to spurn at him,

But for the general. He would be crown'd:

159. [countenance = favor. Here again one may note the curious interchange in meaning in all these words, "face," "favor," "countenance.” We use the last as a verb with similar significance.]

5. When = ... when? pression of impatience.

Will you ever come? an ex

How that might change his nature, there's the ques

tion.

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder;
And that craves wary walking.

that ;

Crown him?

And then, I grant, we put a sting in him,
That at his will he may do danger with.
The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Cæsar,
I have not known when his affections sway'd
More than his reason. But 't is a common proof,
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
Whereto the climber upward turns his face;
But when he once attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend. So Cæsar may.

Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
Will bear no colour for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would run to these and these extremities:
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg

20

30

Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, And kill him in the shell.

Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, sir. Searching the window for a flint, I found This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, It did not lie there when I went to bed.

19. [Remorse = = pity.]

[Gives him the letter.

20. affections does not mean love, but prejudices, habits of mind, taste, feeling excited by a man's surroundings; that which he affects and which affects him.

Bru. Get you to bed again; it is not day. Is not to-morrow, boy, the first of March? Luc. I know not, sir.

Bru. Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
Luc. I will, sir.

Bru. The exhalations whizzing in the air

Give so much light that I may read by them.

[Exit

[Opens the letter and reads.

Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself.

Shall Rome, etc. Speak, strike, redress!

Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!"

Such instigations have been often dropp'd

Where I have took them up.

"Shall Rome, etc." Thus must I piece it out:

50

Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What,

Rome?

My ancestors did from the streets of Rome

The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. "Speak, strike, redress!" Am I entreated

To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise; If the redress will follow, thou receivest

Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus !

Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. Sir, March is wasted fifteen days.

[Knocking within.

40. first of March changed by Theobald (who has been fol lowed hitherto) to "Ides of March," which is what Shakespeare should have written, but, according to all the evidence, did not write.

59. fifteen days. So the folio, which Theobald, who has been followed hitherto, changed to "fourteen days," because "this was the dawn of the 15th" (the Ides); which is true: but the error, like many others in these plays, is Shakespeare's. See the note on "the first of March," line 40.