You have right well conceited. Let us go, We will awake him, and be sure of him. ACT II. SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUs's orchard. Enter BRUTUS. Bru. What, Lucius, ho! I cannot, by the progress of the stars, say! 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. Bru. It must be by his death: and, for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him, But for the general. He would be crown'd: [Exeunt. How that might change his nature, there's the question: It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; And that craves wary walking. Crown him? that; Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Cæsar, [Exit. By which he did ascend: so Cæsar may; Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, Would run to these and these extremities: Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous; Re-enter LUCIUS. Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, sir. Searching the window for a flint, I found [Giving him a paper. This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, It did not lie there when I went to bed. Bru. Get you to bed again; it is not day. Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March? Bru. Look in the calendar, and bring me word. Bru. The exhalations', whizzing in the air, [Exit. [Opens the paper and reads. "Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself. Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress!" "Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!" Such instigations have been often dropp'd "Shall Rome, &c." Thus must I piece it out; Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome? My ancestor 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, Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! Re-enter LUCIUS. Luc. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. [Knocking within. Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar, I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing Re-enter LUCIUS. [Exit Lucius. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, Who doth desire to see you. Luc. No, sir, there are more with him. Bru. Do you know them? Luc. No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, And half their faces buried in their cloaks, That by no means I may discover them By any mark of favour. They are the faction. O conspiracy, [Exit Lucius. Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are most free? O, then, by day Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; Hide it in smiles and affability: For if thou put thy native semblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention. Enter CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS. Cass. I think we are too bold upon your rest: Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?TA al Bru. I have been up this hour; awake all night. Cass. Yes, every man of them; and no man here Which every noble Roman bears of you. Bru. He is welcome too. Cass. This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. What watchful cares do interpose themselves Cass. Shall I entreat a word? [Brutus and Cassius whisper, Cin. O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines Casca. You shall confess that you are both deceiv'd. Which is a great way growing on the south, Some two months hence, up higher toward the north Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one. Bru. No, not an oath: if not the face of men, What need we any spur, but our own cause, That this shall be, or we will fall for it? Nor th' insuppressive mettle of our spirits, If he do break the smallest particle Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. Cass. 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. And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: Bru. O, name him not: let us not break with him; For he will never follow any thing That other men begin. Cass. Then leave him out. Casca. Indeed he is not fit. Dec. Shall no man else be touch'd but only Cæsar? I think it is not meet, Mark Antony, so well belov'd of Cæsar, |