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That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone!

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 fault, Assemble all the poor men of your sort; Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt Citizens.

See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd!
They vanish 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.
Mar. May we do so?

You know it is the feast of Lupercal.






Flav. It is no matter; let no images Be hung with 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 75 Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,

Who else would soar above the view of men,

And keep us all in servile fearfulness.


SCENE II. The same. A public place.

Enter in procession, with music, CESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer.

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Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,

When he doth run his course.

Ant. Cæsar, my lord?

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


I shall remember:

10 When Cæsar says "Do this," it is perform'd. Cas. Set on; and leave no ceremony out.




Cæs. Ha! who calls?


Casca. Bid every noise be still:-peace yet again! [Music ceases.

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?

Brut. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of March.

Cæs. Set him before me; let me see his face. 20 Cass. 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. Exeunt all except Brutus and Cassius. Cass. Will you go see the order of the course? 25 Brut. Not I.

Cass. I pray you, do.

Brut. 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.

Cass. Brutus, I do observe you now 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 you.



Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd 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,

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Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviours;
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Cassius, be you one,
Nor construe any further my neglect,





Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cass. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your

By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried 50 Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Brut. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself
But by reflection from some other thing.
Cass. 'Tis just:

55 And it is very much lamented, Brutus,

That you have no such mirror as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,

That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,

60 Except immortal Cæsar,

speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Brut. Into what dangers would you lead me,

That you would have me seek into myself 65 For that which is not in me?

Cass. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear:
And, since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself

70 That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laugher, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know

75 That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,

And after scandal them; or if you know.
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

[Flourish and shout.

Brut. What means this shouting? I do fear,

Choose Cæsar for their king.

the people

Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.
Brut. 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' th' other,
And I will look on both indifferently;

For, let the gods so speed me as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.



Cass. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 90 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 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 with her shores,
Cæsar said to me, "Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to vonder point?" Upon the word.



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