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 armed,
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.

There's a bargain made.

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

Of honorable-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°

110

120

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

Enter CINNA

130

Casca. Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.

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

He is a friend.

Cinna, where haste you so?

Cin. To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber?

Cas. No, it is Casca; one incorporate

To our attempts. Am I not stayed 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 stayed for? tell me. Cin.

O Cassius, if you could

But win the noble Brutus to our party

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.

150

[Exit CINNA.

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

160

Cas. Him and his worth and our great need of him You have right well conceited.

For it is after midnight; and ere day

Let us go,

[Exeunt.

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,

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. Called 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 crowned:

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;-
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° swayed
More than his reason. But 'tis 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,

20

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 color° 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
Which hatched 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 sealed up; and, I am sure,
It did not lie there when I went to bed.

30

[Gives him the letter.
Bru. Get you to bed again; it is not day.
Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides 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.

40

[Exit.

[Opens the letter and reads. "Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself.