Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.

Casca. Indeed, they say, the senators to-morrow Mean to establish Cæsar as a king:

And he shall wear his crown by sea, and land,

In every place, save here in Italy.

Cas. I know where I will wear this dagger, then; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius:

Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat.

Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.

If I know this, know all the world besides,
That part of tyranny, that I do bear,

I can shake off at pleasure.

Casca.

So can I:

So every bondman in his own hand bears

The power to cancel his captivity.

[Thunder still.

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.
There's a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans,
To undergo with me an enterprize

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.

Enter CINNA.

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? Cimber?

Cas. No, it is Casca; one incorporate

To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?

Metellus

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. Yes, you are. O, Cassius! if you could but win the noble Brutus

To our party

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.

1 In FAVOUR's like the work-] i. e. In appearance, or, more strictly, in countenance, is like the work, &c. The folios all read, "Is favour's," for "In favour's."

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.

[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 alchymy,

Will change to virtue, and to worthiness.

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.

The Same. 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,

I know no personal cause to spurn at him,

But for the general. 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 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.
Th' 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 '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,
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,

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.

[Giving him the Letter. Bru. Get you to bed again; it is not day.

Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March??

2

the IDES of March!] All the folios read, "the first of March," a decided error, corrected by Theobald.

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, &c. Speak, strike, redress!
Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!"-

Such instigations have been often dropp'd
Where I have took them up.

"Shall Rome, &c." Thus must I piece it out;
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe?

Rome?

My ancestors did from the streets of Rome

The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king.

66

Speak, strike, redress !"-Am I entreated

What!

To speak, and strike? O Rome! I make thee pro

mise,

If the redress will follow, thou receiv'st

Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus !

Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days3.

[Knocking within.

Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks.

[Exit LUCIUS.

Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar,
I have not slept.

Between the acting of a dreadful thing,
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:
The Genius, and the mortal instruments,

3 Sir, March is wasted FOURTEEN days.] "Fifteen days" in all editions before that of Theobald, who truly states that March was only wasted fourteen days, inasmuch as Lucius was speaking at the dawn of the fifteenth day.