Why Cas. Who offer'd him the crown?!

Casca. Why, Antony. Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. Casca. I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: it was mere foolery. I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown; -yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets; and, as I told you, he put it by once; but, for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again; then he put it by again: but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by: and still as he refused it, the rabblement hooted, and clapped their chopped hands, and threw up their night-caps, and uttered such a deal of foul breath because Cæsar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; for he swooned, and fell down at it: And for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, and receiving the bad air. Cas. But soft, I pray you: What? did Cæsar

swoon?

Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless.

B. "Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness. Cas. No, Cæsar hath it not; but you, and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness. Casca. I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, Cæsar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleased, and displeased them, as they us'd to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man.

Bru. What said he, when he came unto himself? Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet, and offered them his throat to cut. And I had been a man of any occupation, I would have taken him at a word:-and so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, If he had done, or said anything amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried, Alas, good soul! -and forgave him with all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them: if Cæsar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.

Bru. And after that, he came, thus sad, away?
Casca. Ay.

Cas. Did Cicero say anything?cendent
Casca. Ay, he spoke Greek,la 41 829
Cas. To what effect?untut de

Casca. Nay, and I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' the face again: But those that understood him, smiled at one another, and shook their heads; but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too; Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Cæsar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it. Cas. Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? Casca. No, I am promised forth.

Cas. Will you dine with me to-morrow? Casca. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the eating.

1 A tradesman.

Cas. Good; I will expect you. Casca. Do so: Farewell, both. [Exit Casca. Bru. What a blunt fellow this is grown to be; He was quick mettle, when he went to school. Cas. So is he now, in execution Of any bold or noble enterprise, However he puts on this tardy form, This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.

B. And so it is. For this time I will leave you: To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, I will come home to you; or, if you will, Come home to me, and I will wait for you. Cas. I will do so:-till then, think of the world. [Exit Brutus. Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, Thy honourable metal may be wrought From that it is dispos'd1: Therefore 'tis meet That noble minds keep ever with their likes: For who so firm, that cannot be seduc'd? Cæsar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus: If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, He should not humour 2 me. I will this night, In several hands, in at his windows throw, As if they came from several citizens, Writings all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely Cæsar's ambition shall be glanced at: And, after this, let Cæsar seat him sure; For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit.

SCENE III.-A STREET.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero.

Cic. Good even, Casca: Brought you Cæsar home?

Why are you breathless? and why stare you so? Casca. Are not you mov'd, when all the sway

of earth

Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds
Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen.
The ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds:
But never till to-night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
Either there is a civil strife in heaven;
Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,
Incenses them to send destruction.

Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderful?
Casca. A common slave (you know him well

by sight) Held up his left hand, which did flame, and burn Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand, Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. Besides (I have not since put up my sword), Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glar'd upon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me: And there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, Transformed with their fear; who swore,they saw Men, all on fire, walk up and down the streets. And, yesterday, the bird of night did sit, 2 Cajole.

1 (Disposed to)

Even at noon-day, upon the market-place,
Hooting, and shrieking. When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say,
These are their reasons,-They are natural;
For, I believe they are portentous things
Unto the climate that they point upon.

Cic. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Comes Cæsar to the Capitol to-morrow?

Casca. He doth; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow. Cic. Good night then, Casca: this disturbed Is not to walk in. [sky Casca.

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.

chievous;

And kill him in the shell.

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, Ilis 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 Second.

SCENE I.-BRUTUS' 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, Isay: 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.
The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
Remorse1 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 2
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 degrees3
By which he did ascend: So Cæsar may;
Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quar-
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,
1-Pity.
2 Experience.
3 Low steps.

[rel

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.

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. [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? 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 then
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 has wasted fourteen days. [Knock 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,
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection.

Hide it in smiles, and affability:
For if thou path,1 thy native semblance on,
Not Erebus itself were dim enough
To hide thee from prevention,

Enter Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus
Cimber, and Trebonius.

Cas. I think we are too bold upon your rest: Good morrow, Brutus; Do we trouble you? Bru. I have been up this hour; awake all night. Know I these men, that come along with you? Cas. Yes, every man of them; and no man here, But honours you: and every one doth wish, You had but that opinion of yourself, Which every noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius.

Bru.

He is welcome hither.

Cas. This, Decius Brutus. Bru.

Cas. 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. No, by no means Met. O, let us have him; for his silver hairs Will purchase us a good opinion, And buy men's voices to commend our deeds; It shall be said, his judgment rul'd our hands: Our youths, and wildness, shall no whit appear, But all be buried in his gravity.

Bru. O, name him not; let us not break! with him;

For he will never follow anything
That other men begin.

Cas.

Cas. This, Casca; this, Cinna; And this Metellus Cimber.

Bru. They are all welcome. What watchful cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your eyes and night?

Cas. Shall I entreat a word? [They whisper. Dec. Here lies the east: Doth not the day break Casca. No. [here? Cin. O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon grey lines, That fret the clouds, are messengers of day. Casca. You shall confess, that you are both deceiv'd.

Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises;
Which is a great way growing on the south,
Weighing the youthful season of the year.
Some two months hence, up higher toward the
north

He first presents his fire; and the high east
Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.
Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one.
Cas. And let us swear our resolution.
Bru. No, not an oath: If not the face of men,
The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,
If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
And every man hence to his idle bed;
So let high-sighted tyranny range on,
Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
As I am sure they do, bear fire enough
To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour
The melting spirits of women; then, countrymen,
What need we any spur, but our own cause,
To prick us to redress? what other bond,
Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word,
And will not palter? and what other oath,
Than honesty to honesty engag'd,
That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous,2
Old feeble carrions, and such suffering souls
That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear
Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain
The even virtue of our enterprise,

Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits,
To think, that, or our cause, or our performance,
Did need an oath; when every drop of blood,
That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,
Is guilty of a several bastardy,

If he do break the smallest particle
Of any promise that hath pass'd from him.

Bru. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius
Cassius,

To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs;
Like wrath in death, and envy 2 afterwards:
For Antony is but a limb of Cæsar.
Let us be sacrificers, but no butchers, Caius.
We all stand up against the spirit of Cæsar;
And in the spirit of men there is no blood: 1
O, that we then could come by Cæsar's spirit,
And not dismember Cæsar! But, alas,
Cæsar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcase fit for hounds:
And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
Stir up their servants to an act of rage, d
And after seem to chide them. This shall make
Our purpose necessary, and not envious:
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers.talit
And for Mark Antony, think not of him; wolk
For he can do no more than Cæsar's arm,
When Cæsar's head is off.

Cas.

Yet I do fear him: For in the ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar:Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: If he love Cæsar, all that he can do Is to himself; take thought, and die for Cæsar: And that were much he should; for he is given To sports, to wildness, and much company.

Treb. There is no fear in him, let him not die; For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. [Clock strikes.

Bru. Peace, count the clock. Cas. The clock hath stricken three. Treb. 'Tis time to part. Cas. But it is doubtful yet, Whe'r Cæsar will come forth to-day, or no; For he is superstitious grown of late; Quite from the main opinion he held once Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies; It may be, these apparent prodigies, The unaccustom'd terror of this night, 1 (The matter to him.)

2 Malice.

And the persuasion of his augurers,
May hold him from the Capitol to-day.
Dec. Never fear that: If he be so resolv'd,
I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear,
That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers.
But, when I tell him, he hates flatterers,
He says, he does; being then most flattered.
Let me work:

For I can give his humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitol.

Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. B. By the eighth hour: Is that the uttermost? Cin. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæsar hard, Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey; I wonder, none of you have thought of him.

Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along by him1: He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

Cas. The morning comes upon us: We'll leave you, Brutus:--

And, friends, disperse yourselves: but all remember

What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.

Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; Let not our looks put on our purposes; But bear it as our Roman actors do, With untir'd spirits, and formal constancy: And so, good morrow to you every one.

[Exeunt all but Brutus. Boy! Lucius!-Fast asleep? It is no matter; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: Thou hast no figures,2 nor no fantasies, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

Por.

Enter Portia.

Brutus, my lord? Bru. Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now?

It is not for your health thus to commit
Your weak condition to the raw-cold morning.
Por. Nor for yours neither. You have ur-
gently, Brutus,

Stole from my bed: And yesternight, at supper,
You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
Musing, and sighing, with your arms across:
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You star'd upon me with ungentle looks:
I urg'd you further; then you scratch'd your head,
And too impatiently stamped with your foot:
Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not;
But with an angry wafture of your hand,
Gave sign for me to leave you: So I did;
Fearing to strengthen that impatience,
Which seem'd too much enkindled; and, withal,
Hoping it was but an effect of humour,
Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep;
And, could it work so much upon your shape
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all.
1 By his house. 2 Imaginations. 8 Temper.

Por. Brutus is wise, and were he not in health, He would embrace the means to come by it. Bru. Why, so I do:-good Portia, go to bed. Por. Is Brutus sick? and is it physical To walk unbraced, and suck up the humours Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick; And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, To dare the vile contagion of the night? And tempt the rheumy2 and unpurged air To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; You have some sick offence within your mind, Which, by the right and virtue of my place, I ought to know of: And, upon my knees, I charm you, by my once commended beauty, By all your vows of love, and that great vow Which did incorporate and make us one, That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, Why you are heavy; and what men to-night Have had resort to you: for here have been Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness.

Bru.

Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.

Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
Is it excepted, I should know no secrets
That appertain to you? Am I yourself,
But, as it were, in sort, or limitation;
To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,
And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in
the suburbs

Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.

Bru. You are my true and honourable wife,
As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart.

Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret.

I grant, I am a woman, but, withal,
A woman that lord Brutus took to wife:
I grant, I am a woman; but, withal,
A woman well reputed; Cato's daughter.
Think you, I am no stronger than my sex,
Being so father'd, and so husbanded?
Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose them:
I have made strong proof of my constancy,
Giving myself a voluntary wound
Here, in the thigh: Can I bear that with patience,
And not my husband's secrets?
Bru.
O ye gods,
Render me worthy of this noble wife!

[Knocking within.
Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in a while;
And by and by thy bosom shall partake
The secrets of my heart.

All my engagements I will construe to thee,
All the charactery of my sad brows:-
Leave me with haste.

[Exit Portia.