Imágenes de páginas


Where Brutus may but1 find it; and throw this
In at his window; set this up with wax

Upon old Brutus' statue:2 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.
CASS. 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 our's already; and the man entire,
Upon the next encounter, yields him our's.
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.

CASS. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him, 160
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.



SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS's Orchard.


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!


Luc. Call'd you, my Lord?

BRU. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:

When it is lighted, come and call me here.

1 alone.

2 .e. Lucius Junius Brutus, avenger of Lucretia, and expulser of the Tarquins. 18 3 =Decimus.

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:

[blocks in formation]

How that might change his nature, there's the

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,
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 degrees2
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.

[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,

[blocks in formation]



Sc. I

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, etc. Speak, strike, redress!
Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!

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

Shall Rome, etc. Thus must I piece it out:

Shall Rome stand under one man's awe?

My ancestor did from the streets of Rome

The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a King.
Speak, strike, redress! Am I entreated so



To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
If the redress will follow, thou receiv'st

Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus !

Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. Sir, March is wasted fifteen 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

And the first motion,1 all the interim is

Like a phantasma or a hideous dream:

The Genius and the mortal instruments2

Are then in council; and the State of Man,

Like to a little kingdom, suffers then

The nature of an insurrection.

Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
Who doth desire to see you.



Is he alone?

Do you know them?

Luc. No, Sir; there are moe with him.

Luc. No, Sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears,

And half their faces buried in their cloaks,

1 impulse.

2 the mind and the passions.

8 i.e. brother-in-law.

That by no means I may discover them

By any mark of favour.1


Sc. I

Let 'em enter.


They are the faction. O Conspiracy,

Sham'st thou to shew 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?


Hide it in smiles and affability:


Seek none, Con

For if thou put thy native semblance on,

Not Erebus itself were dim enough

To hide thee from prevention.

Enter the Conspirators, CASSIUS, Casca, DECIUS, CINNA,

CASS. 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?
CASS. 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
This is Trebonius.



He is welcome hither.

CASS. This, Decius Brutus.


He is welcome too.


CASS. This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus


BRU. They are all welcome.

What watchful cares do interpose themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

CASS. Shall I entreat a word?


[BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper.

DEC. Here lies the East: doth not the day break here?


CIN. O, pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon gray lines
That fret the clouds are messengers of Day.

CASCA. You shall confess that you are both deceiv'd.


Sc. I

Here, as I point my sword, the Sun arises;
Which is a great way growing on the South,
Weighing the youthful season of the


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.
CASS. 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 weak motives, break off betimes,
And every man hence to his idle bed;
So let high-sighted1 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 insuppressive3 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.
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.

[blocks in formation]





« AnteriorContinuar »