Enter CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, CINNA, METELLUS, 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?
[Aside
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 is Decius Brutus.
Bru. He is welcome, too.
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?
Dec. Here lies the east: Doth not the day break
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 that 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 by it?
Swear priests and cowards, 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 enterprize,
Nor th' insuppressive metal of our spirits,
To think, that, or our cause, or our performance,
Did need an oath. When ev'ry drop of blood,
That ev'ry Roman bears, and nobly bears,
Is guilty of a several bastardy,
If he doth break the smallest particle,
Of any promise that hath pass'd his lips.
Cos. 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.
Bru. O, name him not; let us not break with him; For he will never follow any thing
Cas. Then leave him out.
Casca. Indeed he is not fit.
Dec. Shall no man else be touch'd, but only
Cas. Decius, well urg'd; I think it is not meet,
Mark Antony, so well-belov'd of Cæsar,
Should outlive Cæsar: we shall find of him
A shrewd contriver ;—which, to prevent,
Let Antony and Cæsar fall together.
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 afterwards:
For Antony is but a limb of Cæsar.
Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
We all stand up against the spirit of Cæsar,
And in the spirit of man, there is no blood:-
Oh, 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 this shall make
Our purpose necessary, not envious:
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be called purgers, not murderers.
And; for Mark Antony, think not of him,
For he can do no more than Cæsar's arm,
When Cæsar's head is off.
Cas. Yet do I fear him ;
For, in th' ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar
Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he loves 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.
Tre. There is no fear in him; let him not die; For he will live and laugh at this hereafter.
Bru. Peace! count the clock.
Tre. Tis time to part.
Cas. The clock has stricken three.
Casca. But it is doubtful yet,
If Cæsar will come forth to-day, or no ;
For he is superstitious grown of late.
It may be, these apparent prodigies,
The unaccustom'd terrors of this night,
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.
He says, he does; being then most flattered.
Leave me to 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.
Bru. 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 to him: He loves me well; and I have given him reasons; Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.
Cos. The morning comes upon 's; we will leave you, Brutus ;
And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember What you have said, and show yourselves true Bo
Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; Let not our looks put on our purposes;
But bear it, as our Roman actors do,
With uutir'd spirits, and formal constancy;
And so good morrow to you every one.
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've ungently,
Brutus;
Stolen from my bed: and yesternight at supper,
You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
Sighing and musing, with your arms across;
And, when I asked you, what the matter Was,
You star'd upon me with ungentle looks.
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,
Hoping it was but the 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.
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. What, is Brutus sick?
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed,
To dare the vile contagion of the night,
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air,
To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus,
You have some sick offence within your mind,
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