SCENE III. The fame. Aftreet near the Capitol.
Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper.

ART. Cæfar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Caffius; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; truft not Trebonius; mark well Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou haft wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Cæfar. If thou beft not immortal, look about you: Security gives way to confpiracy. The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover,

Here will I ftand, till Cæfar pafs along,
And as a fuitor will I give him this.

My heart laments, that virtue cannot live
Out of the teeth of emulation.

Artemidorus.

If thou read this, O Cæfar, thou may'ft live;
If not, the fates with traitors do contrive.

L

SCENE IV. The fame. Another part of the fame ftreet, before the houfe of Brutus.

Enter PORTIA and LUCIUS.

POR. I pr'ythee, boy, run to the senate-house ;

Stay not to answer me, but get thee

Why doft thou stay?

Luc. To know my errand, madam.

gone:

POR. I would have had thee there, and here again Ere I can tell thee what thou fhould'ft do there.

O conftancy, be fstrong upon my

fide!

Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue!
I have a man's mind, but a woman's might.

How hard it is for women to keep counfel!

Art thou here yet?

Luc. Madam, what fhould I do?

Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?

And fo return to you and nothing else?

POR. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, For he went fickly forth: And take good note, What Cæfar doth, what fuitors prefs to him. Hark, boy! what noise is that?

Luc. I hear none, madam.

POR. Pr'ythee, liften well:

I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
Luc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

Enter SOOTHSAYER.

POR. Come hither, fellow :

Which way haft thou been?

SOOTH. At mine own houfe, good lady.
POR. What is't o'clock?

SOOTH. About the ninth hour, lady.

POR. Is Cæfar yet gone to the Capitol ?

SOOTH. Madam, not yet; I go to take my ftand, To fee him pafs on to the Capitol.

POR. Thou haft fome fuit to Cæfar, haft thou not? SOOTH. That I have, lady: if it will please Cæfar To be fo good to Cæfar, as to hear me,

I fhall befeech him to befriend himself.

POR. Why, know'ft thou any harm's intended towards

him?

[may chance. SOOTH. None that I know will be, much that I fear Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow; The throng that follows Cæfar at the heels, Of fenators, of prætors, common fuitors, Will crowd a feeble man almoft to death: I'll get me to a place more void, and there Speak to great Caiar as he comes along.

[Exit

POR. I must go in.-Ah me! how weak a thing
The heart of woman is! O Brutus!

The heavens speed thee in thine enterprize!
Sure, the boy heard me :-Brutus hath a fuit,
That Cæfar will not grant.-O, I grow faint :-
Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;
Say, I am merry: come to me again,

And bring me word what he doth fay to thee. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. The fame. The Capitol; the Senate fitting. A crowd of people in the street leading to the Capitol; among them ARTEMIDORUS, and the SoOTHSAYER. Flourish. Enter CESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, METELLUS, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and Others.

At

CES. The ides of March are come.
SOOTH. Ay, Cæfar; but not gone.

ART. Hail, Cæfar! Read this schedule.
DEC. Trebonius doth defire you to o'er-read,
your best leifure, this his humble fuit.

ART. O, Cæfar, read mine firft; for mine's a fuit
That touches Cæfar nearer: Read it, great Cæfar.
CES. What touches us ourself, fhall be laft ferv'd.
ART. Delay not, Cæfar; read it inftantly.

CES. What, is the fellow mad?

PUB. Sirrah, give place.

CAS. What, urge you your petitions in the street? Come to the Capitol.

CESAR enters the Capitol, the reft following. All the Sena

tors rife.

Pop. I wish, your enterprize to-day may thrive.

. Q iiij

CAS. What enterprize, Popilius?

Pop. Fare

you well.

BRU. What faid Popilius Lena?

[advances to CESAR.

CAS. He wish'd, to-day our enterprize might thrive. I fear, our purpofe is difcovered.

BRU. Look, how he makes to Cæfar: Mark him.

CAS. Cafca, be fudden, for we fear prevention.-
Brutus, what fhall be done? If this be known,
Caffius or Cæfar never fhall turn back,
For I will flay myself.

BRU. Caffius, be constant:

Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;

For, look, he smiles, and Cæfar doth not change.
CAS. Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus,
He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

[Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS. CESAR and the
Senators take their feats.

DEC. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,
And presently prefer his fuit to Cæfar.

BRU. He is addrefs'd: prefs near, and fecond him.
CIN. Cafca, you are the first that rears your hand.
CES. Are we all ready? what is now amiss,

That Cæfar, and his fenate, must redress?

MET. Moft high, most mighty, and moft puiffant Cæfar,
Metellus Cimber throws before thy feat
An humble heart :-

CES. I must prevent thee, Cimber.
These couchings, and thefe lowly courtefies,
Might fire the blood of ordinary men;
And turn pre-ordinance, and firft decree,
Into the law of children. Be not fond,
To think that Cæfar bears fuch rebel blood,
That will be thaw'd from the true quality

[Kneeling,

With that which melteth fools; I mean, fweet words,
Low-crooked curt'fies, and base spaniel fawning.
Thy brother by decree is banished ;

If thou doft bend, and pray, and fawn, for him,
I fpurn thee like a cur out of my way.

Know, Cæfar doth not wrong; nor without cause
Will he be fatisfied.

MET. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, To found more fweetly in great Cæfar's ear,

For the repealing of my banish'd brother?
BRU. I kifs thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæfar;
Defiring thee, that Publius Cimber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

CES. What, Brutus!

CAS. Pardon, Cæfar; Cæfar, pardon :
As low as to thy foot doth Caffius fall,
To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.

CAS. 1 could be well mov'd, if I were as you;
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me:
But I am conftant as the northern star,
Of whose true-fix'd, and resting quality,
There is no fellow in the firmament.

The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks,
They are all fire, and every one doth shine;
But there's but one in all doth hold his place :
So, in the world; 'Tis furnish'd well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehenfive;
Yet, in the number, I do know but one
That unaffailable holds on his rank,
Unfhak'd of motion: and, that I am he,
Let me a little fhow it, even in this;
That I was conftant Cimber fhould be banish'd,
And constant do remain to keep him so.