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'st thou any harm's intended to- Good morrow to you. [Exit. Por. I muft go in.-Ay me! how weak a thing The heart of woman is! O Brutus ! The heavens fpeed thee in thine enterprize! And bring me word what he doth fay to thee. ACT III. [Exeunt. SCENE I. The freet, and then the Capitol; the Senate fitting. Flourish. Enter CESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, METELLUS, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, ARTEMIDORUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and the Soothsayer. Cafar. THE ides of March are come. Sooth Sooth. Ay, Cæfar; but none gone. Art. Hail, Cæfar! Read this schedule. Art. O Cæfar, read mine first: for mine's a fuit Pub. Sirrah, give place. Caf. What, urge you your petitions in the street? Come to the Capitol. [CESAR enters the Capitol, the reft following.] Pop. I wish your enterprize to-day may thrive. Caf. What enterprize, Popilius? Pop. Fare you well. Bru. What faid Popilius Lena? Caf. He wifh'd, to-day our enterprize might thrive. I fear, our purpose is discovered. Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæfar: Mark him. Caf. Cafca, be fudden, for we fear prevention.Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, Caffius, or Cæfar, never shall turn back, For I will flay myself. Bru. Caffius, be conftant: Popilius Lena fpeaks not of our purposes; For, look, he fmiles, and Cæfar doth not change. Caf. Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus, He draws Mark Antony out of the way. [Exeunt ANT. and TREB. Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? let him go, And prefently prefer his fuit to Cæfar. Bru. He is addreft: prefs near, and second him. Cin. Cafca, you are the first that rear your hand. Met. Moft high, moft mighty, and most puiffant Cæfar, Caf. I muft prevent thee, Cimber. [Kneeling. Thefe couchings, and these lowly courtefies, If thou doft bend, and pray, and fawn for him, Know, Cæfar doth not wrong; nor without cause Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, Bru. I kifs thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæfar Caf. Pardon, Cæfar'; Cæfar, pardon: Caf. I could be well mov'd, if I were as you; There There is no fellow in the firmament. Cin. O Cæfar, Caf. Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus ? Caf. Doth not Brutus bootlefs kneel? Cafea. Speak, hands, for me. [They flab CESAR. Caf. Et tu, Brute ?- -Then fall, Cæfar! [Dies. Cin. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. Caf. Some to the common pulpits, and cry out, Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement! Bru. People, and fenators! be not affrighted; Fly not; ftand still :-ambition's debt is paid. Cafca. Go to the pulpit, Brutus. Dec. And Caffius too. Bru. Where's Publius? Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. Met. Stand faft together, left some friend of Cæfar's Should chance Bru. Talk not of standing:-Publius, good cheer; There is no harm intended to your perfon, Nor to no Roman else: fo tell them, Publius. Caf. And leave us, Publius, left that the people Rushing Rufhing on us, fhould do your age fome mischief. Bru. Do fo;—and let no man abide this deed, But we the doers. Re-enter TREBONIUS. Caf. Where is Antony? Treb. Fled to his houfe amaz❜d: Men, wives, and children, ftare, cry out, and run, As it were doomsday. Bru. Fates! we will know your pleasures : That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon. Caf. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life, Cuts off fo many years of fearing death. Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit: So are we Cæfar's friends, that have abridg'd His time of fearing death.-Stoop, Romans, ftoop, And let us bathe our hands in Cæfar's blood Up to the elbows, and befmear our fwords: Then walk we forth, even to the market-place; And, waving cur red weapons o'er our heads, Let's all cry, Peace! Freedom! and Liberty! Caf. Stoop then, and wash.-How many ages hence, Shall this our lofty fcene be acted over, In ftates unborn, and accents yet unknown? Bru. How many times fhall Cæfar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey's bafis lies along, No worthier than the duft? Caf. So oft as that shall be, So often fhall the knot of us be call'd The men that gave their country liberty. Caf. Ay, every man away: Brutus fhall lead, and we will grace his heels |