To your proceeding bids me tell you this:
And reason to my love is liable.

Caf. How foolish do your Fears feem now, Cal-
phurnia?

I am afham'd, I did yield to them.

Give me my Robe, for I will go :

SCENE VI.

Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Cafca, Trebonius,
Cinna and Publius.

And, look, where Publius is come to fetch me.
Pub. Good-morrow, Cafar.

Caf. Welcome, Publius.

What, Brutus, are you ftirr'd fo early too?
Good-morrow, Cafca: Caius Ligarius,

Cæfar was ne'er fo much your enemy,

As that fame Ague which hath made you lean..

What is't o'clock ?

Bru. Cafar, 'tis ftrucken eight.

Caf. I thank you for your pains and courtesy.

Enter Antony.

See! Antony, that revels long o' nights,

Is notwithstanding up.

Good-morrow, Antony.

Ant. So to moft noble Cæfar.

Caf. Bid them prepare within:

I am to blame to be thus waited for..
Now, Cinna; now, Metellus; what, Trebonius!
I have an hour's talk in ftore for you,
Remember, that you call on me to-day ;.
Be near me, that I may remember you.
Treb. Cafar, I will;

and fo near will I be,

[Afide. That your beft Friends fhall wish I had been further. Caf. Good Friends, go in, and tafte fome wine

with me.

And we, like Friends, will ftraightway go together.

Bru.

Bru. That every like is not the fame, O Cæfar,

[Afide.

The heart of Brutus yerns to think upon? [Exeunt.

C

Changes to a Street near the Capitol.

Enter Artemidorus, reading a Paper.

ESAR, beware of Brutus; take heed of Caffius; come not near Cafca; have an eye to Cinna; trust 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 be'ft not immortal, look about thee: fecurity gives way to confpiracy. The mighty Gods defend thee!

Thy Lover, Artemidorus.

Here will I ftand, 'till Cæfar pass along,
And as a fuitor will I give him this:
My heart laments, that virtue cannot live
Out of the teeth of emulation.

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

Enter Porcia and Lucius.

Por. I pr'ythee, Boy, run to the Senate-house;
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone:
Why doft thou stay?

Luc. To know my errand, Madam.

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

O Conftancy, be ftrong 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 counsel!
Art thou here yet?

G 5

Luc.

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 noife is that?
Luc. I hear none, Madam.
Por. Pr'ythee, liften well:

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

Enter Artemidorus.

Por. Come hither, fellow, which way haft thou been?

Art. At mine own house, good lady.

Por. What is't o' clock?

Art. About the ninth hour, Lady.

Por. Is Cæfar yet gone to the Capitol?
Art. Madam, not yet; I go to take

To fee him pafs on to the Capitol.

my ftand,

Por. Thou haft some suit to Cæfar, haft thou not? Art. 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 intended tow'rds

him?

Art. None that I know will be, much that I fear;
Good-morrow to you.
Here the treet is narrow:

The throng, that follows Cæfar at the heels,
Of Senators, of Prætors, common Suitors,
Will crowd a feeble Man almoft to death:
I'll get me to a place more void, and there
Speak to great Cæfar as he comes along.

[Exit.

Por. I muft go in-ayc me! how weak a thing The heart of woman is ! O Brutus! Brutus !

The

The heavens fpeed thee in thine enterprize!
Sure, the Boy heard me:- -Brutus hath a Suit,
That Cafar 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 feverally.

ACT

III.

SCENE I.

The Street before the Capitol; and the Capitol open. Flourish. Enter Cæfar, Brutus, Caffius, Cafca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, Lepidus, Artemidorus, Popilius, Publius, and the Soothsayer.

CAESAR.

HE 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, At your beft leafure, this his humble fuit.

Art. O Cæfar, read mine firft; for mine's a fuit, That touches Cafar nearer. Read it. great Cæfar. Caf. What touches us ourself, shall be last ferv'd. Art. Delay not, Cæfar, read it inflantly.

Caf. What, is the fellow mad?

Pub. Sirrah, give place.

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

Pep. I with, 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 purpofe is difcovered.

Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæfar; mark himr.. Caf. Cafca, be fudden, for we fear prevention. Brutus, what fhall be done, if this be known? Caffins, or Cæfar, never fhall turn back; For I will flay myself

Bru. Caffius, be constant:

Popilius Lena fpeaks not of our purpose ;

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.

Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? let him go,

And presently prefer his fuit to Cæfar.

Bru. He is addreft; press near, and second him. Cin. Cafca, you are the first that rears your hand. Caf. Are we all ready? what is now amifs, That Cæfar and his Senate muft redress?

Met. Moft high, moft mighty, and most puiffant Cæfar,

Metellus Cimber throws before thy feat

An humble heart.

Caf. I must prevent thee, Cimber;
Thefe couchings and thefe lowly curtefies
Might fir the blood of ordinary men,
And turn pre-ordinance and firft decree
Into the lane 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 bafe fpaniel fawning,
Thy brother by decree is banished;

If thou dost 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, Cafar;

Defirias