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 I fear him;
For in the ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar-
Bru. Alas! good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he love 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.
Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die;
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. 191
Clock strikes.
The clock hath stricken three.
Treb. 'Tis time to part.
Cas.
But it is doubtful yet
Whether Cæsar will come forth to-day or no ;
For he is superstitious grown of late,
Quite from the main opinion he held once
Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies.
It may be, these apparent prodigies,
The unaccustom'd terror of this night,
And the persuasion of his augurers,
May hold him from the Capitol to-day.

Bru. Peace! count the clock.
Cas.

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;
But when I tell him he hates flatterers,
He says he does, being then most flattered..
Let me work;

210

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 by him: He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

220

Cas. The morning comes upon's: we'll leave you, Brutus,

And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember

What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.

Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; Let not our looks put on our purposes, But bear it as our Roman actors do, With untir'd spirits and formal constancy : And so good morrow to you every one. Exeunt all but BRUTUS. Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: Thon hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men ; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

Por.

Enter PORTIA.

230

Brutus, my lord! 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,

Stole from my bed; and yesternight at supper
You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
Musing and sighing, with your arms across, 240
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You star'd upon me with ungentle looks.

I urg'd you further; then you scratch'd your head,

And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot;
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,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience
Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal
Hoping it was but an 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.

250

261

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. Is Brutus sick, and is it physical To walk unbraced and suck up the humours Of the dank morning? 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, Which, by the right and virtue of my place, I ought to know of; and, upon my knees, I charm you, by my once-commended beauty, By all your vows of love, and that great vow Which did incorporate and make us one, That you unfold to me, your self, your half, Why you are heavy, and what men to-night Have had resort to you; for here have been Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness. Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.

270

Caes. The cause is in my will: I will not come;
That is enough to satisfy the senate :
But for your private satisfaction,
Because I love you, I will let you know:
Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home:
She dream'd to-night she saw my statua,
Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts,
Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it.
And these does she apply for warnings and
portents,

And evils imminent; and on her knee
Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day.
Dec. This dream is all amiss interpreted;
It was a vision fair and fortunate:

Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,
In which so many smiling Romans bath'd,
Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck
Reviving blood, and that great men shall press
For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance.
This by Calpurnia's dream is signified.

80

90

Cæs. And this way have you well expounded it. Dec. I have, when you have heard what I can say:

And know it now: the senate have concluded
To give this day a crown to mighty Cæsar.
If you shall send them word you will not come,
Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock
Apt to be render'd, for some one to say
Break up the senate till another time,
When Cæsar's wife shall meet with better
dreams.'

If Cæsar hide himself, shall they not whisper
Lo! Cæsar is afraid'!

Pardon me, Cæsar; for my dear dear love
To your proceeding bids me tell you this,
And reason to my love is liable.

101

Caes. How foolish do your fears seem now,
Calpurnia!

I am ashamed I did yield to them.
Give me my robe, for I will go :

Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METEL-
LUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, and CINNA.
And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
Pub. Good morrow, Cæsar.
Cæs.
Welcome, Publius.
What! Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? 110
Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,
Cæsar was ne'er so much your enemy
As that same ague which hath made you lean.
What is 't o'clock ?

Bru.
Cæsar, 'tis strucken eight.
Cæs. I thank you for your pains and courtesy.

SCENE III.-The Same. A Street near the Capitol. Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper. Casar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius ; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark well Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Cæsar. If thou be'st not immortal, look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover,

ARTEMIDORUS.

To know my errand, madam. Por. I would have had thee there, and here again,

Ere I can tell thee what thou should'st do there.
O constancy! be strong upon my side;
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?

11

Luc.
Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
And so return to you, and nothing else?
Por. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look
well,

For he went sickly forth; and take good note
What Cæsar doth, what suitors press to him.
Hark, boy! what noise is that?
Luc. I hear none, madam.
Por.

Prithee, listen well;
I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
Luc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.
Enter the Soothsayer.

20

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

Sooth. At mine own house, good lady.

Por. What is 't o'clock ?

About the ninth hour, lady.

Sooth.
Por. Is Cæsar yet gone to the Capitol ?

Bru. What said Popilius Lena?

Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;
For, look, he smiles, and Cæsar doth not change.
Cas. Trebonius knows his time; for, look
you, Brutus,

He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

Excunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS. CÆSAR and the Senators take their seats. Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar. Bru. He is address'd; press near and second him.

Cin. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.

30

Cæs. Are we all ready? What is now amiss
That Cæsar and his senate must redress?
Met. Most high, most mighty, and most
puissant Cæsar,

Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat
An humble heart,-

Kneeling.
Cæs.
I must prevent thee, Cimber.
These couchings and these lowly courtesies,
Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
And turn pre-ordinance and first decree
Into the law of children. Be not fond,
To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood
That will be thaw'd from the true quality
With that which melteth fools; I mean sweet
words,

Low-crooked court'sies, and base spaniel fawning.

Thy brother by decree is banished:
If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him,
I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.
Know, Cæsar doth not wrong, nor without cause
Will he be satisfied.

Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my

own,

To sound more sweetly in great Cæsar's ear
For the repealing of my banish'd brother?
Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæsar:
Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
Caes. What, Brutus!

Cas.

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

Caes. I could be well mov'd if I were as you; If I could pray to move prayers would move me; But I am constant 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 apprehensive;
Yet in the number I do know but one
That unassailable holds on his rank,
Unshak'd of motion: and that I am he,
Let me a little show it, even in this,

thrive.

I fear our purpose is discovered.

Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæsar: mark him.

Cas. Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.

Cas. Where's Antony? Tre. Fled to his house amaz'd. Men, wives and children stare, 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. 100 Cas. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit: So are we Cæsar's friends, that have abridg'd His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, And let us bathe our hands in Cæsar's blood Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: Then walk we forth, even to the market-place; And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom, and liberty!' 110 Cas. Stoop then, and wash. How many ages

hence

Shall this our lofty scene be acted over,
In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
Bru. How many times shall Cæsar bleed in
sport,

That now on Pompey's basis lies along
No worthier than the dust!

Cas.

130

If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
May safely come to him, and be resolv'd
How Cæsar hath deserv'd to lie in death,
Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar dead
So well as Brutus living; but will follow
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state,
With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;
I never thought him worse.

Tell him, so please him come unto this place, 140
He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour,
Depart untouch'd.

Serv.

I'll fetch him presently.

Exit.

Bru. I know that we shall have him well to friend.

Cas. I wish we may : but yet have I a mind That fears him much; and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

Re-enter ANTONY.

Bru. But here comes Antony.. Welcome, Mark Antony.

Ant. O mighty Cæsar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank : If I myself, there is no hour so fit

151

As Cæsar's death's hour, nor no instrument
Of half that worth as those your swords, made
rich

With the most noble blood of all this world.
I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,
Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and
smoke,

Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
I shall not find myself so apt to die:
No place will please me so, no mean of death,
As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off,
The choice and master spirits of this age.

160

Bru. O Antony! beg not your death of us. Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As, by our hands and this our present act, You see we do, yet see you but our hands And this the bleeding business they have done : Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; And pity to the general wrong of Rome, As fire drives out fire, so pity pity, Hath done this deed on Cæsar. For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony:

170

So often shall the knot of us be call'd
The men that gave their country liberty.
Dec. What shall we forth?
Cas.
Ay, every man away:
Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.