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Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Caffius at the door, Who doth defire to see you.

Bru. Is he alone?

Luc. No, fir, there are more with him.

Bru. Do you know them?

Luc. No, fir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, And half their faces bury'd in their cloaks,

That by no means I may difcover them

By any mark of favour.

Bru. Let them enter.

They are the faction. O confpiracy!

[Exit LUCIUS.

Sham'st thou to fhew thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are moft free? O, then, by day,

Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough,

To mask thy monstrous vifage? Seek none, confpiracy; Hide it in fmiles, and affability:

For if thou path thy native femblance on,

Not Erebus itself were dim enough

To hide thee from prevention.

Enter CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, CINNA, METEL LUS, and TREBONIUS.

Caf. I think, we are too bold upon your reft: 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? Caf. Yes, every man of them; and no man here, But honours you: and every one doth wish, You had but that opinion of yourfelf, Which every noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius.

Bru. He is welcome hither.

Caf

Caf. This, Decius Brutus.

Bru. He is welcome too.

Caf. This, Cafca; this, Cinna;

And this, Metellus Cimber.

Bru. They are all welcome.

What watchful cares do interpofe themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

Caf. Shall I entreat a word?

[They whisper.

[here?

Dec. Here lies the eaft: Doth not the day break Cafca. No.

Cin. O, pardon, fir, it doth: and yon gray lines, That fret the clouds, are meffengers of day.

Cafca. You fhall confefs, that you are both deceiv'd, Here, as I point my fword, the fun arifes; Which is a great way growing on the fouth, Weighing the youthful season of the year. Some two months hence, up higher toward the north He first prefents his fire; and the high east Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.

Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one." Caf. And let us fwear our refolution.

Bru. No, not an oath: If not the face of men, The fufferance of our fouls, the time's abufe,If these be motives weak, break off betimes, And every man hence to his idle bed; So let high-fighted tyranny range on, "Till each man drop by lottery. But if thefe, As I am fure they do, bear fire enough To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour The melting fpirits of women; then, countrymen, What need we any fpur, but our own caufe, To prick us to redrefs? what other bond, Than fecret Romans, that have spoke the word, And will not palter? and what other oath, C

Than

Than honefty to honefty engag'd,

That this fhall be, or we will fall for it?
Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous,
Old feeble carrions, and fuch fuffering fouls
That welcome wrongs; unto bad caufes fwear
Such creatures as men doubt: but do not stain
The even virtue of our enterprize,

Nor the infuppreffive mettle of our spirits,
To think, that, or our caufe, or our performance,
Did need an oath; when every drop of blood,
That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,
Is guilty of a feveral bastardy,

If he do break the fmalleft particle

Of any promife that hath paft from him.

Caf. But what of Cicero? Shall we found him? I think, he will ftand very ftrong with us. Cafea. Let us not leave him out.

Cin. No, by no means.

Met. O, let us have him; for his filver hairs
Will purchafe us a good opinion,

And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:
It fhall be faid, his judgment rul'd our hands;
Our youths, and wildnefs, fhall no whit appear,
But all be bury'd in his gravity.

Bru. O, name him not: let us not break with him;
For he will never follow any thing
That other men begin.

Caf. Then leave him out.

Cafea. Indeed, he is not fit.

Dec. Shall no man elfe be touch'd but only Cæfar? Caf. Decius, well urg'd:-I think it is not meet, Mark Antony, fo well belov'd of Cæfar,

Should out-live Cæfar? We fhall find of him
A fhrewd contriver; and, you know, his means,

If he improve them, may well ftretch fo far,
As to annoy us all which to prevent,

Let Antony, and Cæfar, fall together.

Bru. Our courfe will feem too bloody, Caius Caffius,
To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs;
Like wrath in death, and envy afterwards:
For Antony is but a limb of Cæfar.

Let us be facrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
We all ftand up against the spirit of Cæfar;
And in the spirit of men there is no blood :
O, that we then could come by Cæfar's fpirit,
And not dismember Cæfar! But, alas,
Cæfar 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 carcafe fit for hounds:
And let our hearts, as fubtle masters do,
Stir their fervants to an act of rage,

up
And after feem to chide them. This fhall make
Our purpofe neceffary, and not envious:
Which fo appearing to the common eyes,
We fhall be call'd purgers, not murderers.
And for Mark Antony, think not of him;
For he can do no more than Cæfar's arm,
When Cæfar's head is off.

Caf. Yet I fear him :

For, in the ingrafted love he bears to Cæfar,-
Bru. Alas, good Caffius, do not think of him :
If he love Cæfar, all that he can do

Is to himself; take thought, and die for Cæfar:
And that were much he should; for he is given
To fports, to wildnefs, and much company.

Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die;

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[Clock frikes.

For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

Bru. Peace, count the clock.

Caf. The clock hath ftrucken three.
Treb. 'Tis time to part.

Caf. But it is doubtful yet,

Whe'r Cæfar will come forth to-day, or no
For he is fuperftitious grown of late;
Quite from the main opinion he held once
Of fantafy, of dreams, and ceremonies :
It may be, these apparent prodigies,
The unaccuftom'd terror of this night,
And the perfuafion of his augurers,
May hold him from the Capitol to-day.
Dec. Never fear that: If he be so refolv'd,
I can o'erfway him: for he loves to hear,
That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
And bears with glaffes, elephants with holes,
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers:
But, when I tell him, he hates flatterers,
He fays, he does; being then most flattered.
Let me work:

For I can give his humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitol.

Caf. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him,
Bru. By the eighth hour: Is that the uttermoft?
Cin. Be that the uttermoft, and fail not then.
Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæfar 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.

;

Caf

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