Flav. Hence; home, you idle creatures, get you home;

Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk,
Upon a laboring day, without the sign

Of your profession -Speak, what trade art thou? 1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? What dost thou with thy best apparel on?You, sir; what trade are you?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.

2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe consience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.

Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?

2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather, have gone upon my handy-work. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings

he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Begone;

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fault,
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;1
Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt Citizens.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I: Disrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
Mar. May we do so?

You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter; let no images Be hung with Cæsar's trophies. I'll about, And drive away the vulgar from the streets: So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar's wing,

1 Rank.

SCENE II-A public Place. Enter, in Procession, with Music, CESAR, ANTONY, for the Course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great Crowd following, among them a Soothsayer. Cæs. Calphurnia,-_ Casca.

Cæs.

Peace, ho: Cæsar speaks.
[Music ceases.
Calphurnia,-

Cal. Here, my lord.
Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
When he doth run his course.2-Antonius,-
Ant. Cæsar, my lord.

Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse.
Ant.

I shall remember:
When Cæsar says, Do this, it is perform'd.
Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. [Music.
Sooth. Cæsar.

Cæs. Ha! who calls?

Casca. Bid every noise be still:-Peace yet again. [Music ceases. Cæs. Who is it in the press,3 that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry, Cæsar: Speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. What man is that? Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of March.

Cas. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon Cæsar.

Cæs. What say'st thou to me now? once again.

Speak

Sooth. Beware the ides of March.
Cæs. He is a dreamer; let us leave him;-pass.
[Sennet Exeunt all but BRU. and CAS.
Cas. Will you go see the order of the course?
Bru. Not Ï.

Cassius,

Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,"
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,

Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,

Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors:
But let not therefore my good friends be grieved;
(Among which number, Cassius, be you one;)
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,5

By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts, of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection, by some other things.
Cas. 'Tis just:

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors, as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,

That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cæsar,) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me,
Cassius,

That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?

2 A ceremony observed at the feast of Lupercalia.
a Crowd.
Flourish of instruments.

The nature of your feelings.

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear: And since you know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass, Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself which you yet know not of. And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus: Were I a common laugher, or did use To stale with ordinary oaths my love To every new protester; if you know That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, And after scandal them; or if you know That I profess myself in banqueting To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

[Flourish and Shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the

people

Choose Cæsar for their king.

Cas.
Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.
Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well:-
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honor in one eye, and death i' the other,
And I will look on both indifferently:
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of honor more than I fear death.

Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus
As well as I do know your outward favor
Well, honor is the subject of my story.-
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæsar; so were you:
We both have fed as well: and we can both
Endure the winter's cold, as well as he.
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tyber chafing with her shores,
Cæsar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now,
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point? Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,

And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did.
The torrent roar'd; and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews; throwing it aside
And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæsar cry'd, Help me, Cassius, or I sink.

I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder, The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Ty ber, Did I the tired Cæsar: And this man

Is now become a god; and Cassius is

A wretched creature, and must bend his body,

If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.

He had a fever when he was in Spain,

And, when the fit was on him, I did mark

How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake:

His coward lips did from their color fly;

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world,
Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan:
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
Alas! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius,
As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.

Bru. Another general shout!

[Shout. Flourish.

I do believe, that these applauses are

For some new honors that are heap'd on Cæsar.
Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world,
Like a Colossus; and we petty men

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves dishonorable graves.
Men at some time are masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Brutus and Cæsar: What should be in that Cæsar!
Why should that name be sounded more than yours!
Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with the 11,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar. [Shout.

Now in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,

That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed:

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!

Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,

I have seen tempests when the scolding winds
Have rived the knotty oaks; and I have seen
The ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds:
But never till to-night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
Either there is a civil strife in heaven;
Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,
Incenses them to send destruction.

Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? Casca. A common slave (you know him well by sight)

Held up his left hand, which did flame, and burn
Like twenty torches join'd: and yet his hand,
Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.
Besides, (I have not since put up my sword,)
Against the Capitol I met a lion,

Who glared upon me, and went surly by,
Without annoying me; and there were drawn
Upon a heap, a hundred ghastly women,
Transformed with their fear; who swore, they saw
Men, all on fire, walk up and down the streets.
And, yesterday, the bird of night did sit,
Even at noon-day, upon the market-place,
Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say,
These are their reasons,-They are natural;
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the climate that they point upon.

Cic. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time:
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Comes Cæsar to the Capitol to-morrow?

Casca. He doth; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow. Cic. Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky Is not to walk in. Casca.

Farewell, Cicero.

Enter CASSIUS.

Cas. A very pleasing night to honest men.
Casca. Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
Cas. Those that have known the earth so full
of faults.

For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perilous night,
And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,
Have bared my bosom to the thunder-storm;
And, when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
Even in the aim and very flash of it.

Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens?

It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty gods, by tokens, send
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.

Cas. You are dull, Casca; and those sparks of life

That should be in a Roman, you do want,
Or else you use not: You look pale, and gaze,
And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder,
To see the strange impatience of the heavens:
But if you would consider the true cause,
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
Why birds and beasts, from quality and kind;4
Why old men, fools, and children calculate:
Why all these things change, from their ordinance,
Their natures and pre-formed faculties,
To monstrous quality; why, you shall find,

Why they deviate from quality and nature.

That heaven hath infus'd them with these spirits,
To make them instruments of fear and warning,
Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca,
Name to thee a man most like this dreadful night;
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
As doth the lion in the Capitol:

A man no mightier than thyself, or me,
In personal action; yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.

Casca. 'Tis Cæsar that you mean: Is it not,
Cassius?

Cas. Let it be who it is: for Romans now Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; But woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits; Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.

Casca. Indeed, they say, the senators to-morrow Mean to establish Cæsar as a king: And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, In every place, save here in Italy.

Cas. I know where I will wear this dagger then: Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this, know all the world besides, That part of tyranny that I do bear, I can shake off at pleasure.

Casca.

So can I:
So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.

Cas. And why should Cæsar be a tyrant then?
Poor man! I know, he would not be a wolf,
But that he sees the Romans are but sheep:
He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
Those that with haste will make a mighty fire,
Begin it with weak straws: What trash is Rome,
What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves
For the base matter to illuminate

So vile a thing as Cæsar? But, O grief!
Where hast thou led me! I, perhaps, speak this
Before a willing bondman: then I know
My answer must be made: But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent.

Casca. You speak to Casca; and to such a man,
That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold my hand:
Be factious for redress of all these griefs;
And I will set this foot of mine as far,
As who goes farthest.

Cas.
There's a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans,
To undergo with me an enterprise
Of honorable-dangerous consequence;
And I do know, by this, they stay for me
In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night,
There is no stir, or walking in the streets;
And the complexion of the element

Is favor'd, like the work we have in hand,
Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.

Cas. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait; He is a friend.-Cinna, where haste you so? Cin. To find out you: Who's that? Metellus Cimber?

Cas. No, it is Casca; one incorporate

To our attempts. Am I not staid for, Cinna?
Cin. I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this!
There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.
Cas. Am I not staid for, Cinna? tell me.
Cin.
You are. O, Cassius, if you could but win
The noble Brutus to our party-

Yes,

Cas. Be you content: Good Cinna, take this paper,
And look you, lay it in the prætor's chair,
Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
In at his window: set this up with wax
Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done,
Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us
Is Decius Brutus, and Trebonius, there?

Cin. All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone
To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
1 Appears

Muscles.

• Deer.

Cas. That done, repair to Pompey's theatre.
[Exit CINNA.

Come, Casca, you and I will yet, ere day,
See Brutus at his house: three parts of him
Is ours already; and the man entire,
Upon the next encounter, yields him ours.
Casca. O, he sits high, in all the people's hearts:
And that which would appear offence in us,

His countenance, like richest alchymy,
Will change to virtue, and to worthiness.

Cus. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,

You have right well conceited. Let us go,
For it is after midnight; and, ere day,
We will awake him, and be sure of him.

[Exeunt.

Cæsar,

I have not known when his affection sway'd
More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
Whereto the climber upward turns his face:
But when he once attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees1
By which he did ascend: So Cæsar may:
Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
Will bear no color for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would run to these, and these extremities:
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg,

Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. [Exit LUCIUS. Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar, I have not slept.

Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma,2 or a hideous dream:
The genius, and the mortal instruments,
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection.
Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
Who doth desire to see you.
Bru.
Is he alone?
Luc. No, sir, there are more with him.
Bru.
Do you know them?
Luc. No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their

ears,

And half their faces buried in their cloaks,
That by no means I may discover them
By any mark of favor.3
Bru.

Let them enter.

[Exit LUCIUS.

They are the faction. O conspiracy!
Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,
When evils are most free? O, then, by day,
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough
To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, con-
spiracy;

Hide it in smiles, and affability:

For if thou path thy native semblance on,4
Not Erebus itself were dim enough
To hide thee from prevention.

Enter CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, CINNA, METELLUS
CIMBER, and TREBONIUS.

Cas. I think we are too bold upon your rest:

chievous;

And kill him in the shell.

Re-enter Lucius.

Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
Searching the window for a flint, I found
This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure,
It did not lie there when I went to bed.
Bru. Get you to bed again, it is not day.
Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?
Luc. I know not, sir.

Bru. Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
Luc. I will, sir.

Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air, Gives so much light, that I may read by them. [Opens the Letter, and reads. Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake, and see thyself. Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress! Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake

Such instigations have been often dropp'd Where I have took them up.

Shall Rome, &c. Thus must I piece it out;
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What!

Rome?

Bru. I have been up this hour; awake all night. Know I these men, that come along with you? Cas. Yes, every man of them; and no man here, But honors you: and every one doth wish, You had but that opinion of yourself, Which every noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius.

Bru.

He is welcome hither.

Cas. This, Decius Brutus. Bru.

He is welcome too.

Cas. This, Casca; this, Cinna; And this, Metellus Cimber.

Bru.

They are all welcome. What watchful cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your eyes and night?

Cas. Shall I entreat a word? [They whisper. Dec. Here lies the east: Doth not the day break here?

Casca. No.

Cin. O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon grey lines,
That fret the clouds, are messengers of day.
Casca. You shall confess, that you are both de-
ceiv'd.

Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises;
Which is a great way growing on the south,
Weighing the youthful season of the year.
Some two months hence,up higher toward the north
He first presents his fire; and the high east
Stands, as the Capitol, dírectly here.

Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one.
Cas. And let us swear our resolution.
Bru. No, not an oath: If not the face of men,
The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,-
• Countenance.