Casca. A Roman.

Cas. Casca by your voice.

Casca. Your ear is good, Cassius, what night is

this!

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 when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself,
Ev'n in the aim and very ftash 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;

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, Cas

sius ?

Cas. Let it be who it is; for Romans now
Have thewes 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 suffrance 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 were 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, oh 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 ficering 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 enterprize,
Of honourable dang'rous consequence;
And I do know, by this they stay for me
In Pompey's porch.

Enter CINNA.

Casca. Stand close a while, for here comes one in

haste.

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. Yes, you are.

O Cassius! could you win the noble Brutus
To our party

In

Cas. Be you content. -Good Cinna, take this pa

per:

And look you lay it in the prætor's chair,
Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
at his window; set this up with wax
Upon old Brutus' statue. Ail 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 bid me.

[Exit CINNA.

Cas. Come, Casca, you and I will, yet, ere day,
See Brutus at his house; three parts of him
Are ours already, and the man entire,

Upon the next encounter, yields him ours. [Exeunt.

SCENE 11.

BRUTUS' Garden.

Enter BRUTUS.

Bru. What, Lucius, ho!

I cannot, by the progress of the stars,

Give guess how near to day-Lucius, I say !
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.

When, Lucius, when? awake, I say-what, Lucius!

Enter LUCIUS.

Luc. Call'd you, my lord ?

Bru. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius :

When it is lighted, come and call me here.

Luc. I will, my lord.

[Exit.

Bru. It must be by his death; and, for my part,

I know no personal cause to spurn at him;

But for the general. He would be crown'd

How that might change his nature? there's the ques

tion

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder;
And that craves wary walking-Crown him-that-
And then I grant we put a sting in him,
That at his will he may do danger with.
Th' abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Cæsar,
I have not known when his affections sway'd,
More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof,
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
Whereto the climber upwards 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 degrees,
By which he had ascended. So Cæsar may:
Then, lest he may, prevent. And since the quarrel
Will bear no colour, 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,
Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous;
And kill him in the shell.

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.

[Gives him a Letter.

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,

[Exit.

[Lightning.

Give so much light, that I may read by them.

[Opens the Letter, and reads.

Brutus, thou sleep'st, awake, and see thyself:

Shall Rome-speak, strike, redress.

Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake.

Such instigations have been often dropp'd,

Where I have took them up.

Shall Rome thus must I piece it out:
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? what! Rome!

My ancestors did from the streets of Rome,
The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king.
Speak, strike, redress-Am I entreated then
To speak and strike? O Rome! I make the promise,