| Enter BRUTUS
 Brutus. What, Lucius, ho!
 600I 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
 Brutus. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:
When it is lighted, come and call me here.
 Exit
 Brutus. 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 question.
 It is the bright day that brings forth the adder;
 615
 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.
 The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
 Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar,
 620
 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-upward turns his face;
 But when he once attains the upmost round.
 625
 He then unto the ladder turns his back,
 Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
 By which he did ascend. So Caesar may.
 Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
 Will bear no colour for the thing he is,
 630
 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.
 635
 Re-enter LUCIUS
 Lucius. 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.
 640
 Gives him the letter
 Brutus. Get you to bed again; it is not day.
Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?
 Brutus. Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
 645
 Exit
 Brutus. The exhalations whizzing in the air
Give so much light that I may read by them.
 [Opens the letter and reads]
 650
 '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.
 655
 'Shall Rome, &c.' 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
 660
 To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise:
 If the redress will follow, thou receivest
 Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!
 Re-enter LUCIUS
 Lucius. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.
 665
 Knocking within
 Brutus. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks.
[Exit LUCIUS]
 Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,
 I have not slept.
 670
 Between the acting of a dreadful thing
 And the first motion, all the interim is
 Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:
 The Genius and the mortal instruments
 Are then in council; and the state of man,
 675
 Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
 The nature of an insurrection.
 Re-enter LUCIUS
 Lucius. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
Who doth desire to see you.
 680
 Lucius. No, sir, there are moe with him.
 Lucius. No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears,
And half their faces buried in their cloaks,
 685
 That by no means I may discover them
 By any mark of favour.
 Brutus. Let 'em enter.
[Exit LUCIUS]
 They are the faction. O conspiracy,
 690
 Shamest 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, conspiracy;
 Hide it in smiles and affability:
 695
 For if thou path, thy native semblance on,
 Not Erebus itself were dim enough
 To hide thee from prevention.
 [Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS
 BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS]
 700
 Cassius. I think we are too bold upon your rest:
Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?
 Brutus. I have been up this hour, awake all night.
Know I these men that come along with you?
 Cassius. Yes, every man of them, and no man here
 705But honours you; and every one doth wish
 You had but that opinion of yourself
 Which every noble Roman bears of you.
 This is Trebonius.
 Brutus. He is welcome hither.
 710
 Cassius. This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.
 Brutus. They are all welcome.
What watchful cares do interpose themselves
 715
 Betwixt your eyes and night?
 BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper
 Cinna. O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines
That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
 Casca. You shall confess that you are both deceived.
Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises,
 Which is a great way growing on the south,
 725
 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, directly here.
 Brutus. Give me your hands all over, one by one.
 730
 Cassius. And let us swear our resolution.
 Brutus. No, not an oath: if not the face of men,
The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,—
 If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
 And every man hence to his idle bed;
 735
 So let high-sighted tyranny range on,
 Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
 As I am sure they do, bear fire enough
 To kindle cowards and to steel with valour
 The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen,
 740
 What need we any spur but our own cause,
 To prick us to redress? what other bond
 Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word,
 And will not palter? and what other oath
 Than honesty to honesty engaged,
 745
 That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
 Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous,
 Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls
 That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear
 Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain
 750
 The even virtue of our enterprise,
 Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits,
 To think that or our cause or our performance
 Did need an oath; when every drop of blood
 That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,
 755
 Is guilty of a several bastardy,
 If he do break the smallest particle
 Of any promise that hath pass'd from him.
 Cassius. But what of Cicero? shall we sound him?
I think he will stand very strong with us.
 760
 Casca. Let us not leave him out.
 Metellus Cimber. O, let us have him, for his silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion
 And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:
 765
 It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands;
 Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
 But all be buried in his gravity.
 Brutus. O, name him not: let us not break with him;
For he will never follow any thing
 770
 That other men begin.
 Casca. Indeed he is not fit.
 Cassius. Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet,
 775Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar,
 Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him
 A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means,
 If he improve them, may well stretch so far
 As to annoy us all: which to prevent,
 780
 Let Antony and Caesar fall together.
 Brutus. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,
To cut the head off and then hack the limbs,
 Like wrath in death and envy afterwards;
 For Antony is but a limb of Caesar:
 785
 Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
 We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar;
 And in the spirit of men there is no blood:
 O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit,
 And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,
 790
 Caesar 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 carcass fit for hounds:
 And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
 795
 Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
 And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make
 Our purpose necessary and not envious:
 Which so appearing to the common eyes,
 We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers.
 800
 And for Mark Antony, think not of him;
 For he can do no more than Caesar's arm
 When Caesar's head is off.
 Cassius. Yet I fear him;
For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar—
 805
 Brutus. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he love Caesar, all that he can do
 Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar:
 And that were much he should; for he is given
 To sports, to wildness and much company.
 810
 Trebonius. There is no fear in him; let him not die;
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.
 Clock strikes
 Brutus. Peace! count the clock.
 Cassius. The clock hath stricken three.
 815
 Cassius. But it is doubtful yet,
Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no;
 For he is superstitious grown of late,
 Quite from the main opinion he held once
 820
 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.
 825
 Decius Brutus. Never fear that: if he be so resolved,
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;
 830
 But when I tell him he hates flatterers,
 He says 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.
 835
 Cassius. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
 Brutus. By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost?
 Cinna. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.
 Metellus Cimber. Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey:
 840
 I wonder none of you have thought of him.
 Brutus. 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.
 Cassius. The morning comes upon 's: we'll leave you, Brutus.
 845And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember
 What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.
 Brutus. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
Let not our looks put on our purposes,
 But bear it as our Roman actors do,
 850
 With untired 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:
 855
 Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,
 Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
 Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
 Enter PORTIA
 Brutus. 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.
 Portia. Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper,
 865
 You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
 Musing and sighing, with your arms across,
 And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
 You stared upon me with ungentle looks;
 I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head,
 870
 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
 875
 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
 880
 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.
 Brutus. I am not well in health, and that is all.
 Portia. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health,
 885He would embrace the means to come by it.
 Brutus. Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.
 Portia. Is Brutus sick? and is it physical
To walk unbraced and suck up the humours
 Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,
 890
 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,
 895
 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,
 900
 That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,
 Why you are heavy, and what men to-night
 Have had to resort to you: for here have been
 Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
 Even from darkness.
 905
 Brutus. Kneel not, gentle Portia.
 Portia. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
 Is it excepted I should know no secrets
 That appertain to you? Am I yourself
 910
 But, as it were, in sort or limitation,
 To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,
 And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs
 Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
 Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.
 915
 Brutus. You are my true and honourable wife,
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
 That visit my sad heart
 Portia. If this were true, then should I know this secret.
I grant I am a woman; but withal
 920
 A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife:
 I grant I am a woman; but withal
 A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter.
 Think you I am no stronger than my sex,
 Being so father'd and so husbanded?
 925
 Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em:
 I have made strong proof of my constancy,
 Giving myself a voluntary wound
 Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience.
 And not my husband's secrets?
 930
 Brutus. O ye gods,
Render me worthy of this noble wife!
 [Knocking within]
 Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile;
 And by and by thy bosom shall partake
 935
 The secrets of my heart.
 All my engagements I will construe to thee,
 All the charactery of my sad brows:
 Leave me with haste.
 [Exit PORTIA]
 940
 Lucius, who's that knocks?
 Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS
 Lucius. He is a sick man that would speak with you.
 Brutus. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how?
 945
 Ligarius. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.
 Brutus. O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!
 Ligarius. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of honour.
 950
 Brutus. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.
 Ligarius. By all the gods that Romans bow before,
I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome!
 Brave son, derived from honourable loins!
 955
 Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up
 My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,
 And I will strive with things impossible;
 Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?
 Brutus. A piece of work that will make sick men whole.
 960
 Ligarius. But are not some whole that we must make sick?
 Brutus. That must we also. What it is, my Caius,
I shall unfold to thee, as we are going
 To whom it must be done.
 Ligarius. Set on your foot,
 965And with a heart new-fired I follow you,
 To do I know not what: but it sufficeth
 That Brutus leads me on.
 Exeunt
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