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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.

[Exit LUCIUS.

They are the faction. O conspiracy!
Sham'st thou to shew 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, confpiracy;
Hide it in smiles, and affability:

For if thou path thy native semblance 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 rest:
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 yourself,
Which every noble Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.

Bru. He is welcome hither.

Caf

JULIUS CÆSAR.

25

Caf. This, Decius Brutus.

Bru. He is welcome too.

Caf. This, Casca; this, Cinna;

And this, Metellus Cimber.

Bru. They are all welcome.

What watchful cares do interpose themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

Caf. Shall I entreat a word?

[They whisper.

Dec. Here lies the east: Doth not the day break

Cafca. No.

[here?

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

Cafca. You shall confefs, that you are both deceiv'd,

Here, as I point my fword, the sun 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 presents 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 resolution.
Bru. No, not an oath: If not the face of men,
The fufferance of our fouls, the time's abuse,
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 these,
As I am fure they do, bear fire enough
To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour
The melting spirits of women; then, countrymen,
What need we any fpur, but our own caufe,
To prick us to redress? what other bond,
Than fecret Romans, that have spoke the word,

And will not palter? and what other oath,

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Than honesty to honesty engag'd,
That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous,
Old feeble carrions, and fuch suffering fouls
That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear
Such creatures as men doubt: but do not stain

The even virtue of our enterprize,
Nor the infuppressive mettle of our fpirits,
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 smallest particle
Of any promife that hath paft from him.
Caf. But what of Cicero? Shall we found him
I think, he will stand very strong with us.
Cafia. Let us not leave him out.
Cin. No, by no means.

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

And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:
It shall be faid, his judgment rul'd our hands;
Our youths, and wildness, shall 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.

Cafca. 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 shall find of him

A threwd contriver; and, you know, his means,

If JULIUS CÆSAR.

27

If he improve them, may well stretch so far,
As to annoy us all: which to prevent,
Let Antony, and Cæfar, fall together.

Bru. Our course 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 stand 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 spirit,
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 carcase fit for hounds:
And let our hearts, as fubtle masters do,
Stir up their fervants to an act of rage,
And after seem to chide them. This shall make
Our purpose necessary, and not envious :
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall 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 himfelf; take thought, and die for Cæfar:
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;

C2

For

1

[Clock Strikes

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 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 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'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:

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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