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you down that way towards the Capitol; This way will I disrobe the Images,

If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.1 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
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch;
Who else would soar above the view of men,

And keep us all in servile fearfulness.



Sc. I

SCENE II. The Same. A Public Place.

Flourish. Enter CÆSAR; ANTONY, for the Course;3 CAL-
and Casca; a great Crowd following, among them a

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CASCA. Bid every noise be still. Peace yet again!

8 The

1 festal garlands; ceremonial adornments. 2 (falconers')=a middling height.
God Lupercus stood for fertility in women. His priests, then, the Luperci, 'coursed' the
City; and their touch, as they went, gave increase to the barren womb on which 'twas laid.
4 i.e. curse of barrenness.

Sc. II

ACT I CES. Who is it in the press 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.1

What man is that?

BRU. A soothsayer bids you beware the Ides of March.
CAS. Set him before me; let me see his face.

CASS. Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Cæsar.
CAS. What say'st thou to me now? speak once again.
SOOTH. Beware the Ides of March.

CES. He is a dreamer; let us leave him. Pass.


[Sennet. Exeunt all but BRUTUS and CASSIUS. CASS. Will you go see the order of the Course? BRU. Not I.

CASS. I pray you, do.

BRU. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
I'll leave you.

CASS. Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness
And show of love as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.



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 behaviours:
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd
(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.

Cass. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion ;
By means whereof this breast of mine hath bury'd
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

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BRU. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not himself

But by reflection of some other things.
CASS. 'Tis just:

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirror 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?

CASS. 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 on2 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 scandal3 them; or if you know
That I profess myself' in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

BRU. What means this shouting?
Choose Cæsar for their King.




[Flourish, and shout. I do fear, the People

Ay; do you fear it? 80

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 Honour in one eye, and Death i' the other,

And I will look on Death indifferently;

For, let the Gods so speed me as I love

The name of Honour more than I fear Death.

Sc. II

1 image. 3 suspicious of.

3 abuse.

4 i.e. in terms of friendship.

Sc. II

CASS. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, Honour 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 Tiber 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 cried 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 Tiber
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 colour 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

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[Shout. Flourish.

Sc. II

So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.
BRU. Another general shout!

I do believe that these applauses are

For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar.

CASS. 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 dishonourable 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 Caesar: what should be in that Cæsar?
Why should that name be sounded more than your's?
Write them together, your's is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;

Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
Brutus will start a Spirit as soon as Cæsar.
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 sham'd! 150
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
When went there by an age, since the great Flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?

When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
Now is it, Rome indeed, and room1 enough,
When there is in it but one only man.

O, you and I have heard our fathers say,

There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd2
The eternal Devil to keep his state in Rome
As easily as a King.

BRU. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have some aim :3
How I have thought of this, and of these times,

I shall recount hereafter; for this present,

I would not, so with love I might entreat you,

any further mov'd.' What you have said,

I will consider; what you have to say,

I will with patience hear; and find a time

1 the pronunciation appears to have been the same.

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2 suffered.

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