Sooth. Cæsar. Cæs. Ha! Who calls? Casca. Bid every noise be still:-Peace yet again. [Musick ceases. Cas. Who is it in the press, that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the musick, 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 Cas. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cæsar. Caes. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cas. He is a dreamer; let us leave him;-pass.' [Sennet2. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course? Bru. Not I. Cas. 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. Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: Bru. Cassius, Be not deceiv'd: If I have veil'd my look, Of late, with passions of some difference, Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviours; Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? Cas. 'Tis just: And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no such mirrors, as will turn Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me? Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear: That of yourself which you yet know not of. That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, 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 honour in one eye, and death i' the other, The name of honour more than I fear death. Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, As well as I do know your outward favour. I was born free as Cæsar; so were you: The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. 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, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans So get the start of the majestic world, Bru. Another general shout! I do believe, that these applauses are [Shout. Flourish. For some new honours 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 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 Cæsar: what should be in that Cæsar? Now in the names of all the gods at once, [Shout. |