Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? And do you now put on your best attire? Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, [Exeunt Citizens. Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, Assemble all the poor men of your sort; Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. See, whe'r their basest metal be not moved; They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness, Go you down that way towards the Capitol; This way will I. Disrobe the images, If you do find them decked with ceremonies. Mar. May we do so? You know it is the feast of Lupercal. Flav. It is no matter; let no images Will make him fly an ordinary pitch; Who else would soar above the view of men, [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. A public Place. Enter, in procession, with music, CESAR, ANTONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA, a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer. Cæs. Calphurnia,— Casca. Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks. Cæs. [Music ceases. Calphurnia, Cal. Here, my lord. Cæs. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course.-Antonius! Ant. Cæsar, my lord! Cæs. Forget not in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia; for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their sterile curse. I shall remember; Ant. Cæs. Ha! who calls? [Music. Casca. Bid every noise be still.-Peace yet again. [Music ceases. Cæs. Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry, Cæsar. Speak; Cæsar is turned to hear. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. What man is that? Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of March. Cas. Set him before me; let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng. Caes. What say'st thou to me now? Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. He is a dreamer; let us leave him; [Sennet. Exeunt all but BRU. and CAS. Look upon Cæsar. Speak once again. -pass. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course? Cas. I pray you, do. Bru. I am not gamesome; I do lack some part 2 Y Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late. Bru. Cassius, Of late, with passions of some difference, Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors; 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 Cas. 'Tis just; And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no such mirrors, as will turn That you might see your shadow. I have heard, (Except immortal Cæsar,) speaking of Brutus, And groaning underneath this age's yoke, Have wished 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? Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared 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 of me, gentle Brutus. To every new protester; if you know [Flourish [Flourish and shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear the people Choose Cæsar for their king. Cas. Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.— I was born free as Cæsar; so were you. And bade him follow; so, indeed, he did. I, as Eneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tyber, Did I the tired Cæsar. And this man Is now become a god; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 1 If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, How he did shake. 'Tis true, this god did shake: His coward lips did And that same eye, from their colour fly; whose bend doth awe the world, Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans Bru. Another general shout! I do believe that these applauses are [Shout. Flourish For some new honors that are heaped on Cæsar. Like a Colossus; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonorable 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? [Shout. That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! O! you and I have heard our fathers say, Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; What you would work me to, I have some aim; |