Cin. All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, And so bestow these papers as you bade me. Cas. That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. [Exit Cinna. Come, Casca, you and I will, yet, ere day, Casca. O, he sits high in all the people's hearts: And that, which would appear offence in us, Will change to virtue, and to worthiness. Cas. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him, You have right well conceited. Let us go, For it is after midnight; and, ere day, We will awake him, and be sure of him. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. THE SAME. BRUTUS'S ORCHARD. Enter Brutus. Bru. What, Lucius! ho! I cannot, by the progress of the stars, cius! Enter Lucius. Luc. Call'd you, my lord? Bru. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: When it is lighted, come and call me here. Luc. I will, my lord. [Exit. Bru. 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; And that craves wary walking. Crown him? That; And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, Remorse from power: And, to speak truth of Cæsar, I have not known when his affections sway'd chievous; And kill him in the shell. Re-enter Lucius. Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, sir. Bru. Get you to bed again, it is not day. Bru. Look in the calendar, and bring me word. Luc. I will, sir. [Exit. Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air, Give so much light, that I may read by them. [Opens the letter, and reads. Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake, and see thyself. Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake, — Where I have took them up. 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 then To speak, and strike? O Rome! I make thee pro mise, If the redress will follow, thou receivest Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! : Re-enter Lucius. Luc. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. [Knock within. [Erit Lucius. Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar, Between the acting of a dreadful thing Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The genius, and the mortal instruments, The nature of an insurrection. Re-enter Lucius. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, Who doth desire to see you. Bru. Is he alone? Luc. No, sir, there are more with him. Bru. Do you know them? Luc. No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, And half their faces buried in their cloaks, That by no means I may discover them By any mark of favour. Bru. 1 Let them enter. [Exit Lucius. They are the faction. O conspiracy! Sham'st 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, con spiracy; 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, Metellus Cas. I think, we are too bold upon your rest: Bru. He is welcome hither. |