Casca. You speak to Casca; and to such a man, That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand'. Be factious for redress of all these griefs; 2 And I will set this foot of mine as far, Cas. There's a bargain made. Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already In Pompey's porch: For now, this fearful night, Is favour'd, like the work we have in hand, Enter CINNA. Casca. Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. Cas. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait; He is a friend.-Cinna, where haste you so? Cin. To find out you: Who's that? Metellus Cimber? Cas. No, it is Casca; one incorporate To our attempts. Am I not staid for, Cinna? Cin. I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this! There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. Cas. Am I not staid for, Cinna? Tell me. Cin. You are. O, Cassius, if you could but win The noble Brutus to our party— Yes, Cas. Be you content: Good Cinna, take this paper, 1 Hold, my hand.] Is the same as, Here's my hand. 2 Be factious for redress-] Factious seems here to mean active. 3 Is favour'd,] To favour is to resemble; but Mr. Malone reads "In favours," which was suggested by Dr. Johnson, i. e. in looks, appearances, &c. And look you lay it in the prætor's chair, Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. Cin. All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone [Exit CINNA. Come, Casca, you and I will, yet, ere day, Upon the next encounter, yields him ours. Casca. O, he sits high, in all the people's hearts: And that, which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchymy, 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, Give guess how near to day.-Lucius, I say!— 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. 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: [Exit. How that might change his nature, there's the question. And that craves wary walking. Crown him?-That ;— Remorse from power': And, to speak truth of Cæsar, Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, Would run to these, and these extremities: And therefore think him as a serpent's egg, 6 Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind', grow mischievous; And kill him in the shell. 4 Remorse from power:] Remorse is pity, tenderness. 5 common proof] Common proof means a matter proved by common experience. base degrees] Low steps. 6 7 as his kind,] i. e. like the rest of his species. Re-enter LUCIUS. Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, sir. Searching the window for a flint, I found This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, It did not lie there when I went to bed. Bru. Get you to bed again, it is not day. Bru. Look in the calendar, and bring me word. Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air, [Exit. [Opens the Letter, and reads. Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake, and see thyself. Such instigations have been often dropp'd 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 promise, 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. Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. [Knock within. [Exit LUCIUS. † Mr. Malone omits then. Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar, I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is 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. 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, conspiracy; 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. 8 "state of a man,"-MALOne. any mark of favour.] Any distinction of countenance. "For if thou path, thy native semblance on,] If thou walk in thy true form. |