Julius Caesar | Page 9

'tis a common proof,
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,

Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;
But, when he once
attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,

Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did
ascend: so Caesar may;
Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the
quarrel
Will bear no color for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus,--that
what he is, augmented,
Would run to these and these extremities:

And therefore think him as a serpent's egg
Which hatch'd, would, as
his kind grow mischievous;
And kill him in the shell.
[Re-enter Lucius.]
LUCIUS.
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.
BRUTUS.
Get you to bed again; it is not day.
Is not tomorrow, boy,
the Ides of March?
LUCIUS.
I know not, sir.
BRUTUS.
Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
LUCIUS.
I will, sir.
[Exit.]
BRUTUS.
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.
Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress--!
Brutus, thou
sleep'st: awake!--"
Such instigations have been often dropp'd
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 promise,
If the redress will follow, thou
receivest
Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!
[Re-enter Lucius.]
LUCIUS.
Sir, March is wasted fifteen days.
[Knocking within.]
BRUTUS.
'Tis good. Go to the gate, somebody knocks.--

[Exit Lucius.]
Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar
I have not slept.

Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the
interim is
Like a phantasma or a hideous dream:
The genius and the
mortal instruments
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like
to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection.
[Re-enter Lucius].
LUCIUS.
Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
Who doth desire
to see you.
BRUTUS.
Is he alone?
LUCIUS.
No, sir, there are more with him.
BRUTUS.
Do you know them?
LUCIUS.
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 favor.
BRUTUS.
Let 'em enter.--
[Exit Lucius.]
They are the faction.--O conspiracy,
Shamest 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 pass, thy native semblance on,
Not Erebus
itself were dim enough
To hide thee from prevention.
[Enter Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and

Trebonius.
CASSIUS.
I think we are too bold upon your rest:
Good morrow,

Brutus; do we trouble you?
BRUTUS.
I have been up this hour, awake all night.
Know I these
men that come along with you?
CASSIUS.
Yes, every man of them; and no man here
But honors
you; and every one doth wish
You had but that opinion of yourself

Which every noble Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.
BRUTUS.
He is welcome hither.
CASSIUS.
This Decius Brutus.
BRUTUS.
He is welcome too.
CASSIUS.
This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.
BRUTUS.
They are all welcome.--
What watchful cares do
interpose themselves
Betwixt your eyes and night?
CASSIUS.
Shall I entreat a word?
[BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper apart.]
DECIUS.
Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?
CASCA.
No.
CINNA.
O, pardon, sir, it doth, and yon grey lines
That fret the
clouds are messengers of day.
CASCA.
You shall confess that you are both deceived.
Here, as I
point my sword, the Sun arises;
Which is a great way growing on the
South,
Weighing the youthful season of the year.
Some two months
hence, up higher toward the North
He first presents his fire; and the
high East
Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.

BRUTUS.
Give me your hands all over, one by one.
CASSIUS.
And let us swear our resolution.
BRUTUS.
No, not an oath: if not the face of men,
The sufferance
of our souls, the time's abuse--
If these be motives weak, break off
betimes,
And every man hence to his idle bed;
So let high-sighted
tyranny range on,
Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
As I
am sure they do, bear fire enough
To kindle cowards, and to steel
with valour
The melting spirits of women; then, countrymen,
What
need we any spur but our own cause
To prick us to redress? what
other bond
Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word,
And will
not palter? and what other oath
Than honesty to honesty engaged,

That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
Swear priests, and cowards,
and men cautelous,
Old feeble carrions, and such suffering souls

That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear
Such creatures as men
doubt: but do not stain
The even virtue of our enterprise,
Nor th'
insuppressive mettle of our spirits,
To think that or our cause or our
performance
Did