CÆSAR enters the Capitol, the rest following. All the Senators rise. Pop. I wish, your enterprize to-day may thrive. Cas. What enterprize, Popilius? Pop. Bru. What said Popilius Lena? Fare you well. [Advances to CÆSAR. Cas. He wish'd, to-day our enterprize might thrive. I fear, our purpose is discovered. Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæsar: mark him. Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, Cassius or Cæsar never shall turn back, For I will slay myself. Bru. Cassius, be constant: Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; Cas. Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus, He draws Mark Antony out of the way. [Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS. CÆSAR and the Senators take their Seats. Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar. Bru. He is address'd: press near, and second him. Cin. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. Cæs. Are we all ready? what is now amiss, That Cæsar and his senate must redress? Met. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Cæsar, Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat An humble heart: Cæs. I must prevent thee, Cimber. These couchings, and these lowly courtesies, And turn pre-ordinance, and first decree, Into the law of children. Be not fond, To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood, [Kneeling. That will be thaw'd from the true quality With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him, Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæsar; Desiring thee, that Publius Cimber may Have an immediate freedom of repeal. Cæs. What, Brutus! Cas. Pardon, Cæsar; Cæsar, pardon: As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. Cæs. I could be well mov'd, if I were as you; If I could pray to move, prayers would move me; But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true, fix'd, and resting quality, There is no fellow in the firmament. The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, That unassailable holds on his rank, Let me a little show it, even in this, That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, And constant do remain to keep him so. Casca. Speak, hands, for me. [CASCA stabs CÆSAR in the Neck. CÆSAR catches hold of his Arm. He is then stabbed by several other Conspirators, and last by MARCUS BRUTUS. Cæs. Et tu, Brute? - Then fall, Cæsar. [Dies. The Senators and People retire in confusion. Cin. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! Bru. People, and senators! be not affrighted. Dec. Bru. Where 's Publius? And Cassius too. Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. Met. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Cæsar's Should chance Bru. Talk not of standing. - Publius, good cheer: Cas. And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, Re-enter TREBONIUS. Cas. Where's Antony? Fled to his house amaz'd. Men, wives, and children, stare, cry out, and run, As it were doomsday. Bru. Fates, we will know your pleasures. That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon. Casca. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life, Cuts off so many years of fearing death. Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit: So are we Cæsar's friends, that have abridg'd Cas. Stoop then, and wash. How many ages hence, Shall this our lofty scene be acted over, In states unborn, and accents yet unknown? Bru. How many times shall Cæsar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey's basis lies along, No worthier than the dust? Cas. So oft as that shall be, So often shall the knot of us be call'd The men that gave their country liberty. Dec. What! shall we forth? Cas. Ay, every man away: Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels Enter a Servant. Bru. Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's. Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down, Thorough the hazards of this untrod state, Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman : Tell him, so please him come unto this place, Depart untouch'd. Serv. I'll fetch him presently. [Exit Servant. Bru. I know, that we shall have him well to friend. Cas. I wish, we may; but yet have I a mind, That fears him much, and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose. Re-enter ANTONY. Bru. But here comes Antony. - Welcome, Mark Antony. Ant. O mighty Cæsar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: As Cæsar's death's hour; nor no instrument Of half that worth, as those your swords, made rich I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Bru. O Antony! beg not your death of us. |