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barren, touched in this holy chase,

      Shake off their sterile curse.

      ANTONY

      I shall remember:

      When Caesar says ’do this,’ it is perform’d.

      CAESAR

      Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

      Flourish

      SOOTHSAYER

      Caesar!

      CAESAR

      Ha! who calls?

      CASCA

      Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!

      CAESAR

      Who is it in the press that calls on me?

      I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

      Cry ’Caesar!’ Speak; Caesar is turn’d to hear.

      SOOTHSAYER

      Beware the ides of March.

      CAESAR

      What man is that?

      BRUTUS

      A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

      CAESAR

      Set him before me; let me see his face.

      CASSIUS

      Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.

      CAESAR

      What say’st thou to me now? speak once again.

      SOOTHSAYER

      Beware the ides of March.

      CAESAR

      He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.

      Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS

      CASSIUS

      Will you go see the order of the course?

      BRUTUS

      Not I.

      CASSIUS

      I pray you, do.

      BRUTUS

      I am not gamesome: I do lack some part

      Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

      Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;

      I’ll leave you.

      CASSIUS

      Brutus, I do observe you now of late:

      I have not from your eyes that gentleness

      And show of love as I was wont to have:

      You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand

      Over your friend that loves you.

      BRUTUS

      Cassius,

      Be not deceived: if I have veil’d my look,

      I turn the trouble of my countenance

      Merely upon myself. Vexed I am

      Of late with passions of some difference,

      Conceptions only proper to myself,

      Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors;

      But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-

      Among which number, Cassius, be you one-

      Nor construe any further my neglect,

      Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,

      Forgets the shows of love to other men.

      CASSIUS

      Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;

      By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

      Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

      Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

      BRUTUS

      No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself,

      But by reflection, by some other things.

      CASSIUS

      ’Tis just:

      And it is very much lamented, Brutus,

      That you have no such mirrors as will turn

      Your hidden worthiness into your eye,

      That you might see your shadow. I have heard,

      Where many of the best respect in Rome,

      Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus

      And groaning underneath this age’s yoke,

      Have wish’d that noble Brutus had his eyes.

      BRUTUS

      Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,

      That you would have me seek into myself

      For that which is not in me?

      CASSIUS

      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 on me, gentle Brutus:

      Were I a common laugher, or did use

      To stale with ordinary oaths my love

      To every new protester; if you know

      That I do fawn on men and hug them hard

      And after scandal them, or if you know

      That I profess myself in banqueting

      To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

      Flourish, and shout

      BRUTUS

      What means this shouting? I do fear, the people

      Choose Caesar for their king.

      CASSIUS

      Ay, do you fear it?

      Then must I think you would not have it so.

      BRUTUS

      I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.

      But wherefore do you hold me here so long?

      What is it that you would impart to me?

      If it be aught toward the general good,

      Set honour in one eye and death i’ the other,

      And I will look on both indifferently,

      For let the gods so speed me as I love

      The name of honour more than I fear death.

      CASSIUS

      I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,

      As well as I do know your outward favour.

      Well, honour is the subject of my story.

      I cannot tell what you and other men

      Think of this life; but, for my single self,

      I had as lief not be as live to be

      In awe of such a thing as I myself.

      I was born free as Caesar; so were you:

      We both have fed as well, and we can both

      Endure

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