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  ANTONY. Caesar, my lord?

  CAESAR. Forget not in your speed, Antonio, 

    To touch Calpurnia, for our elders say 

    The 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 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 but 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 honor 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 honor more than I fear death.

  CASSIUS. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 

    As well as I do know your outward favor. 

    Well, honor 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 the winter's cold as well as he. 

    For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 

    The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 

    Caesar said to me, "Darest thou, Cassius, now 

    Leap in with me into this angry flood 

    And swim to yonder point?" Upon the word, 

    Accoutred as I was, I plunged in 

    And bade him follow. So indeed he did. 

    The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it 

    With lusty sinews, throwing it aside 

    And stemming it with hearts of controversy. 

    But ere we could arrive the point proposed, 

    Caesar cried, "Help me, Cassius, or I sink! 

    I, as Aeneas our great ancestor 

    Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 

    The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber 

    Did I the tired Caesar. And this man 

    Is now become a god, and Cassius is 

    A wretched creature and must bend his body 

    If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. 

    He had a fever when he was in Spain, 

    And when the fit was on him I did mark 

    How he did shake. 'Tis true, this god did shake; 

    His coward lips did from their color fly, 

    And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world 

    Did lose his luster. I did hear him groan.