I know no personal cause to spurn at him,
	But for the general. He would be crown'd:
	How that might change his nature, there's the question.
	It is the bright day that brings forth the adder;
	And that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;--
	And then, I grant, we put a sting in him,
	That at his will he may do danger with.
	The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
	Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar,
	I have not known when his affections sway'd
	More than his reason. But '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 colour 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.

	[Gives him the letter]

BRUTUS	Get you to bed again; it is not day.
	Is not to-morrow, 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
	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 fourteen 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 moe 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 favour.