Julius Caesar - The Original Classic Edition. Shakespeare William

       O Cassius, if you could

       But win the noble Brutus to our party-

       CASSIUS. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper, And look you lay it in the praetor's chair,

       Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this

       In at his window; set this up with wax

       Upon old Brutus' statue. All this done,

       Repair to Pompey's Porch, where you shall find us.

       Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?

       CINNA. All but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone

       To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie And so bestow these papers as you bade me. CASSIUS. That done, repair to Pompey's Theatre.

       Exit Cinna. Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day

       See Brutus at his house. Three parts of him

       Is ours already, and the man entire

       Upon the next encounter yields him ours. CASCA. O, he sits high in all the people's hearts, And that which would appear offense in us,

       His countenance, like richest alchemy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness.

       CASSIUS. Him and his worth and our great need of him

       You have right well conceited. Let us go, For it is after midnight, and ere day

       We will awake him and be sure of him. Exeunt.

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       ACT II. SCENE I.

       Enter Brutus in his orchard.

       12

       BRUTUS. What, Lucius, ho!

       I cannot, by the progress of the stars, Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say!

       I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say! What, Lucius!

       Enter Lucius.

       LUCIUS. Call'd you, my lord?

       BRUTUS. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius. When it is lighted, come and call me here. LUCIUS. I will, my lord. Exit.

       BRUTUS. It must be by his death, and, for my part, 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