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Caesar:
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,
They are all fire, and every one doth shine;
But there’s but one in all doth hold his place.
So in the world; ’tis furnish’d well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive;
Yet in the number I do know but one
That unassailable holds on his rank,
Unshak’d of motion: and that I am he,
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.
Cinna:
O Caesar,—
Caesar:
Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Decius:
Great Caesar,—
Caesar:
Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
Casca:
Speak, hands, for me!
(Casca stabs Caesar in the neck. Caesar catches hold of his arm. He is then stabbed by several other Conspirators, and at last by Marcus Brutus.)
Caesar:
Et tu, Brute?—Then fall Caesar!
(Dies. The Senators and People retire in confusion.)
Cinna:
Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
Cassius:
Some to the common pulpits and cry out,
“Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!”
Brutus:
People and Senators, be not affrighted.
Fly not; stand still; ambition’s debt is paid.
Casca:
Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
Decius:
And Cassius too.
Brutus:
Where’s Publius?
Cinna:
Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
Metellus:
Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar’s
Should chance—
Brutus:
Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer!
There is no harm intended to your person,
Nor to no Roman else. So tell them, Publius.
Cassius:
And leave us, Publius; lest that the people
Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
Brutus:
Do so; and let no man abide this deed
But we the doers.
Enter Trebonius.
Cassius:
Where’s Antony?
Trebonius:
Fled to his house amaz’d.
Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run,
As it were doomsday.
Brutus:
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.