CAESAR
The cause is in my will: I will not come; That is enough to satisfy the senate. But for your private satisfaction, Because
I love you, I will let you know: Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home: She dreamt to-night she saw
my statua, Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans Came
smiling, and did bathe their hands in it: And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, And evils
imminent; and on her knee Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day. DECIUS BRUTUS
This dream is all amiss interpreted; It was a vision fair and fortunate: Your statue spouting blood in many
pipes, In which so many smiling Romans bathed, Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck Reviving
blood, and that great men shall press For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance. This by Calpurnia's
dream is signified. CAESAR
And this way have you well expounded it. DECIUS BRUTUS
I have, when you have heard what I can say: And know it now: the senate have concluded To give this
day a crown to mighty Caesar. If you shall send them word you will not come, Their minds may change.
Besides, it were a mock Apt to be render'd, for some one to say 'Break up the senate till another time, When
Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.' If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper 'Lo, Caesar is
afraid'? Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love To our proceeding bids me tell you this; And reason to
my love is liable. CAESAR
How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia! I am ashamed I did yield to them. Give me my robe, for I
will go.
Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, and CINNA
And look where Publius is come to fetch me. PUBLIUS
Good morrow, Caesar. CAESAR
Welcome, Publius. What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, Caesar
was ne'er so much your enemy As that same ague which hath made you lean. What is 't o'clock? BRUTUS
Caesar, 'tis strucken eight. CAESAR
I thank you for your pains and courtesy.
Enter ANTONY
See! Antony, that revels long o' nights, Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.
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