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.
BRUTUS.
Let ’em enter.
[Exit Lucius.]
They are the faction. O conspiracy,
Sham’st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,
When evils are most free? O, then, by day
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough
To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy;
Hide it in smiles and affability:
For if thou path, thy native semblance on,
Not Erebus itself were dim enough
To hide thee from prevention.
Enter Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber and Trebonius.
CASSIUS.
I think we are too bold upon your rest:
Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?