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.
BRUTUS.
Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
So are we Caesar’s friends, that have abridg’d
His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,
And let us bathe our hands in Caesar’s blood
Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords:
Then walk we forth, even to the market-place,
And waving our red weapons o’er our heads,
Let’s all cry, “Peace, freedom, and liberty!”
CASSIUS.
Stoop then, and wash. How many ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
In States unborn, and accents yet unknown!
BRUTUS.
How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompey’s basis lies along,
No worthier than the dust!
CASSIUS.
So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of us be call’d
The men that gave their country liberty.
DECIUS.
What, shall we forth?
CASSIUS.
Ay, every man away.
Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
Enter a Servant.
BRUTUS.
Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony’s.