Caes I could be well mou'd, if I were as you,
If I could pray to mooue, Prayers would mooue me:
But I am constant as the Northerne Starre,
Of whose true fixt, and resting quality,
There is no fellow in the Firmament.
The Skies are painted with vnnumbred sparkes,
They are all Fire, and euery 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 apprehensiue;
Yet in the number, I do know but One
That vnassayleable holds on his Ranke,
Vnshak'd of Motion: and that I am he,
Let me a little shew it, euen in this:
That I was constant Cymber should be banish'd,
And constant do remaine to keepe him so
Cinna. O Caesar
Caes Hence: Wilt thou lift vp Olympus?
Decius. Great Caesar
Caes Doth not Brutus bootlesse kneele?
Cask. Speake hands for me.
They stab Caesar.
Caes Et Tu Brute? - Then fall Caesar.
Dyes
Cin. Liberty, Freedome; Tyranny is dead,
Run hence, proclaime, cry it about the Streets
Cassi. Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out
Liberty, Freedome, and Enfranchisement
Bru. People and Senators, be not affrighted:
Fly not, stand still: Ambitions debt is paid