LUCIUS.
The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
Searching the window for a flint I found
This paper thus seal'd up, and I am sure
It did not lie there when I went to bed.
BRUTUS.
Get you to bed again; it is not day.
Is not tomorrow, boy, the Ides of March?
LUCIUS.
I know not, sir.
BRUTUS.
Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
LUCIUS.
I will, sir.
[Exit.]
BRUTUS.
The exhalations, whizzing in the air
Give so much light that I may read by them. —
[Opens the letter and reads.]
"Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake and see thyself.
Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress — !
Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake! — "
Such instigations have been often dropp'd
Where I have took them up.
"Shall Rome, & c." Thus must I piece it out:
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome?
My ancestors did from the streets of Rome
The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. —
"Speak, strike, redress!" — Am I entreated, then,
To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
If the redress will follow, thou receivest
Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!
[Re-enter Lucius.]
