Page 2178 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

And then, I grant, we put a sting in him
That at his will he may do danger with.
Th’abuse of greatness is when it disjoins
Remorse from power, and, to speak truth of Caesar,

I have not known when his affections swayed [20]
More than his reason. But ’tis a common proof
That lowliness is young ambition’s ladder,
Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;

But when he once attains the upmost round
He then unto the ladder turns his back, [25]
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend. So Caesar may;

Then, lest he may, prevent. And since the quarrel
Will bear no colour for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus: that what he is, augmented, [30]
Would run to these and these extremities;

And therefore think him as a serpent’s egg,
Which, hatched, would as his kind grow mischievous,
And kill him in the shell.

Enter Lucius.

LUCIUS
The taper burneth in your closet, sir. [35]

Searching the window for a flint, I found
This paper, thus sealed up; and I am sure
It did not lie there when I went to bed.
He gives him the letter.

BRUTUS
Get you to bed again, it is not day.

Is not tomorrow, boy, the Ides of March? [40]

LUCIUS
I know not, sir.

BRUTUS
Look in the calendar and bring me word.