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Starred: Rita Elizabeth. Description: Rita is a tall young European temptress with a firm athletic body. Her man wastes no time getting her naked and burying his head between her legs to lick her sweet bald honey pot. With her passions set ablaze, she ravenously sucks his thick stout shaft with wolfish hunger and deft oral aptitude. When, Lucius, when? It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; And that craves wary walking.
Crown him? He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. Then, lest he may, prevent.
Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March? Speak, strike, redress! What, Rome? O Rome, I make thee promise: If the redress will follow, thou receivest Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! Go to the gate; somebody knocks. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
O conspiracy, Shamest 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.
Know I these men that come along with you? This is Trebonius. What watchful cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your eyes and night? Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, Which is a great way growing on the south, Weighing the youthful season of the year. Some two months hence up higher toward the north He first presents his fire; and the high east Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. But if these, As I am sure they do, bear fire enough To kindle cowards and to steel with valour The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, What need we any spur but our own cause, To prick us to redress?
I think he will stand very strong with us. But, alas, Caesar must bleed for it! And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.
BRUTUS Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; Let not our looks put on our purposes, But bear it as our Roman actors do, With untired spirits and formal constancy: And so good morrow to you every one. Fast asleep? It is not for your health thus to commit Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.
Dear my lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. Good Portia, go to bed. What, is Brutus sick, And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, To dare the vile contagion of the night And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air To add unto his sickness?
No, my Brutus; You have some sick offence within your mind, Which, by the right and virtue of my place, I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, I charm you, by my once-commended beauty, By all your vows of love and that great vow Which did incorporate and make us one, That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, Why you are heavy, and what men to-night Have had to resort to you: for here have been Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness.
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted I should know no secrets That appertain to you? Am I yourself But, as it were, in sort or limitation, To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure? Knocking within Hark, hark! All my engagements I will construe to thee, All the charactery of my sad brows: Leave me with haste. Boy, stand aside.
Caius Ligarius! Would you were not sick! Soul of Rome! Brave son, derived from honourable loins! Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, And I will strive with things impossible; Yea, get the better of them.
What it is, my Caius, I shall unfold to thee, as we are going To whom it must be done. Enter a Servant Servant My lord? Servant I will, my lord. You shall not stir out of your house to-day. There is one within, Besides the things that we have heard and seen, Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.
O Caesar! Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions Are to the world in general as to Caesar. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
Re-enter Servant What say the augurers? Servant They would not have you to stir forth to-day. Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, They could not find a heart within the beast. Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear That keeps you in the house, and not your own. Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. If you shall send them word you will not come, Their minds may change.
Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love To our proceeding bids me tell you this; And reason to my love is liable.
I am ashamed I did yield to them. Give me my robe, for I will go. Good morrow, Casca. Good morrow, Antony. Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius! There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee! My heart laments that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation.
If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live; If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. How hard it is for women to keep counsel! Art thou here yet? Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? And so return to you, and nothing else? Hark, boy! Soothsayer At mine own house, good lady. Soothsayer About the ninth hour, lady. Soothsayer Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, To see him pass on to the Capitol.
Soothsayer That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, I shall beseech him to befriend himself. Soothsayer None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. Good morrow to you. Ay me, how weak a thing The heart of woman is! O Brutus, The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint. Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; Say I am merry: come to me again, And bring me word what he doth say to thee.
Exeunt severally. Soothsayer Ay, Caesar; but not gone. Come to the Capitol. I fear our purpose is discovered. Brutus, what shall be done?
If this be known, Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, For I will slay myself. He draws Mark Antony out of the way. Let him go, And presently prefer his suit to Caesar. What is now amiss That Caesar and his senate must redress? These couchings and these lowly courtesies Might fire the blood of ordinary men, And turn pre-ordinance and first decree Into the law of children.
Thy brother by decree is banished: If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied. Then fall, Caesar. Tyranny is dead! Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. Publius, good cheer; There is no harm intended to your person, Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius. How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolved How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead So well as Brutus living; but will follow The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus Thorough the hazards of this untrod state With all true faith.
So says my master Antony. Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die: No place will please me so, no mean of death, As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, The choice and master spirits of this age. Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As, by our hands and this our present act, You see we do, yet see you but our hands And this the bleeding business they have done: Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; And pity to the general wrong of Rome— As fire drives out fire, so pity pity— Hath done this deed on Caesar.
Gentlemen all,—alas, what shall I say? My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward or a flatterer.
Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, It would become me better than to close In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me, Julius! O world, thou wast the forest to this hart; And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. How like a deer, strucken by many princes, Dost thou here lie! Friends am I with you all and love you all, Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
I do desire no more. Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Enter a Servant You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not? Servant I do, Mark Antony. Servant He did receive his letters, and is coming; And bid me say to you by word of mouth— O Caesar! Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water. Is thy master coming?
Servant He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. Yet, stay awhile; Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse Into the market-place: there shall I try In my oration, how the people take The cruel issue of these bloody men; According to the which, thou shalt discourse To young Octavius of the state of things. Lend me your hand. Cassius, go you into the other street, And part the numbers. First Citizen I will hear Brutus speak.
Second Citizen I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons, When severally we hear them rendered. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: —Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men?
As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? Who is here so vile that will not love his country?
I pause for a reply. All None, Brutus, none. I have done no more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy, nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. With this I depart,—that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
All Live, Brutus! First Citizen Bring him with triumph home unto his house. Second Citizen Give him a statue with his ancestors. Third Citizen Let him be Caesar. Brutus speaks. First Citizen Peace, ho! I do entreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. Exit First Citizen Stay, ho!
Noble Antony, go up. Goes into the pulpit Fourth Citizen What does he say of Brutus? Fourth Citizen Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here. First Citizen This Caesar was a tyrant. Second Citizen Peace! The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar.
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