To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out an holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Begone--
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague,
That needs must light on this ingratitude.

The well-known dialogue between Brutus and Cassius, in which the
latter breaks the design of the conspiracy to the former, and partly
gains him over to it, is a noble piece of high-minded declamation.
Cassius's insisting on the pretended effeminacy of Caesar's
character, and his description of their swimming across the Tiber
together, 'once upon a raw and gusty day', are among the finest
strokes in it. But perhaps the whole is not equal to the short scene
which follows when Caesar enters with his train.

Brutus. The games are done, and Caesar is returning.

Cassius. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve,
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
What has proceeded worthy note to-day.

Brutus. I will do so; but look you, Cassius--
The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train.
Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero