SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS'S orchard.

[Enter Brutus.]

BRUTUS.
What, Lucius, ho!--
I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
Give guess how near to day.--Lucius, I say!--
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.--
When, Lucius, when! Awake, I say! What, Lucius!

[Enter Lucius.]

LUCIUS.
Call'd you, my lord?

BRUTUS.
Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:
When it is lighted, come and call me here.

LUCIUS.
I will, my lord.

[Exit.]

BRUTUS.
It must be by his death: and, for my part,
I know no personal cause to spurn at him,
But for the general. He would be crown'd:
How that might change his nature, there's the question: