1 I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord.
2 Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it.
3 Mark Antony shall say I am not well, And for thy humour, I will stay at home.
4 Portia, go in awhile; And by and by thy bosom shall partake The secrets of my heart.
5 I should not urge thy duty past thy might; I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
6 O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.
7 If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument; I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night.
8 O setting sun, As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night, So in his red blood Cassius' day is set.
9 Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat An humble heart.
10 Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
11 I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
12 Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, For he went sickly forth: and take good note What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
13 Give me thy hand, Messala: Be thou my witness that against my will As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set Upon one battle all our liberties.
14 In Parthia did I take thee prisoner; And then I swore thee, saving of thy life, That whatsoever I did bid thee do, Thou shouldst attempt it.
15 Titinius, if thou lovest me, Mount thou my horse and hide thy spurs in him, Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops And here again, that I may rest assur'd Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.