A public place.
Stand you directly in Antonius’ way, When he doth run his course. Antonius!
Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their sterile curse.
I shall remember: When Caesar says “do this,” it is perform’d.
Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry “Caesar!” Speak; Caesar is turn’d to hear.
I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; I’ll leave you.