[_Knocking within._ _Bru._ 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks.[3022] 60 [_Exit Lucius._ Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion all the interim is Like a phantasma or a hideous dream: 65 The Genius and the mortal instruments[3023] Are then in council, and the state of man[3024] Like to a little kingdom suffers then The nature of an insurrection. _Re-enter_ LUCIUS.[3025] _Luc._ Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, 70 Who doth desire to see you. _Bru._ Is he alone? _Luc._ No, sir, there are moe with him.[3026] _Bru._ Do you know them? _Luc._ No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears,[3027] And half their faces buried in their cloaks,[3028] That by no means I may discover them 75 By any mark of favour.[3029] _Bru._ Let 'em enter. [_Exit Lucius._ They are the faction. 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 80 To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy;[3030] Hide it in smiles and affability:[3031] For if thou path, thy native semblance on,[3032] Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention.[3033] 85 _Enter the conspirators_, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, _and_ TREBONIUS.[3034] _Cas._ I think we are too bold upon your rest: Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you? _Bru._ I have been up this hour, awake all night. Know I these men that come along with you?[3035] _Cas._ Yes, every man of them; and no man here 90 But honours you; and every one doth wish You had but that opinion of yourself Which every noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius. _Bru._ He is welcome hither. _Cas._ This, Decius Brutus. _Bru._ He is welcome too. 95 _Cas._ This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.[3036] _Bru._ They are all welcome.[3037] What watchful cares do interpose themselves[3038] Betwixt your eyes and night? _Cas._ Shall I entreat a word? [_They whisper._[3039] 100 _Dec._ Here lies the east: doth not the day break here? _Casca._ No. _Cin._ O, pardon, sir, it doth, and yon grey lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.