Cavete Idus Martias

Soothsayer. Caesar!

CAESAR. Ha! who calls?

CASCA. Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!

CAESAR. 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.

Soothsayer. Beware the ides of March.

CAESAR. What man is that?

BRUTUS. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

CAESAR. Set him before me; let me see his face.

CASSIUS. Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.

CAESAR. What say’st thou to me now? speak once again.

Soothsayer. Beware the ides of March.

CAESAR. He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.