(Casca) No.
O, pardon, sir, it doth, and yon gray lines that fret the clouds are messengers of day.
(Cassius) And let us swear our resolution.
No, not an oath. If not the face of men, the sufferance of our souls, the time’s abuse- If these motives weak, break off bedtimes, and every man hence to his idle bed. So let high-sighted tyranny range on till each man drop by lottery. But if these- as I am sure they do - bear fire enough to kindle cowards and to steel with valor the melting spirits of women, then countrymen, what need we any sir but our own cause to prick us to redress? What other bond than secret Romans that have spoke the word and will not Palter? And what other oath than honesty to honesty engaged, that this shall be, or we will fall for it? Swear priests and cowards and men cautious, old feeble carrions and such suffering souls that welcome wrongs. Unto bad causes swear such creatures as men doubt. But do not stain the even virtue of our enterprise, Nor the insuppressive mettles of our spirits, to think that or our cause or our performance did need an oath, when every drop of blood that every Roman bears - and nobly bears - is guilty of several faults if he do break the smallest particle of any promise that hath passed from him.
(Casca) Let us not leave him out.
No, by no means.
(Brutus) By the eighth hour. Is that the uttermost?
Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.
