1. A lioness hath whelped in the streets;
And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead;

2. This dream is all amiss interpreted;
It was a vision fair and fortunate:

​3. Out hearts you see not; they are pitiful;
And pity to the general wrong of Rome –

4. Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar.

5. You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
But speak all good you can devise of Caesar,

6. But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.

7. Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,
Take thou what course thou wilt!

8. In every wound of Caesar that should move 
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.