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 "Casear." Speak; Caesar is turned 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 up on Caesar.
Caesar: What say'st thous to me now? Speak once again.
Soothsayer: Beware the ides of March.
Caesar: He is a dreamer, let us leave him. Pass.
