pardoned by Caesar after he had been brought to trial, with Cicero as his defender.
Ligarius would have joined the conspiracy sooner but he is sick. As soon as he hears of the details, however, he says:
By all the gods that Romans bow before,
1 here discard my sickness!
- Act II, scene i, lines 320-21
This story too is from Plutarch, and it is another example of the kind of heroism Romans loved to find in their historical accounts.
The heavens themselves...
That same night on which Casca has seen supernatural prodigies and Brutus has joined the conspiracy, Caesar himself has had a restless sleep. His wife, Calphurnia, has had nightmares. What's more, she has heard of the sights men have seen and she doesn't want Caesar to leave the house the next day, fearing that all these omens foretell evil to him.
Caesar refuses to believe it, maintaining the omens are to the world generally and not to himself in particular. To which Calphurnia replies:
When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
- Act II, scene ii, lines 30-31
The comets, appearing in the skies at irregular intervals, and, with then-tails, taking on a most unusual shape, were wildly held to presage unusual disasters. For anything else, their appearance is too infrequent. Similarly, the unusual portents of the night must apply to some unusual person.
This makes sense provided astrology in general does.
Caesar does not go so far as to scorn astrology, but he does scorn fear in a pair of famous lines:
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
- Act II, scene ii, lines 32-33
Their minds may change
Nevertheless, Calphurnia continues to beg and eventually Caesar is sufficiently swayed to grant her her wish and to agree to send Mark Antony in his place.
It is morning by now, however, and Decius comes to escort Caesar to the Capitol. The news that Caesar has changed his mind and will not come staggers him. Quickly, he reinterprets all the omens and hints the senators will laugh. Not only does he make use of the threat of ridicule, but he also says:
... the Senate have concluded
To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar.
If you shall send them word you will not come,
Their minds may change.
- Act II, scene ii, lines 93-96
This seems true enough. Caesar is trying to pull off a coup that runs counter to the deepest Roman prejudices and it was bound to be a near thing. He had failed, at the Lupercalian festival, to gain a crown by popular acclamation. If he now missed a chance to force the Senate to give him one, he would be giving his opponents a chance to mobilize their forces and the whole project might be ruined. The historic Caesar won many successes by striking when the iron was hot and it isn't likely that he would let such a crucial moment pass.
Caesar changes his mind once again and makes the fateful decision to go.
... Read it, great Caesar
Caesar's progress toward the Capitol is attended by further warnings, according to Plutarch's story, which Shakespeare follows. The soothsayer is there and Caesar tells him ironically that the ides of March are come (presumably implying that all is well). To which the soothsayer answers, portentously:
Ay, Caesar, but not gone.
- Act III, scene i, line 2
Another man, Artemidorus, attempts to give Caesar a warning. According to Plutarch, he was a Greek professor of rhetoric from whom a number of the conspirators had been taking lessons. (In those days, rhetoric, the art of oratory, was indispensable to a public career.) He had picked up knowledge of their plans, presumably because they spoke carelessly before him, and he was anxious to reveal those plans to Caesar (perhaps out of pro-Caesarian conviction or perhaps out of the hope of profiting by Caesar's gratitude).
In any case, he passes a note of warning to Caesar, telling him of the plot. According to Plutarch, Caesar tried several times to read the note but was prevented from doing so by the press of people about him. Shakespeare makes it more dramatic, showing Caesar, by his arrogance, bringing his fate upon himself.
Artemidorus, in an agony of Impatience, cries out, as other petitions are handed Caesar:
O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit
That touches Caesar nearer. Read it, great Caesar.