But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye and death i' the other,
And I will look on both indifferently;
For let the gods so speed me as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.
Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 90
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.
I cannot tell what you and other men
Think of this life; but for my single self,
I had as lief not be as live to be

In awe of such a thing as I myself.

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A wretched creature and must bend his body
If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.
He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And when the fit was on him, I did mark
How he did shake; 'tis true, this god did shake;
His coward lips did from their colour fly,
And that same eye whose bend doth awe the
world

Did lose his lustre; I did hear him groan;
Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans
Mark him and write his speeches in their books,
Alas! it cried 'Give me some drink, Titinius,'
As a sick girl, Ye gods, it doth amaze me
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.

Bru.

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Shout. Flourish.
Another general shout!
I do believe that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar.
Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow
world

Like a Colossus; and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Brutus and Cæsar: what should be in that
'Cæsar'?

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
When went there by an age, since the great flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man!
When could they say, till now, that talk'd of
Rome,

That her wide walks encompass'd but one man!
Now is it Rome indeed and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man.
O! you and I have heard our fathers say,
There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome,
As easily as a king.

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Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jeal

ous;

What you would work me too, I have some aim
How I have thought of this and of these times,
I shall recount hereafter; for this present,
I would not, so with love I might entreat you,
Be any further mov'd. What you have said
I will consider; what you have to say

I will with patience hear, and find a time
Both meet to hear and answer such high things.
Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: n
Brutus had rather be a villager

Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under these hard conditions as this time
Is like to lay upon us.

Cas.

I am glad

That my weak words have struck but thus much

show

Of fire from Brutus.

Bru. The games are done and Cæsar is returning.

Cas. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve, And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you What hath proceeded worthy note to-day.

Re-enter CESAR and his Train.

Bru. I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Cæsar's brow, And all the rest look like a chidden train: Calpurnia's cheek is pale, and Cicero Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes As we have seen him in the Capitol, Being cross'd in conference by some senators. Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is. Cæs. Antonius! Ant. Cæsar.

199

190

Why should that name be sounded more than yours?

Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
'Brutus' will start a spirit as soon as 'Cæsar.'

As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music;
Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit
That could be mov'd to smile at any thing.

210

Such men as he be never at heart's ease
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,
And therefore are they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd
Than what I fear, for always I am Cæsar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly what thon think'st of him.
Sennet. Exeunt CESAR and his Train.
CASCA stays behind.
Casca. You pull'd me by the cloak; would
you speak with me?

Bru. Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day,

That Cæsar looks so sad.

Casca. Why, you were with him, were you not? Bru. I should not then ask Casca what hath chanced.

Casca. Why, there was a crown offered him; and, being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; and then the people fell a-shouting. 222

Bru. What was the second noise for?
Casca. Why, for that too.

Cas. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?

Casca. Why, for that too.

Bru. Was the crown offered him thrice?

Casca. Ay, marry, was 't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours shouted. 230 Cas. Who offered him the crown?

Casca. Why, Antony.

Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. Casca. I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown; yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets; and, as I told you, he put it by once; but, for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again; then he put it by again; but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by; and still as he refused it, the rabblement shouted, and clapped their chopped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Cæsar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; for he swounded and fell down at it. And for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air. 252 Cas. But soft, I pray you: what did Cæsar swound?

Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless.

Bru. "Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness. Cas. No, Cæsar hath it not; but you, and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. Casca. I know not what you mean by that; but I am sure Cæsar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man.

Bru. What said he when he came unto himself? Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut. An I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have

taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried Alas! good soul,' and forgave him with all their hearts; but there's no heed to be taken of them: if Cæsar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.

Bru. And after that, he came, thus sad, away?
Casca. Ay.

Cas. Did Cicero say any thing?
Casca. Ay, he spoke Greek.

Cas. To what effect?

281

Casca. Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' the face again; but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too; Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Cæsar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it. Cas. Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? Casca. No, I am promised forth. Cas. Will you dine with me to-morrow? Casca. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the eating. Cas. Good; I will expect you. Casca. Do so. Farewell, both.

292

Exit.

310

To-morrow, if you please to speak with me,
I will come home to you; or, if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for you.
Cas. I will do so: till then, think of the
world.
Exit BRUTUS.

Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,
Thy honourable metal may be wrought
From that it is dispos'd: therefore 'tis meet
That noble minds keep ever with their likes;
For who so firm that cannot be seduc'd?
Cæsar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus:
If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,

Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? Casca. A common slave, you know him well by sight,

Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand,
Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.
Besides, I have not since put up my sword,
Against the Capitol I met a lion,
Who glar'd upon me, and went surly by,
Without annoying me; and there were drawn
Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,
Transformed with their fear, who swore they

saw

Men all in fire walk up and down the streets.
And yesterday the bird of night did sit,
Even at noon-day, upon the market-place,
Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say
These are their reasons, they are natural';
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the climate that they point upon.

20

30

Cic. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Comes Cæsar to the Capitol to-morrow?

Casca. He doth; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you he would be there to-morrow. Cic. Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky

Is not to walk in. Casca.

Farewell, Cicero. Exit CICERO. Enter CASSIUS.

Cas. Who's there? Casca.

A Roman. Cas. Casca, by your voice. Casca. Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this! 42

Cas. A very pleasing night to honest men.
Casca. Whoever knew the heavens menace so?
Cas. Those that have known the earth so full
of faults.

For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perilous night,
And, thus unbraced, Casca. as you see,
Have bar'd my bosom to the thunder-stone;
And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
Even in the aim and very flash of it.

51

Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt

the heavens ?

It is the part of men to fear and tremble
When the most mighty gods by tokens send
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.

Cas. You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life
That should be in a Roman you do want,
Or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze,
And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder, 60

But if you would consider the true cause
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
Why birds and beasts, from quality and kind;
Why old men, fools, and children, calculate;
Why all these things change from their ordinance,
Their natures, and preformed faculties,

To monstrous quality, why, you shall find
That heaven hath infus'd them with these spirits
To make them instruments of fear and warning
Unto some monstrous state.

Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man
Most like this dreadful night,

That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
As doth the lion in the Capitol,

A man no mightier than thyself or me
In personal action, yet prodigious grown
And fearful as these strange eruptions are.
Casca. 'Tis Cæsar that you mean; is it not,
Cassius ?

Cas. Let it be who it is: for Romans now Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors: But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead. And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits; Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.

Casca. Indeed, they say the senators to-morroT Mean to establish Cæsar as a king; And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, In every place, save here in Italy.

Cas. I know where I will wear this dagger then; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassins: Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong: Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this, know all the world besides, That part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure.

Casca.

Thunder still.

So can I: So every bondman in his own hand bears The power to cancel his captivity.

Cas. And why should Cæsar be a tyrant then! Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf But that he sees the Romans are but sheep; He were no lion were not Romans hinds. Those that with haste will make a mighty fire Begin it with weak straws; what trash is Rome, What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves For the base matter to illuminate

So vile a thing as Cæsar! But, O grief!
Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this
Before a willing bondman; then I know
My answer must be made: but I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent.

Casca. You speak to Casca, and to such a man
That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand:
Be factions for redress of all these griefs,
And I will set this foot of mine as far
As who goes furthest.
Cas.
There's a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
To undergo with me an enterprise

Of honourable dangerous consequence;
And I do know, by this they stay for me
In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night,

Bru. Exit LUCIUS. They are the faction. O conspiracy! Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,

80

When evils are most free? O then by day
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough
To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, con-
spiracy;

Hide it in smiles and affability:

For if thou path, thy native semblance on,
Not Erebus itself were dim enough
To hide thee from prevention.

Enter the Conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS,
CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS.
Cus. I think we are too bold upon your rest :
Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?

Bru. I have been up this hour, awake all night. Know I these men that come along with you? Cas. Yes, every man of them; and no man here

But honours you; and every one doth wish
You had but that opinion of yourself
Which every noble Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.

90

He is welcome too.

What need we any spur 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 engag`d,

That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous,
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 mettle 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 a several bastardy,

If he do break the smallest particle

Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. 20
Cas. But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him!
I think he will stand very strong with us.
Casca. Let us not leave him out.
Cin.
No, by no means.
Met. O! let us have him, for his silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion

And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:
It shall be said his judgment rul'd our hands:
Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
But all be buried in his gravity.

Bru. O name him not; let us not break with
him:

For he will never follow any thing
That other men begin.

Cas.

Then leave him out.

Casca. Indeed he is not fit.

130

Dec. Shall no man else be touch'd but only

Cæsar?

Cas. Decius, well urg'd. I think it is not meet, Mark Antony, so well belov'd of Cæsar, Should outlive Cæsar: we shall find of him A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means. If he improve them, may well stretch so far As to annoy us all; which to prevent, Let Antony and Cæsar fall together.

Bru. Our course will seem too bloody, Caias Cassius,

To cut the head off and then hack the limbs,
Like wrath in death and envy afterwards;
For Antony is but a limb of Cæsar.

Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
We all stand up against the spirit of Cæsar;
And in the spirit of men there is no blood:
O! that we then could come by Cæsar's spiri
And not dismember Cæsar. But, alas!
Cæsar must bleed for it. And, gentle friends
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds:
And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make
Our purpose necessary and not envious;
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers.

199