That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, [Flourish, and shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the people Choose Cæsar for their king. Cas. Ay, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it so. Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well :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, I was born free as Cæsar; so were you: * Windy. Cæsar cry'd, Help me, Cassius, or I sink. I, as Æneas, our great ancestor, Is now become a god; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body, Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans [Shout. Flourish. Bru. Another general shout! I do believe, that these applauses are Like a Colossus; and we petty men * Temperament, constitution. Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, There was a Brutus* once, that would have brook'd Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous ; I will with patience hear: and find a time Than to repute himself a son of Rome Cas. I am glad, that my weak words Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. Re-enter Cæsar, and his train. 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. 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: Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero * Lucius Junius Brutus. + Guess. ↑ Ruminate. Looks with such ferret* and such fiery eyes, Ant. Cæsar. Cas. Let me have men about me that are fat; Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o'nights: Yond' Cassius bas a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. Ant. Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous; He is a noble Roman, and well given. Cas. 'Would he were fatter :-But I fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; Casca. You pull'd me by the cloak; Would you speak with me? Bru. Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanc'd 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 chanc'd. * A ferret bas red eyes. 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. 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 offer'd him thrice? Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than the other; and at every putting by, mine honest neighbours shouted. 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 hooted, 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 swooned, 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. Cas. But, soft, I pray you: What? did Cæsar swoon? 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. |