ceiv'd 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? 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 ? 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. [Exit Casca. Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be? He was quick mettle, when he went to school. Cas. So is he now, in execution Of any bold or noble enterprise, A mechanick. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words Bru. And so it is. For this time I will leave you: To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, I will come home to you; or, if you will, Come home with 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 hardt; but he loves Brutus: If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, He should not humourt me. I will this night, In several hands, in at his windows throw, As if they came from several citizens, Writings all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely And, after this, let Cæsar seat him sure; * Disposed to. + Has an unfavourable opinion of me. [Erit. SCENE III. The same. A street. Thunder and lightning. Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero. Cic. Good even, Casca: Brought you Cæsar home* ? Why are you breathless? and why stare you so? Casca. Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of earth Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds 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 Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. 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. * Did you attend Cæsar home? And, yesterday, the bird of night did sit, Cic. Indeed, it is a strange disposed time: 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. Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this? Cas. A very pleasing night to honest men. Casca. Who ever 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, And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, And, when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open Even in the aim and very flash of it. Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens ? It is the part of men to fear and tremble, Cas. You are dull, Casca; and those sparks of life That should be in a Roman, you do want, Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, A man no mightier than thyself, or me, In personal action; yet prodigious t grown, Casca. 'Tis Cæsar that you mean: Is it not, Cassius? Cas. Let it be who it is: for Romans now Have the west 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-morrow 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; Why they deviate from quality and nature. + Portentous. Muscles. |