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Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o'nights:
Ant. Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous; He is a noble Roman, and well given.
Cæs. '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
as that spare Cassius. He reads much;
He is a great observer, and he looks
[Exeunt Cæsar, 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 chanc'd today,
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,
Casca. Why, there was a crown offer'd him: and being offer'd 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 other; and at every putting by, mine honest neighbours shouted.
Cas. Who offer'd him the crown?
Casca. Why, Antony.
Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. Casca. I can as well be hang'd, 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 offer'd 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 offer'd it the third time; he put it the third time by: and still as he refused it, the rabblement hooted, and clapp'd their chopp'd hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and utter'd such a deal of stinking breath because Cæsar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; for he swoon'd, 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
Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and
Bru. 'Tis very like; he hath the falling-sickness.
Casca. I know not what you mean by that; but,
Bru. What said he, when he came unto himself? Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he pluck'd offer'd 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 himself again, he said, If he had done, or said, any rogues:-and so he fell. When he came to me ope his doublet, and 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 stabb'd their mothers, they would have done no less.
Bru. And after that, he came, thus sad, away?)
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.
This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,
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 to me, and I will wait for you. Cus. I will do so:-till then, think of the world.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,
And, after this, let Cæsar seat him sure;
For we shall shake him, or worse days endure.
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? Cusca. Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of earth
Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,