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Mark Antony offer him the crown; 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 a third time: he put it the third time by; and still as he refused it, the rabblemen hooted, and clapped their chopt hands, and threw up their sweaty nightcaps, 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


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 has 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 used 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 stabb'd 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'th' 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. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Cas. Will you sup with me, to-night, Casca?
Casca. No, I'm promised forth.

Cas. Will dine with me to-morrow?

Casca. Av, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner be worth the eating.

Cas. Good, I will expect you.
Casca. Do so; farewell both.


Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be! He was quick mettle, when he went to school. Cas. So he is now in execution

Of any bold or noble enterprize.

However he puts on his tardy form;

This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,
Which gives men stomach to digest his words,

With better appetite.

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, will, if you Come home to me, and I will wait for you.


Cas. I will do so; till then think on the world.
Bru. Till then, my noble friend, chew
Brutus had rather be a villager,
Than to repute himself a son of Rome,
Under such hard conditions, as this time
Is like to lay upon us.
Cas. Well, Brutus, thou art noble ; yet




Thy honourable metal may be wrought
From what 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,
He should not humour 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
Cæsar's ambition shall be glanced at.

And, after this, let Cæsar seat him sure;
For we will shake him, or worse days endure.




A Street in Rome.

Enter Casca, his Sword drawn, and Trebonius meeting him.

Tre. Good even, Casca: brought you Cæsar


Why are you breathless, and why stare you so? Casca. Are you not mov'd, when all the sway


Shakes like a thing unfirm? O, Trebonius!
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds


Ilave riv'd the knotty oaks and I have seen
Th' ambitious ocean swell and rage, and foam
To be exalted with the threa'tning clouds;
But never till to night, never till now,
Did 1 go through a tempest dropping fire.
Either there is a civil strife in heav'n,
Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,
Incenses them to send destruction.


Tre. 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 ha' 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, yesterday, the bird of night did sit,
Ev'n at noon day, upon the market place,
Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say,
That they are natural.

For, I believe, they are portentous things,
Unto the climate that they point upon.

Tre. 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 to meet him there, to-morrow.

[Thunder. Tre. Good night, then, Casca, this disturbed sky Is not to walk in.

Casca. Farewell, Trebonius.

[Exit Trebonius.

Enter Cassius.

Cat. Who's there?

Casca. A Roman.

Cas. Casca by your voice.

Casca. Your car 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

For my part I have walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perilous night;

And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself,

Ev'n 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,

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;

Now could 1, 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, Cas

sius ?

Cas. Let it be who it is; for Romans now

Have thewes 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 suff'rance show us womanish.

Casca. Indeed, they say, the senators, to-morrow, Mean to establish Cæsar as a king :

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