The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

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 Caesar.

Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly what thou think’st of him.

Sennet. Exeunt Caesar and all his Train but Casca.

CASCA. You pull’d me by the cloak; would you speak with me?

BRUTUS. Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanced today That Caesar looks so sad.

CASCA. Why, you were with him, were you not?

BRUTUS. I should not then ask Casca what had 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 ashouting.

BRUTUS. What was the second noise for?

CASCA. Why, for that too.

CASSIUS. They shouted thrice. What was the last cry for?

CASCA. Why, for that too.

BRUTUS. Was the crown offered him thrice?

CASCA. Ay, marry, wast, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other, and at every putting by mine honest neighbors shouted.

CASSIUS. Who offered him the crown?

CASCA. Why, Antony.

BRUTUS. 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 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 nightcaps and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked Caesar, 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.

CASSIUS. But, soft, I pray you, what, did Caesars wound?

CASCA. He fell down in the marketplace and foamed at mouth and was speechless.

BRUTUS. ‘Tis very like. He hath the falling sickness.

CASSIUS. No, Caesar 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 Caesar fell down. If the tagrag 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.

BRUTUS. 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 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 anything 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 Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.

BRUTUS. And after that he came, thus sad, away?

CASCA. Ay.

CASSIUS. Did Cicero say anything?

CASCA. Ay, he spoke Greek.

CASSIUS. 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 Caesar’s images, are put to silence. Fare you well.

There was more foolery yet, if could remember it.

CASSIUS. Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?

CASCA. No, I am promised forth.

CASSIUS. Will you dine with me tomorrow?

CASCA. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the eating.

CASSIUS. Good, I will expect you.

CASCA. Do so, farewell, both. Exit.

BRUTUS. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!

He was quick mettle when he went to school.

CASSIUS. So is he now in execution

Of any bold or noble enterprise,

However he puts on this tardy form.

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

BRUTUS. And so it is. For this time I will leave you.

Tomorrow, 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.

CASSIUS. I will do so. Till then, think of the world.

Exit Brutus.

Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see Thy honorable mettle may be wrought

From that it is disposed; therefore it is meet That noble minds keep ever with their likes; For who so firm that cannot be seduced?

Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus.

If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, He should not humor 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 Caesar’s ambition shall be glanced at.

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

SCENE III.

A street. Thunder and lightning.

Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero.

CICERO. Good even, Casca. Brought you Caesar home?

Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?

CASCA. Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, I have seen tempests when the scolding winds Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam To be exalted with the threatening clouds, But never till tonight, never till now, Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.

Either there is a civil strife in heaven, Or else the world too saucy with the gods Incenses them to send destruction.

CICERO. Why, saw you anything 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 glaz’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 noonday upon the marketplace, Howling 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.

CICERO. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time.

But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.

Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?

CASCA. He doth, for he did bid Antonio

Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.

CICERO. Good then, Casca. This disturbed sky Is not to walk in.

CASCA. Farewell, Cicero. Exit Cicero.

Enter Cassius.

CASSIUS. Who’s there?

CASCA. A Roman.

CASSIUS. Casca, by your voice.

CASCA. Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!

CASSIUS. A very pleasing night to honest men.

CASCA. Who ever knew the heavens menace so?

CASSIUS. 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 bared my bosom to the thunderstone; 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.

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.

CASSIUS. 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 To see the strange impatience of the heavens.

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 infused 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 Caesar that you mean, is it not, Cassius?

CASSIUS. 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 tomorrow Mean to establish Caesar as a king,

And he shall wear his crown by sea and land In every place save here in Italy.

CASSIUS. I know where I will wear this dagger then: Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius.

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. Thunder still.

CASCA. So can I.

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

CASSIUS. And why should Caesar 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 Caesar? 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