Conceptions only proper to myself, Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors: Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, 46. Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? 47. Bru. No, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things. 48. Cas. 'Tis just: 50. And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no such mirrors as will turn That you might see your shadow. I have heard, Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes. Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me! Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: And, since you know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass, Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself which you yet know not of. To every new protester; if you know That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. [Flourish and shout. 51. 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. 53. 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? The name of honor more than I fear death. I cannot tell what you and other men In awe of such a thing as I myself. I was born free as Cæsar; so were you: And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. I, as Æneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber Did I the tired Cæsar. And this man Is now become a god; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans A man of such a feeble temper should 55. Bru. Another general shout! I do believe, that these applauses are [Shout. Flourish. For some new honors that are heaped on Cæsar. 56. Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonorable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus and Cæsar: what should be in that Cæsar? [Shout. That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed: When there is in it but one only man. O! you and I have heard our fathers say, There was a Brutus once, that would have brooked 57. 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 Is like to lay upon us. 58. Cas. I am glad, that my weak words 60. Have struck but this much shew of fire from Brutus. Re-enter CESAR 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. Being crossed in conference by some senators. 62. Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is. Cæs. Antonius. Ant. Cæsar. 65. Cæs. Let me have men about me that are fat; Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. 66. Ant. Fear him not, Cæsar; he's not dangerous. He is a noble Roman, and well given. 67. 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 that spare Cassius. He reads much; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, I rather tell thee what is to be feared Than what I fear; for always I am Cæsar. Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. [Sennet. Exeunt CÆSAR and his Train. CASCA stays behind. Casca. You pulled me by the cloak: would you speak with me? 59. Bru. Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day, That Cæsar looks so sad. Casca. Why, you were with him, were you not? Bru. 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 a-shouting. Bru. What was the second noise for? Casca. Why, for that too. Cas. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? Bru. Was the crown offered him thrice? 78. 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 offered him the crown? Casca. Why, Antony. Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. 82. 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 |