Casca.
You pull'd me by the cloak, would you speak with me?

Bru.
Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanc'd 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 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 meer 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 loth 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 refus'd it, the rabblement houted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath, because Cæsar refus'd the crown, that it had almost choaked 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 swoon?

Casca.

He fell down in the market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechless.

Bru.
'Tis very like, he hath the falling-sickness.

Cas.
No, Cæsar 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 Cæsar fell down: If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd them, as they use 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 perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refus'd the crown, he pluckt me ope his doublet, and offer'd them his throat to cut: If 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 desir'd their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches where I stood, cry'd, 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, if I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i'th' face again. But those that understood him, smil'd at one another, and shook their heads; but for mine own part it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Murellus 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?

Casca.

No, I am promis'd forth.

Cas.

Will you dine with me to-morrow?

Casca.

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

Cas.

Good, I will expect you.

Casca.

Do so: farewel both.

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 enterprize,
However he puts on this tardy form:
This rudeness is a sawce to his good wit,
Which gives men stomach to digest his words
With better appetites.

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.

Cas.
I will do so: 'till then, think of the world. [Exit Brutus.

Well Brutus, thou art noble: yet I see
Thy honourable mettle 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. [Exit.

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