Cas.
Cas.
Will you go see the order of the course?
Bru.
Not I.
Cas.
I pray you, do.
Bru.
I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
I'll leave you.
Cas.
Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness,
And show of love, as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.
Bru.
Cassius,
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
Of late with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviours;
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
(Among which number, Cassius, be you one)
Nor construe any farther my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.
Cas.
Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
-- 12 --
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru.
No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection, by some other things.
Cas.
'Tis just;
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors, as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cæsar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd 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 prepar'd 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.
And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laugher6 note, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester7 note; if you know
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or if you know
That I profess myself, in banqueting,
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish, and Shout.
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.
-- 13 --
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?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other,
And I will look on both indifferently;
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.
Cas.
I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.—
I cannot tell what you and other men
Think of this life; but for my single self
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæsar, so were you;
We both have fed as well, and we can both
Endure the winter's cold as well as he:
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tyber chafing with her shores,
Cæsar said to me, “Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?”—Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did.
The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews, throwing it aside,
And stemming it, with hearts of controversy;
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæsar cried, “Help me, Cassius, or I sink.”
I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tyber
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.
-- 14 --
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:
His coward lips did from their colour fly;
And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world,
Did lose his lustre. I did hear him groan;
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
Alas! it cried, “Give me some drink, Titinius,”
As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.
[Shout. Flourish.
Bru.
Another general shout!
I do believe, that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar.
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 dishonourable 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?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with them,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd:
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, since the great flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walks encompass'd but one man? 11Q0964
-- 15 --
Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough,
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 brook'd
Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome,
As easily as a king.
Bru.
That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have some aim;
How I have thought of this, and of these times,
I shall recount hereafter: for this present,
I would not, so with love I might entreat you,
Be any farther mov'd. What you have said,
I will consider; what you have to say,
I will with patience hear, and find a time
Both meet to hear, and answer, such high things.
Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this:
Brutus had rather be a villager,
Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under these hard conditions, as this time
Is like to lay upon us. 11Q0965
Cas.
I am glad, that my weak words
Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.
Bru.
The games are done, and Cæsar is returning.
Re-enter Cæsar, and his Train.
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.
Bru.
I will do so.—But, look you, Cassius;
The angry spot doth glow on Cæsar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train.
Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero
Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes,
As we have seen him in the Capitol,
Being cross'd in conference by some senators.
Cas.
Casca will tell us what the matter is.
Cæs.
Antonius!
-- 16 --
Ant.
Cæsar.
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.
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 that spare Cassius. He reads much;
He is a great observer, and he looks
Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,
As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music:
Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort,
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit
That could be mov'd to smile at any thing.
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 Cæsar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.
[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 to-day,
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 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?
-- 17 --
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 offered him the crown?
Casca.
Why, Antony.
Bru.
Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
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 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 chapped hands, and
threw up their sweaty night-caps, 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 swoon?
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 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 people8 note
did
-- 18 --
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.
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 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 stabbed 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' 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?
Casca.
No, I am promised forth.
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.
Casca.
Do so. Farewell, both.
[Exit Casca.
-- 19 --
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 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, 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 metal9 note
may be wrought
From that 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.
-- 20 --
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
