Julius Caesar

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 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 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 I could remember it. Cassius Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? Casca No, I am promised forth. Cassius Will you dine with me to-morrow? 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:
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.

Cassius

I will do so: till then, think of the world. Exit Brutus.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,
Thy honourable metal 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 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
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

The same. 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 to-night, 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 glared 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 noon-day upon the market-place, Hooting 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. Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow?
Casca	He doth; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you he would be there to-morrow.
Cicero	Good night 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 thunder-stone; 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 fool and children calculate, Why all these things change from their ordinance Their natures and preformed faculties To monstrous quality⁠—why, you