And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus : [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. 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 gusty2 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. Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 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: Brutus, and Cæsar: What should be in that Cæsar? (1) Temperament, constitution. Why should that name be sounded more than yours? O! you and I have heard our fathers say, Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; Than to repute himself a son of Rome Is like to lay upon us. Cas. I am glad, that my weak words Have struck but this much show of fire from Brutus. Re-enter Cæsar, and his train. Bru. The games are done, and Cæsar is returning. (1) Lucius Junius Brutus. (3) Ruminate. (2) Guess. Cas. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; Being cross'd in conference by some senators. Cæs. Let me have men about me that are fat; 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; Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, behind. (1) A ferret has red eyes. 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 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 the 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 refus'd it, the rabblement hooted, and clapped their chopped 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. |