Julius Caesar Page #2

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Now, in the names of all the gods at once,

upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,

that he is grown so great?

Age, thou art shamed!

When went there by an age,

since the great flood, when could they say till now,

that talk'd of Rome,

that her wide walls encompass'd but one man?

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.

I am glad that my weak words

Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.

But, look you, Cassius, the angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,

and all the rest look like a chidden train:

Calpurnia'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

- Antonius!

- Caesar?

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.

Casca will tell us what the matter is.

He's not dangerous;

he is a noble Roman and well given.

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.

Such men as he be never at heart's ease whiles they behold a greater than themselves,

and therefore is he very dangerous.

I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd than what I fear;

for always I am Caesar.

Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,

and tell me truly what thou think'st of him.

Casca!

- Would you speak with me?

- Ay, Casca.

tell us what hath chanced today, that Caesar looks so sad.

Why, there was a crown offered him.

and being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand,

thus.

What was the second noise for?

Why, for that too.

They shouted thrice.

What was the last cry for?

Why, for that too.

Was the crown offered him thrice?

Ay, marry, was't,

and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other,

and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours shouted.

- Who offered him the crown?

- Why, Antony.

Tell us the manner of it, gentle 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.

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