The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

CASSIUS Will you go see the order of the course?

  BRUTUS Not I.

  CASSIUS I pray you, do.

  BRUTUS

  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.

  CASSIUS

  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.

  BRUTUS Cassius,

  Be not deceived. If I have veiled 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 grieved—

  Among which number, Cassius, be you one—

  Nor construe any further my neglect

  Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,

  Forgets the shows of love to other men.

  CASSIUS

  Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,

  By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

  Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

  Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

  BRUTUS

  No, Cassius, for the eye sees not itself

  But by reflection, by some other things.

  CASSIUS ’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 Caesar—speaking of Brutus,

  And groaning underneath this age’s yoke,

  Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes.

  BRUTUS

  Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,

  That you would have me seek into myself

  For that which is not in me?

  CASSIUS

  Therefor, good Brutus, be prepared 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 laughter, or did use

  To stale with ordinary oaths my love

  To every new protester; 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 within

  BRUTUS

  What means this shouting? I do fear the people

  Choose Caesar for their king.

  CASSIUS

  Ay, do you fear it?

  Then must I think you would not have it so.

  BRUTUS

  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’th’ 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.

  CASSIUS

  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 Caesar, 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 Tiber chafing with her shores,

  Said Caesar 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 plungèd in,

  And bade him follow. So indeed he did.

  The torrent roared, 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 proposed,

  Caesar cried ‘Help me, Cassius, or I sinkl’

  Ay, as Aeneas our great ancestor

  Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder

  The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber

  Did I the tired Caesar. And this man

  Is now become a god, and Cassius is

  A wretched creature, and must bend his body

  If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.

  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!

  Flourish and shout within

  BRUTUS Another general shout!

  I do believe that these applauses are

  For some new honours that are heaped on Caesar.

  CASSIUS

  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 sometime were masters of their fates.

  The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

  But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

  Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that ‘Caesar’?

  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 ‘em:

  ‘Brutus’ will start a spirit as soon as ‘Caesar’.

  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.

  Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods.

  When went there by an age since the great flood,

  But it was famed with more than with one man?

  When could they say till now, that talked of Rome,

  That her wide walls encompassed but one man?

  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 brooked

  Th’eternal devil to keep his state in Rome

  As easily as a king.

  BRUTUS

  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 w
ith love I might entreat you,

  Be any further moved. 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.

  CASSIUS I am glad

  That my weak words have struck but thus much show

  Of fire from Brutus.

  ⌈music.⌉ Enter Caesar and his train

  BRUTUS

  The games are done, and Caesar is returning.

  CASSIUS

  As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve,

  And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you

  What hath proceeded worthy note today.

  BRUTUS

  I will do so. 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 crossed in conference by some senators.

  CASSIUS

  Casca will tell us what the matter is.

  CAESAR Antonio.

  ANTONY Caesar.

  CAESAR

  Let me have men about me that are fat,

  Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights.

  Yon Cassius has a lean and hungry look.

  He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.

  ANTONY

  Fear him not, Caesar, he’s not dangerous.

  He is a noble Roman, and well given.

  CAESAR

  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 mocked himself, and scorned his spirit

  That could be moved to smile at anything.

  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 feared

  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.Sennet. Exeunt Caesar and his train. Brutus, Cassius, and Casca remain

  CASCA (to Brutus) You pulled me by the cloak. Would you speak with me?

  BRUTUS

  Ay, Casca. Tell us what hath chanced today,

  That Caesar looks so sad.

  CASCA Why, you were with him, were you not?

  BRUTUS

  I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.

  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.

  BRUTUS What was the second noise for?

  CASCA Why, for that too.

  CASSIUS

  They shouted thrice. What was the last cry for?

  CASCA Why, for that too.

  BRUTUS Was the crown offered 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.

  CASSIUS

  Who offered him the crown?

  CASCA Why, Antony.

  BRUTUS

  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 nightcaps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked Caesar; 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.

  CASSIUS

  But soft, I pray you. What, did Caesar swoon?

  CASCA He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless.

  BRUTUS

  ‘Tis very like: he hath the falling sickness.

  CASSIUS

  No, Caesar 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 Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did 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.

  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’th’ 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. Murellus and Flavius, for pulling scarves 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 tonight, Casca?

  CASCA No, I am promised forth.

  CASSIUS Will you dine with me tomorrow?

  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.

  Tomorrow, 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 mettle 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.

  I
f 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

  1.3 Thunder and lightning. Enter Casca, ⌈at one door, with his sword drawn,⌉ and Cicero ⌈at another⌉

  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

  Th‘ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam

  To be exalted with the threat’ning clouds;

  But never till tonight, 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 joined; and yet his hand,

  Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched.

  Besides—I ha’ not since put up my sword—

  Against the Capitol I met a lion

  Who glazed 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 noonday 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.

  Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?

  CASCA

  He doth, for he did bid Antonio

  Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.

  CICERO

  Good night then, Casca. This disturbed sky