JULIUS CAESAR. William Shakespeare

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JULIUS CAESAR - William Shakespeare

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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 them,

       “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 talk’d of Rome,

       That her wide walls encompass’d 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 brook’d

       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 with 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.

       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.

       [Re-enter Caesar and his Train.]

       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 cross’d in conference by some senators.

       CASSIUS.

       Casca will tell us what the matter is.

       CAESAR.

       Antonius,—

       ANTONY.

       Caesar?

       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.

       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 mock’d himself and scorn’d his spirit

       That could be moved 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 Caesar.

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

       And tell me truly what thou think’st of him.

       [Exeunt Caesar and his Train. Casca stays.]

       CASCA.

       You pull’d 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

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