[Exeunt Caesar and his Train. Casca stays.]
You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanced today,
That Caesar looks so sad.
Why, you were with him, were you not?
I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.
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.
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 offer'd him thrice?
Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler
than other; and at every putting-by mine honest neighbors
Who offer'd him the crown?
Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
I can as well be hang'd, 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 shouted, and clapp'd
their chopt hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, 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.
But, soft! I pray you. What, did Caesar swoon?
He fell down in the market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was
'Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness.
No, Caesar hath it not; but you, and I,
And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness.
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.
What said he when he came unto himself?
Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common
herd was glad he refused the crown, he pluck'd 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
any thing 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 stabb'd their
mothers, they would have done no less.
And, after that he came, thus sad away?
Did Cicero say any thing?
Ay, he spoke Greek.
To what effect?
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 could remember it.
Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?
No, I am promised forth.
Will you dine with me tomorrow?
Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth
Good; I will expect you.
Do so; farewell both.
What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
He was quick mettle when he went to school.
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.
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.
I will do so: till then, think of the world. —
Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,
Thy honorable metal may be wrought,
From that it is disposed: therefore 'tis 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 humor 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.