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 color fly,
    And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world
    Did lose his luster. 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. Shout. Flourish.
  BRUTUS. Another general shout!
    I do believe that these applauses are
    For some new honors that are heap'd 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 dishonorable graves.
    Men at some time are 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 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
    The 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.

Re-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 cross'd 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 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 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 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.
              Sennet. Exeunt Caesar and all his Train but Casca.
  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 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 ashouting.
  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, wast, and he put it by thrice, every time
gentler
    than other, and at every putting by mine honest neighbors
    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 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 hooted and clapped their chopped
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 swounded 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 Caesars wound?
  CASCA. He fell down in the marketplace and foamed at mouth and
was
    speechless.
  BRUTUS. 'Tis very like. He hath the falling sickness.
  CASSIUS. No, Caesar hath