Bru. What meanes this Showting? I do feare, the People choose Caesar For their King

Cassi. I, do you feare it? Then must I thinke you would not haue it so

Bru. I would not Cassius, yet I loue him well: But wherefore do you hold me heere so long? What is it, that you would impart to me? If it be ought toward the generall good, Set Honor in one eye, and Death i'th other, And I will looke on both indifferently: For let the Gods so speed mee, as I loue The name of Honor, more then I feare death

Cassi. I know that vertue to be in you Brutus, As well as I do know your outward fauour. Well, Honor is the subiect of my Story: I cannot tell, what you and other men Thinke of this life: But for my single selfe, I had as liefe not be, as liue to be In awe of such a Thing, as I my selfe. I was borne free as Caesar, so were you, We both haue fed as well, and we can both Endure the Winters cold, as well as hee. For once, vpon a Rawe and Gustie day, The troubled Tyber, chafing with her Shores, Caesar saide to me, Dar'st thou Cassius now Leape in with me into this angry Flood, And swim to yonder Point? Vpon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bad him follow: so indeed he did. The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it With lusty Sinewes, throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of Controuersie. But ere we could arriue the Point propos'd, Caesar cride, Helpe me Cassius, or I sinke. I (as Aeneas, our great Ancestor, Did from the Flames of Troy, vpon his shoulder The old Anchyses beare) so, from the waues of Tyber Did I the tyred Caesar: And this Man, Is now become a God, and Cassius is A wretched Creature, and must bend his body, If Caesar carelesly but nod on him. He had a Feauer when he was in Spaine, And when the Fit was on him, I did marke How he did shake: Tis true, this God did shake, His Coward lippes did from their colour flye, And that same Eye, whose bend doth awe the World, Did loose his Lustre: I did heare him grone: I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans Marke him, and write his Speeches in their Bookes, Alas, it cried, Giue me some drinke Titinius, As a sicke Girle: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the Maiesticke world, And beare the Palme alone.

Shout. Flourish.

Bru. Another generall shout? I do beleeue, that these applauses are For some new Honors, that are heap'd on Caesar

Cassi. Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walke vnder his huge legges, and peepe about To finde our selues dishonourable Graues. Men at sometime, are Masters of their Fates. The fault (deere Brutus) is not in our Starres, But in our Selues, that we are vnderlings. Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Caesar? Why should that name be sounded more then yours Write them together: Yours, is as faire a Name: Sound them, it doth become the mouth aswell: Weigh them, it is as heauy: Coniure with 'em, Brutus will start a Spirit as soone as Caesar. Now in the names of all the Gods at once, Vpon what meate doth this our Caesar feede, That he is growne so great? Age, thou art sham'd. Rome, thou hast lost the breed of Noble Bloods. When went there by an Age, since the great Flood, But it was fam'd with more then with one man? When could they say (till now) that talk'd of Rome, That her wide Walkes incompast but one man? Now is it Rome indeed, and Roome enough When there is in it but one onely man. O! you and I, haue heard our Fathers say, There was a Brutus once, that would haue brook'd Th' eternall Diuell to keepe his State in Rome, As easily as a King

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

All Pages of This Book
A Yorkshire Tragedy
The Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet
The Lamentable Tragedy of Locrine
The Tragedie of Anthonie and Cleopatra
The Tragedie of Coriolanus
The Tragedie of Cymbeline
The Tragedie of Hamlet
The Tragedie of Julius Caesar
The Tragedie of King Lear
The Tragedie of Macbeth
The Tragedie of Othello
The Tragedie of Richard the Third
The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus