Cassius,

Bru.

Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
40 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 griev'd—
Among which number, Cassius, be you one-
45 Nor construe any further my neglect

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion:

By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

50 Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

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

Bru. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself But by reflection, by some other things.

Cas. 'Tis just:

55 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,
60 Except immortal Cæsar, speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,

Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself

65 For that which is not in me?

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear; And since you know you cannot see yourself

So well as by reflection, I your glass

Will modestly discover to yourself

70 That of yourself which you yet know not of.

And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laugher, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love

To every new protester; if you know

75 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.

Bru. What means this shouting? 80 Choose Cæsar for their king.

[Flourish and shout.

I do fear, the people

Ay, do you fear it?

Cas.
Then must I think you would not have it so.

Bru. 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?

85 If it be aught toward the general good,

90

Set honour in one eye and death i' the 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.

Cas. 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,

95 I had as lief not be as live to be

In awe of such a thing as I myself.

I was born free as Cæsar; so were you:
We both have fed as well, and we can both
Endure the winter's cold as well as he.

100 For once, upon a raw and gusty day,

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
Cæsar said to me, "Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,

And swim to yonder point?" Upon the word, 105 Accoutred as I was, I plunged in

And bade him follow: so indeed he did.

The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews, throwing it aside

And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
110 But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæsar cried, "Help me, Cassius, or I sink!"
I, as Æneas our great ancestor

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber

115 Did I the tired Cæsar. And this man

Is now become a god; and Cassius is

A wretched creature, and must bend his body
If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.

He had a fever when he was in Spain,

120 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 :

125 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

130 So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.

135

Bru. Another general shout!

I do believe that these applauses are

[Shout. Flourish

For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar.
Cas. 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 some time are masters of their fates: 140 The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Brutus, and Cæsar: what should be in that Cæsar? Why should that name be sounded more than yours? Write them together, yours is as fair a name; 145 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 "Cæsar." Now, in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, 150 That he is grown 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 than with one man? When could they say till now that talk'd of Rome 155 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 160 The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome As easily as a king.

Bru. 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,
165 I shall recount hereafter; for this present,

I would not, so with love I might entreat you,
Be any further mov'd. What you have said
I will consider; what you have to say

I will with patience hear, and find a time
170 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

"Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights."