Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone;
And when the cross blue lightning seemed to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
Even in the aim and very flash of it.
CASCA
But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens?
It is the part of men to fear and tremble
When the most mighty gods by tokens send
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
CASSIUS
You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life
That should be in a Roman you do want,
Or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze,
And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder,
To see the strange impatience of the heavens;
But if you would consider the true cause
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
Why birds and beasts from quality and kind–
Why old men, fools, and children calculate—
Why all these things change from their ordinance,
Their natures, and preformed faculties,
To monstrous quality—why, you shall find
That heaven hath infused them with these spirits
To make them instruments of fear and warning
Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca,
Name to thee a man most like this dreadful night,
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
As doth the lion in the Capitol;
A man no mightier than thyself or me
In personal action, yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
CASCA
‘Tis Caesar that you mean, is it not, Cassius?
CASSIUS
Let it be who it is; for Romans now
Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors.
But woe the while! Our fathers’ minds are dead,
And we are governed with our mothers’ spirits.
Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.
CASCA
Indeed they say the senators tomorrow
Mean to establish Caesar as a king,
And he shall wear his crown by sea and land
In every place save here in Italy.
CASSIUS (drawing his dagger)
I know where I will wear this dagger then:
Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius.
Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat.
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
If I know this, know all the world besides,
That part of tyranny that I do bear
I can shake off at pleasure.
Thunder still
CASCA So can I.
So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.
CASSIUS
And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?
Poor man, I know he would not be a wolf
But that he sees the Romans are but sheep.
He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
Those that with haste will make a mighty fire
Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome,
What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves
For the base matter to illuminate
So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief,
Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this
Before a willing bondman; then I know
My answer must be made. But I am armed,
And dangers are to me indifferent.
CASCA
You speak to Casca, and to such a man
That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold. My hand.
Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
And I will set this foot of mine as far
As who goes farthest.
They join hands
CASSIUS There’s a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have moved already
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
To undergo with me an enterprise
Of honourable-dangerous consequence.
And I do know by this they stay for me
In Pompey’s Porch; for now, this fearful night,
There is no stir or walking in the streets,
And the complexion of the element
In favour’s like the work we have in hand,
Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
Enter Cinna
CASCA
Stand close a while, for here comes one in haste.
CASSIUS
‘Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait.
He is a friend.—Cinna, where haste you so?
CINNA
To find out you. Who’s that? Metellus Cimber?
CASSIUS
No, it is Casca, one incorporate
To our attempts. Am I not stayed for, Cinna?
CINNA
I am glad on’t. What a fearful night is this!
There’s two or three of us have seen strange sights.
CASSIUS Am I not stayed for? Tell me.
CINNA Yes, you are.
O Cassius, if you could
But win the noble Brutus to our party—
CASSIUS
Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper,
He gives Cinna letters
And look you lay it in the Praetor’s Chair,
Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
In at his window. Set this up with wax
Upon old Brutus’ statue. All this done,
Repair to Pompey’s Porch where you shall find us.
Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?