O, no more, no more!

You have said, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but that
Which you deny already: Yet we will ask;
That, if you fail in our request, the blame
May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.
Cor. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your request?
Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment,
And state of bodies, would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself,
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which
should
[forts,
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with com-
Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and sor-
Making the mother, wife, and child, to see [row;
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we,
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy: For how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound; together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles through our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's rain;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune, till
These wars determine if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country, than to tread
(Trust to't, thou shalt not), on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.
Vir.

Ay, and on mine, That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name Living to time. Boy. I'll run away, till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be, Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. I have sat too long.

He shall not tread on me;

Vol.

[Rising.

Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so, that our request did tend To save the Romans, thereby to destroy The Volces whom you serve, you might condemn us, As poisonous of your honour: No; our suit Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces May say, This mercy have show'd; the Romans, This we receiv'd; and each in either side

Whose chronicle thus writ -The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wip'd it out;
Destroy'd his country; and his name remains
To the ensuing age, abhorr'd. Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs -Daughter, speak you;
He cares not for your weeping.-Speak thou, boy;
Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons.-There is no man in the world
More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate,
Like one i'the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy ;
When she, (poor hen !) fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: But, if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs. He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than pity to our prayers. Down; an end:
This is the last;-So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.-Nay, behold us :
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny 't.-Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corieli, and his child
Like him by chance:-Yet give us our despatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afire,
And then I'll speak a little.
Cor.

O mother, mother!

[Holding Volumnia by the Hands, silent. What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope. The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome : But, for your son,-believe it, O, helieve it, Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most mortal to him. But, let it come :Autidius, though I cannot make true wars, I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard. A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? Auf. I was mov'd withal. Cor.

I dare be sworn, you were: And, sir, it is no little thing, to make

Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, What peace you'll make, advise me: For my part, I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, Stand to me in this cause.-O mother! wife!

Auf. I am glad, thou hast set thy mercy and thy honour

At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune.

Cor.

[Aside. [The Ladies make Signs to Coriolanus. Ay, by and by [To Volumnia, Virgilia, &c. But we will drink together; and you shall bear A better witness back than words, which we, On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve To have a temple built you: all the swords In Italy, and her confederate arms Could not have made this peace.

[Exeunt.

Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But, I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenc'd, and stay upon execution.

Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of man?

Men. There is differency between a grub, and a

Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd

The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,

cius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.

Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers

his mother now, than an eight year old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house: The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune, And hale him up and down; all swearing, if The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, They'll give him death by inches.

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain ?
Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,
As the recomforted through the gates. Why, bark you;
[Trampets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums
beaten, all together. Shouting also within..
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and tifes,
Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans,
Make the sun dance. Hark you! [Shouting again.
Men.
This is good news:
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full: You have pray'd well to-day;
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and Music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tidings:
Accept my thankfulness.
[next,
Mess.
Sir, we have all
Great cause to give great thanks.
They are near the city.
Mess. Almost at point to enter.
Sic.

Sic.

And help the joy.

We will meet them, [Going.

[A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets. Exeunt.

SCENE V. Antium. A public Place. Enter Tallus Aufidius, with Attendants. Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here: Deliver them this paper: having read it, Bid them repair to the market-place; where I, Even in theirs, and in the commons' ears, Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse, The city ports by this hath enter'd, and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: Despatch. [Exeunt Attendants.

Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius' Faction. Most welcome!

1 Con. How is it with our general ? Auf.

Even so,

As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, And with his charity slain.

Most noble sir,

2 Con.
If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.
Auf.
Sir, I cannot tell;
We must proceed, as we do find the people,
3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst
Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
Auf.
I know it;
And my pretext to strike at him, admits
A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: Who being so heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,
Auf.
That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.

1 Con.
So he did, my lord:
The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last,
When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd
For no less spoil, than glory,

Auf.

There was it ;For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. At a few drops of womens' rheum, which are As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour Of our great action; Therefore shall be die, And I'll renew me in his fall. But hark!

[Drums and Trumpets sound, with great Shouts of the People.

1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise.

2 Con. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear, With giving him glory.

3 Con.

Therefore, at your vantage, Ere he express himself, or move the people With what he would say, let him feel your sword, Which we will second. When he lies along, After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury His reasons with his body. Auf. Say no more; Here come the lords.

Enter the Lords of the City. Lords. You are most welcome home. Auf. I have not deserv'd it. But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd What I have written to yon?

Lords.

We have.

1 Lord.
And grieve to hear it.
What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found easy fines: but there to end,
Where he was to begin; and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge; making a treaty, where
There was a yielding; This admits no excuse.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.
Enter Coriolanus, with Drums and Colours; a
Crowd of Citizens with him,
Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier ;
No more infected with my country's love,
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage, led your wars, even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home,
Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates,

Than shame to the Romans: And we here deliver,
Subscrib'd by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o'the senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf.

Read it not, noble lords;

But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.

Cor. Traitor -How now ?—
Auf.
Cor.

Ay, traitor, Marcius.

Marcius? Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name Coriolanus in Corioli ?-

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome
(I say, your city), to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
Counsel o'the war; but at his nurse's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.

Cor.

Hear'st thou, Mars? Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,Cor.

Auf. No more.

Ha!

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave !Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever

I was fore'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,

Must give this cur the lie and his own notion
(Who wears my stripes impress'd on him; that must
bear

My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust
The lie unto him.

1 Lord.
Peace, both, and hear me speak.
Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces; men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False hound!
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Flutter'd your voices in Corioli:

Alone I did it.-Boy!

Auf.

Why, noble lords,

Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears?

Con. Let him die for't. [Several speak at once. Cit. [Speaking promiscuously] Tear him to pieces, do it presently." He kill'd my son ;-my daughter;

Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak.

1 Lord.

O Tullus,2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.

3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords.

Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage Provok'd by him, you cannot), the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice, That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your senate, I'll deliver Myself your loyal servant, or endure Your heaviest censure.

1 Lord. Bear from hence his body, And mourn you for him: let him be regarded As the most noble corse, that ever herald Did follow to his urn.

2 Lord.

His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Let's make the best of it.

Auf. My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow.-Take him up :Help, three o'the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: Trail your steel pikes.-Though in this city he Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory.Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the Body of Coriolanus. A dead March sounded.

Triumvirs after the death of
Julius Cæsar.

Cicero, Publius, Pepilius Lena, Senators.

Marcus Brutus,

Cassius,

Cinna,

Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Rome. A Street.

Enter Flavius, Marullus, and a Rabble of Citizens.

[bome;

Flav. HENCE; home, you idle creatures, get you Is this a holiday? What know you not, Being mechanical, you ought not walk, Upon a labouring day, without the sign

Of your profession -Speak, what trade art thou? 1 Cie. Why, sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? What dost thou with thy best apparel on 1You, sir; what trade are you?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler.

Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.

2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soals.

Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?

2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neatsleather, have gone upon my handiwork.

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

2 Cit. Truly sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings What tributaries follow him to Rome, [he home? To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!

O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome :
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shont,
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in her concave shores ?

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone;

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.

Flav. Go, go, good country-men, and for this fault,
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt Citizens.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I Disrobe the images,

If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
Mar. May we do so?

You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.
Flav. It is no matter; let no images

Be hang with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch;
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

[Exeunt.

March.

Cresar. Ces. What say'st thou to me now? Sooth. Beware the ides of March.

Caes. He is a dreamer; let us leave him ;-pass. [Sennet. Exeunt all but Bru. and Cas. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course?

Bru. Not I.

Cas. I pray you, do.

Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; I'll leave you.

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness, And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you.

Bru.

Cassins,
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,

Of late, with passions of sone 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);
Nor construe any further my neglect,

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

[sion;

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your pas-
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried.
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 :

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
(Except immortal Cesar), 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
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

That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous of 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
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.

[Flourish and shout.
Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the
Choose Cæsar for their king.
[people
Cas.
Ay, do you fear it?"
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?

If it be aught toward the general good,
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,
I bad as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.

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.
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,
Accoutr'd as I was, 1 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.
Bat ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæsar cry'd, Help me, Cassius, or I sink.
I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder

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,

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:
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."

Bru. Another general shout!

[Shout. Flourish.

I do believe, that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap'd on Cesar.
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.

[Shout.

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 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 ;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure them,
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,
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,
That her wide walks 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.

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,
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
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.

Cas. I am glad, that my weak words.

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 mov'd to smile at any thing.
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 Cæsar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.

[Exeunt Cæsar and his Train. Casca stays
behind.

Casca. You pull'd me by the cloak; Would you speak with me?

Bru. Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chane'd to-day, That Cæsar looks so sad.

Casca. Why, you were with him, were you not? Bru. I should not then ask Casca what hath

chanc'd.

Casca. Why, there was a crown offer'd him and being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; and then the people fell a shouting. Bru. What was the second noise for! Casca. Why, for that too.

Cas. They shou ́ed thrice; What was the last cry for?

Casca. Why, for that too.

Bru. Was the crown offer'd him thrice?

Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than the other; and at every putting by, mine honest neighbours shouted. Cas. Who offered him the crown? Casca. Why, Autony.

Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. Casca. I can as well be hanged, 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 stili as he refused it, the rabblement hooted, and clapped their chopped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath, because Cæsar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; 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.

Cas. But, soft, I pray you: What? did Cæsar swoon?

Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless.

Bru. 'Tis very like he hath the falling-sickness. Cas. No, Cæsar hath it not; but you, and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness. Casca. I know not what you mean by that; bat, I am sure, Cæsar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he

Re-enter Cæsar and his Train.

Bru. The games are done, and Cæsar is returning.
Cs. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve;
And he will, after his soar fashion, tell you
What hath proceeded, worthy note, to-day.

Bru. will do so:-But, look you, Cassius,
The angry spot doth glow on Casar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train:
Calphurnia'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.
Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is.
Caes. Antonius.

Ant. Cæsar.

Cas. 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. Ant. Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous; He is a noble Roman, and well given.

Caes. '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

players in the theatre, I am no true man.

Bru. What said he, when he came unto himself?

Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked 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 Cæsar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. Bru. And after that, he came, thus sad, away? Casca. Ay.

Cas. Did Cicero say any thing?

Casca. Ay, he spoke Greek.

Cas. To what effect?