Julius Caesar. Уильям Шекспир

      Cassi. I pray you do

         Brut. I am not Gamesom: I do lacke some part

      Of that quicke Spirit that is in Antony:

      Let me not hinder Cassius your desires;

      Ile leaue you

         Cassi. Brutus, I do obserue you now of late:

      I haue not from your eyes, that gentlenesse

      And shew of Loue, as I was wont to haue:

      You beare too stubborne, and too strange a hand

      Ouer your Friend, that loues you

         Bru. Cassius,

      Be not deceiu'd: If I haue veyl'd my looke,

      I turne the trouble of my Countenance

      Meerely vpon my selfe. Vexed I am

      Of late, with passions of some difference,

      Conceptions onely proper to my selfe,

      Which giue some soyle (perhaps) to my Behauiours:

      But let not therefore my good Friends be greeu'd

      (Among which number Cassius be you one)

      Nor construe any further my neglect,

      Then that poore Brutus with himselfe at warre,

      Forgets the shewes of Loue to other men

         Cassi. Then Brutus, I haue much mistook your passion,

      By meanes whereof, this Brest of mine hath buried

      Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations.

      Tell me good Brutus, Can you see your face?

        Brutus. No Cassius:

      For the eye sees not it selfe but by reflection,

      By some other things

         Cassius. 'Tis iust,

      And it is very much lamented Brutus,

      That you haue no such Mirrors, as will turne

      Your hidden worthinesse into your eye,

      That you might see your shadow:

      I haue heard,

      Where many of the best respect in Rome,

      (Except immortall Caesar) speaking of Brutus,

      And groaning vnderneath this Ages yoake,

      Haue wish'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes

         Bru. Into what dangers, would you

      Leade me Cassius?

      That you would haue me seeke into my selfe,

      For that which is not in me?

        Cas. Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to heare:

      And since you know, you cannot see your selfe

      So well as by Reflection; I your Glasse,

      Will modestly discouer to your selfe

      That of your selfe, which you yet know not of.

      And be not iealous on me, gentle Brutus:

      Were I a common Laughter, or did vse

      To stale with ordinary Oathes my loue

      To euery new Protester: if you know,

      That I do fawne on men, and hugge them hard,

      And after scandall them: Or if you know,

      That I professe my selfe in Banquetting

      To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.

      Flourish, and Shout.

        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