Julius Caesar. Уильям Шекспир

Julius Caesar - Уильям Шекспир


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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

         Bru. That you do loue me, I am nothing iealous:

      What you would worke me too, I haue some ayme:

      How I haue thought of this, and of these times

      I shall recount heereafter. For this present,

      I would not so (with loue I might intreat you)

      Be any further moou'd: What you haue said,

      I will consider: what you haue to say

      I will with patience heare, and finde a time

      Both meete to heare, and answer such high things.

      Till then, my Noble Friend, chew vpon this:

      Brutus had rather be a Villager,

      Then to repute himselfe a Sonne of Rome

      Vnder these hard Conditions, as this time

      Is like to lay vpon vs

         Cassi. I am glad that my weake words

      Haue strucke but thus much shew of fire from Brutus,

      Enter Caesar and his Traine.

        Bru. The Games are done,

      And Caesar is returning

         Cassi. As they passe by,

      Plucke Caska by the Sleeue,

      And he will (after his sowre fashion) tell you

      What hath proceeded worthy note to day

         Bru. I will do so: but looke you Cassius,

      The angry spot doth glow on Caesars brow,

      And all the rest, looke like a chidden Traine;

      Calphurnia's Cheeke is pale, and Cicero

      Lookes with such Ferret, and such fiery eyes

      As we haue seene him in the Capitoll

      Being crost in Conference, by some Senators

      Cassi. Caska will tell vs what the matter is

      Caes Antonio

      Ant. Caesar

         Caes Let me haue men about me, that are fat,

      Sleeke-headed men, and such as sleepe a-nights:

      Yond Cassius has a leane and hungry looke,

      He thinkes too much: such men are dangerous

         Ant. Feare him not Caesar, he's not dangerous,

      He is a Noble Roman, and well giuen

         Caes Would he were fatter; But I feare him not:

      Yet if my name were lyable to feare,

      I do not know the man I should auoyd

      So soone as that spare Cassius. He reades much,

      He is a great Obseruer, and he lookes

      Quite through the Deeds of men. He loues no Playes,

      As thou dost Antony: he heares no Musicke;

      Seldome he smiles, and smiles in such a sort

      As if he mock'd himselfe, and scorn'd his spirit

      That could be mou'd to smile at any thing.

      Such men as he, be neuer at hearts ease,

      Whiles they behold a greater then themselues,

      And therefore are they very dangerous.

      I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,

      Then what I feare: for alwayes I am Caesar.

      Come on my right hand, for this eare is deafe,

      And tell me truely, what thou think'st of him.

      Sennit.

      Exeunt. Caesar and his Traine.

        Cask. You pul'd me by the cloake, would you speake

      with me?

        Bru. I Caska, tell vs what hath chanc'd to day

      That Caesar lookes so sad

         Cask. Why you were with him, were you not?

        Bru. I should not then aske Caska what had chanc'd

      Cask. Why there was a Crowne offer'd him; & being offer'd him, he put it by with the backe of his hand thus, and then the people fell a shouting

         Bru. What was the second noyse for?

        Cask. Why for that too

         Cassi. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?

        Cask. Why for that too

         Bru. Was the Crowne offer'd him thrice?

        Cask. I marry was't, and hee put it by thrice, euerie

      time gentler then other; and at euery putting by, mine

      honest Neighbors showted

         Cassi. Who offer'd him the Crowne?

        Cask. Why Antony

      Bru. Tell vs the manner of it, gentle Caska

      Caska. I can as well bee hang'd as tell the manner of it: It was meere Foolerie, I did not marke it. I sawe Marke Antony offer him a Crowne, yet 'twas not a Crowne neyther, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I told you, hee put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking, he would faine haue had it. Then hee offered it to him againe: then hee put it by againe: but to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by, and still as hee refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw vppe their sweatie Night-cappes, and vttered such a deale of stinking breath, because Caesar refus'd the Crowne, that it had (almost) choaked Caesar: for hee swoonded, and fell downe at it: And for mine owne part, I durst not laugh, for feare of opening my Lippes, and receyuing the bad Ayre

         Cassi.


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