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But soft I pray you: what, did Caesar swound?

        Cask. He fell downe in the Market-place, and foam'd

      at mouth, and was speechlesse

      Brut. 'Tis very like he hath the Falling sicknesse

         Cassi. No, Caesar hath it not: but you, and I,

      And honest Caska, we haue the Falling sicknesse

      Cask. I know not what you meane by that, but I am sure Caesar fell downe. If the tag-ragge people did not clap him, and hisse him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd them, as they vse to doe the Players in the Theatre, I am no true man

      Brut. What said he, when he came vnto himselfe? Cask. Marry, before he fell downe, when he perceiu'd the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crowne, he pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat to cut: and I had beene a man of any Occupation, if I would not haue taken him at a word, I would I might goe to Hell among the Rogues, and so hee fell. When he came to himselfe againe, hee said, If hee had done, or said any thing amisse, he desir'd their Worships to thinke it was his infirmitie. Three or foure Wenches where I stood, cryed, Alasse good Soule, and forgaue him with all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had stab'd their Mothers, they would haue done no lesse

      Brut. And after that, he came thus sad away

      Cask. I

         Cassi. Did Cicero say any thing?

        Cask. I, he spoke Greeke

      Cassi. To what effect? Cask. Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're looke you i'th' face againe. But those that vnderstood him, smil'd at one another, and shooke their heads: but for mine owne part, it was Greeke to me. I could tell you more newes too: Murrellus and Flauius, for pulling Scarffes off Caesars Images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more Foolerie yet, if I could remember it

         Cassi. Will you suppe with me to Night, Caska?

        Cask. No, I am promis'd forth

         Cassi. Will you Dine with me to morrow?

        Cask. I, if I be aliue, and your minde hold, and your

      Dinner worth the eating

      Cassi. Good, I will expect you

         Cask. Doe so: farewell both.

      Enter.

        Brut. What a blunt fellow is this growne to be?

      He was quick Mettle, when he went to Schoole

         Cassi. So is he now, in execution

      Of any bold, or Noble Enterprize,

      How-euer he puts on this tardie forme:

      This Rudenesse is a Sawce to his good Wit,

      Which giues men stomacke to disgest his words

      With better Appetite

         Brut. And so it is:

      For this time I will leaue you:

      To morrow, if you please to speake with me,

      I will come home to you: or if you will,

      Come home to me, and I will wait for you

         Cassi. I will doe so: till then, thinke of the World.

      Exit Brutus.

      Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I see,

      Thy Honorable Mettle may be wrought

      From that it is dispos'd: therefore it is meet,

      That Noble mindes keepe euer with their likes:

      For who so firme, that cannot be seduc'd?

      Caesar doth beare me hard, but he loues Brutus.

      If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius,

      He should not humor me. I will this Night,

      In seuerall Hands, in at his Windowes throw,

      As if they came from seuerall Citizens,

      Writings, all tending to the great opinion

      That Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurely

      Caesars Ambition shall be glanced at.

      And after this, let Caesar seat him sure,

      For wee will shake him, or worse dayes endure.

      Enter.

      Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Cicero.

        Cic. Good euen, Caska: brought you Caesar home?

      Why are you breathlesse, and why stare you so?

        Cask. Are not you mou'd, when all the sway of Earth

      Shakes, like a thing vnfirme? O Cicero,

      I haue seene Tempests, when the scolding Winds

      Haue riu'd the knottie Oakes, and I haue seene

      Th' ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foame,

      To be exalted with the threatning Clouds:

      But neuer till to Night, neuer till now,

      Did I goe through a Tempest-dropping-fire.

      Eyther there is a Ciuill strife in Heauen,

      Or else the World, too sawcie with the Gods,

      Incenses them to send destruction

         Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderfull?

        Cask. A common slaue, you know him well by sight,

      Held vp his left Hand, which did flame and burne

      Like twentie Torches ioyn'd; and yet his Hand,

      Not sensible of fire, remain'd vnscorch'd.

      Besides, I ha' not since put vp my Sword,

      Against the Capitoll I met a Lyon,

      Who glaz'd vpon me, and went surly by,

      Without annoying me. And there were drawne

      Vpon a heape, a hundred gastly Women,

      Transformed with their feare, who swore, they saw

      Men, all in fire, walke vp and downe the streetes.

      And yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit,

      Euen at Noone-day, vpon the Market place,

      Howting, and shreeking. When these Prodigies

      Doe so conioyntly meet, let not men say,

      These are their Reasons, they are Naturall:

      For I beleeue, they are portentous things

      Vnto the Clymate, that they point vpon

         Cic. Indeed, it is a strange disposed time:

      But men may construe things after their fashion,

      Cleane from the purpose of the things themselues.

      Comes Caesar to the Capitoll to morrow?

        Cask. He doth: for he did bid Antonio

      Send word to you, he would be there to morrow

         Cic. Good-night then, Caska:

      This disturbed Skie is not to walke in

      Cask. Farewell Cicero.

      Exit Cicero.

      Enter Cassius.

        Cassi. Who's there?

        Cask. A Romane

      Cassi.

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