ACT I, SCENE 2
As the commoners start to leave, a group of senators, including Cassius and Brutus, enter the scene. Cassius approaches Brutus and begins to talk to him about his concerns regarding Caesar’s growing power and ambition. He tells Brutus that Caesar is not fit to be king and that he fears for the future of Rome if he continues to gain more power.
Brutus is hesitant to listen to Cassius, but he agrees to meet with him again and discuss the matter further. The scene ends with the senators leaving the public place, leaving the audience with a sense of tension and uncertainty about what will happen next.
Rome, a public place.
[Flourish. Enter CAESAR, ANTONY, (for the course) CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer; after them, MARULLUS and FLAVIUS]
Casca: Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.
Calpurnia: Here, my lord.
Caesar: Stand you directly in Antonius’ way
When he doth run his course. Antonius.
Antony: Caesar, my lord?
Caesar : Forget not in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse.
Antony: I shall remember
When Caesar says ‘Do this,’ it is performed.
Caesar: Set on, and leave no ceremony out.
Caesar: Ha! Who calls?
Casca: Bid every noise be still. Peace yet again!
Caesar: Who is it in the press that calls on me?
I hear a tongue shriller than all the music
Cry ‘Caesar!’ Speak. Caesar is turned to hear.
Soothsayer: Beware the ides of March.
Caesar: What man is that?
Brutus: A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.
Caesar: Set him before me; let me see his face.
Cassius: Fellow, come from the throng;
look upon Caesar.
Caesar: What say’st thou to me now?
Speak once again.
Soothsayer: Beware the ides of March.
Caesar: He is a dreamer. Let us leave him. Pass.
[Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS.]
Cassius: Will you go see the order of the course?
Brutus: Not I.
Cassius: I pray you do.
Brutus: 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.
Cassius: 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.
Brutus: Cassius, Be not deceived.
If I have veiled my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
Of late with passions of some difference, Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviours; But let not therefore my good friends be grieved (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.
Cassius: Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;
By means wherof this breast 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 itself
But by reflection, by some other things.
Cassius: ’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 Caesar), speaking of Brutus, And groaning underneath this age’s yoke,
Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Brutus: Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?
Cassius: Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared 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 on me, gentle Brutus.
Were I a common laughter, 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.]
Brutus: What means this shouting?
I do fear the people
Choose Caesar for their king.
Cassius: Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.
Brutus: 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 he aught toward the general good, Set honour in one eye and death i’ th’ 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.
Cassius: 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 had as lief not be as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Caesar; 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,
Caesar said to me, “Darest thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood
And swim to yonder point?” Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I 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;
But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
Caesar cried, “Help me, Cassius, or I sink!
I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber
Did I the tired Caesar: and this man
Is now become a god; and Cassius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body,
If Caesar 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 luster. 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.
Brutus: Another general shout!
I do believe that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap’d on Caesar.
Cassius: 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.
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 “Caesar”: what should be in that “Caesar”?
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 with them,
“Brutus” will start a spirit as soon as “Caesar.”
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
When went there by an age since the great flood,
But it was famed with more than with one man?
When could they say, till now, that talk’d of Rome,
That her wide walls 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
Th’ eternal devil to keep his state in Rome,
As easily as a king!
Brutus: 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 moved. 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.
Cassius: I am glad that my weak words
Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.
Brutus: The games are done, and Caesar is returning.
Cassius: As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve;
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
What hath proceeded worthy note today.
[Re-enter Caesar and his Train.]
Brutus: I will do so.—But, look you, Cassius,
The angry spot doth glow on Caesar’s brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train:
Calpurnia’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.
Cassius: Casca will tell us what the matter is.
Caesar: 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.
Antony: Fear him not, Caesar; he’s not dangerous;
He is a noble Roman and well given.
Caesar: 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
Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,
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 moved 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 Caesar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly what thou think’st of him.
[Exeunt Caesar and his Train. Casca stays.]
Casca: You pull’d me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
Brutus: Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanced today,
That Caesar looks so sad.
Casca: Why, you were with him, were you not?
Brutus: I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.
Casca: Why, there was a crown offer’d him; and being offer’d him,
he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; and then the
people fell a-shouting.
Brutus: What was the second noise for?
Casca: Why, for that too.
Cassius: They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?
Casca: Why, for that too.
Brutus: Was the crown offer’d him thrice?
Casca: Ay, marry, was’t, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours
Cassius: Who offer’d him the crown?
Casca: Why, Antony.
Brutus: Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
Casca: I can as well be hang’d, 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 still, as he refused it, the rabblement shouted, and clapp’d their chopt hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Caesar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Caesar, 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.
Cassius: But, soft! I pray you. What, did Caesar swoon?
Casca: He fell down in the market-place, and foam’d at mouth, and was
Brutus: ‘Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness.
Cassius: No, Caesar hath it not; but you, and I,
And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness.
Casca: I know not what you mean by that; but I am sure Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man.
Brutus: What said he when he came unto himself?
Casca: Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he pluck’d 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 anything 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 Caesar had stabb’d their mothers, they would have done no less.
Brutus: And, after that he came, thus sad away?
Cassius: Did Cicero say anything?
Casca: Ay, he spoke Greek.
Cassius: To what effect?
Casca: Nay, an I tell you that, I’ll ne’er look you i’ the face again: but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling
scarfs off Caesar’s images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if could remember it.
Cassius: Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?
Casca: No, I am promised forth.
Cassius: Will you dine with me tomorrow?
Casca: Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the eating.
Cassius: Good; I will expect you.
Casca: Do so; farewell both.
Brutus: What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
He was quick mettle when he went to school.
Cassius: So is he now in execution Of any bold or noble enterprise, However he puts on this tardy form. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,
Which gives men stomach to digest his words
With better appetite.
Brutus: And so it is. For this time I will leave you:
Tomorrow, if you please to speak with me,
I will come home to you; or, if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for you.
Cassius: I will do so: till then, think of the world.—
Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,
Thy honourable metal may be wrought,
From that it is disposed: therefore ‘tis meet
That noble minds keep ever with their likes;
For who so firm that cannot be seduced?
Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus;
If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,
He should not humour me. I will this night,
In several hands, in at his windows throw,
As if they came from several citizens,
Writings all tending to the great opinion
That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely
Caesar’s ambition shall be glanced at:
And after this let Caesar seat him sure;
For we will shake him, or worse days endure.
A public place in Rome.
[Flourish. CAESAR, ANTONY, (for the course) CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, a large crowd following, among them a Soothsayer; after them, MARULLUS and FLAVIUS, enter.]
Casca: Silence! Caesar speaks.
Calpurnia: Here, my lord.
Caesar: Stand directly in the path of Antony when he runs his race. Antony.
Antony: Caesar, my lord?
Caesar: Don’t forget, in your haste, Antony, to touch Calpurnia; because our elders say that the barren women, touched in this holy race, cast off their sterile curse.
Antony: I will remember. Whenever Caesar says, “Do this,” it is done.
Caesar: Let’s start, and leave out all the formalities. [Flourish.]
Caesar: Ha! Who calls?
Casca: Make every noise stop. Silence, once again!
Caesar: Who is in the crowd that calls out to me? I hear a voice louder than all the music, crying out, “Caesar!” Speak. Caesar has turned to listen.
Soothsayer: Beware the Ides of March.
Caesar: Who is that man?
Brutus: A soothsayer warns you to beware the Ides of March.
Caesar: Bring him before me; let me see his face.
Cassius: Fellow, come out of the crowd;
look at Caesar.
Caesar: What do you say to me now?
Soothsayer: Beware the Ides of March.
Caesar: He’s a dreamer. Let’s leave him. Move on. [Sennet. All exit, except BRUTUS and CASSIUS.]
Cassius: Will you go see the procession?
Brutus: Not me.
Cassius: Please do.
Brutus: I’m not playful.
I lack some part of the quick spirit that Antony has. Don’t let me hinder your desires, Cassius. I’ll leave you.
Cassius: Brutus, I have noticed you recently; I don’t see that gentleness and display of love that I used to see. You treat your friends too harshly and too coldly, especially me, who loves you.
Brutus: Cassius, don’t be deceived.
If I’ve concealed my looks,
I turn the trouble of my face only on myself.
I’m vexed by some differences in opinion of my own, which perhaps tarnish my behavior, but let my good friends not be troubled (among whom,
Cassius, you are one), nor interpret my neglect as anything other than poor Brutus, at war with himself, forgetting to show love to other men.
Cassius: Then, Brutus, I have misunderstood your passion. As a result, my own heart has buried thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your own face?
Brutus: No, Cassius; because the eye cannot see itself except by reflection, by something else.
Cassius: That’s right.
And it’s a great pity, Brutus, that you don’t have a mirror that can show your hidden worthiness in your eyes, so that you can see your own shadow. I’ve heard many of the best and most respected people in Rome (except immortal Caesar) speak of Brutus with a sigh, wishing that noble Brutus had his own eyes.
Brutus: What dangers do you want to lead me into, Cassius, by making me look for something within me that isn’t there?
Cassius: Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to listen. Since you know that you cannot see yourself as well as by reflection, I, your mirror, will modestly reveal to you what you don’t know about yourself yet. And don’t be suspicious of me, gentle Brutus. If I were a common flatterer or if I made empty promises to everyone, then you should be wary of me. But if you know that I don’t flatter people and that I only embrace them sincerely, then trust me.
[Sound of trumpets and shouting.]
Brutus: What does this shouting mean? I’m afraid the people are choosing Caesar as their king.
Cassius: Do you fear it? Then I must think that you don’t want it to happen.
Brutus: I don’t want it, Cassius, but I do love him. Why do you keep me here for so long? What do you want to tell me? If it’s something for the greater good, then let me weigh it with honor and death equally. I love honor more than I fear death, and may the gods reward me accordingly.
Cassius: I know that virtue is in you, Brutus, just as I know your outward appearance. Well, honor is the subject of my story. I don’t know what you and other men think about this life, but I, for myself, would rather not live than live to be afraid of something like Caesar. I was born free like Caesar, and so were you. We both have eaten as well and can withstand the winter’s cold as well as he can. Once, on a raw and gusty day, when the troubled Tiber was churning against her shores, Caesar said to me, “Cassius, do you dare to leap with me into this angry flood and swim to that point over there?” I, dressed as I was, jumped in and asked him to follow, and he did. We struggled against the torrent with all our strength, throwing it aside and fighting it with hearts of controversy. But before we could reach the intended point, Caesar cried, “Help me, Cassius, or I’ll drown!” As Aeneas, our great ancestor, carried the old Anchises from the flames of Troy on his shoulders, I carried the tired Caesar from the waves of the Tiber. And this man has now become a god, while Cassius is a miserable creature who must bow down if Caesar looks at him carelessly. He had a fever when he was in Spain, and when he had a fit, I saw him tremble. It’s true that this god trembled. His cowardly lips turned white, and the same eye that makes the world tremble lost its brilliance. I heard him groan. And that tongue of his, which urged the Romans to write down his speeches in their books, cried out, “Give me something to drink, Titinius,” like a sick girl. Oh gods, it amazes me that a man with such a weak temper can gain such a lead in the world and be the only one to bear the palm.
[Sound of shouting and trumpets.]
Brutus: Everyone shout again! I believe the applause is for some new honor bestowed upon Caesar.
Cassius: Why, man, he towers over the world like a Colossus; and we petty men walk under his massive legs and peek about to find ourselves in dishonorable graves. At times, men are masters of their fate: the problem, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are subordinates. “Brutus” and “Caesar”: what should be in that “Caesar”? Why should that name be sounded more than yours? If you say them together, your name is just as fair; if you say them, it becomes the mouth as well; if you weigh them, it is just as heavy; and if you conjure with them, “Brutus” will start a spirit as soon as “Caesar.” Now, in the name of all the gods at once, on what meat does our Caesar feed that he has become so great? Age, you are shamed! Rome, you have lost the breed of noble bloods! When was there an age since the great flood, but it was renowned with more than with one man? When could they say, until now, who spoke of Rome, that her wide walls encompassed but one man? Now it is truly Rome, and there is enough room when there is only one man in it. Oh, you and I have heard our fathers say there was a Brutus once that would have tolerated the devil himself to maintain his position in Rome, as easily as a king!
Brutus: I’m not jealous that you love me. I have some goal to achieve, and I want to hear what you have to say, but for now, I wouldn’t want you to be any further moved. I’ll consider what you’ve said, and I’ll hear what you have to say with patience and find a suitable time to hear and answer such important things. Until then, my noble friend, ponder on this: Brutus would rather be a villager than to consider himself a son of Rome under these harsh circumstances.
Cassius: I’m glad that my feeble words have at least stirred up some passion in Brutus.
Brutus: The games are over, and Caesar is returning.
Cassius: As they pass by, pull Casca by the sleeve, and he will, in his sour way, tell you what notable event has happened today.
[Caesar and his train enter.]
Brutus: I’ll do that. But look, Cassius, the angry spot is glowing on Caesar’s forehead, and everyone else looks like a reprimanded group. Calpurnia’s face is pale, and Cicero looks with such a ferret and such fiery eyes as we have seen him in the Capitol when he was challenged by some senators.
Cassius: Casca will tell us what’s going on.
Caesar: I want men around me who are fat, sleek-headed men who sleep at night. That Cassius over there has a thin and hungry appearance. He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.
Antony: Don’t be afraid, Caesar. He’s not dangerous; he’s a noble Roman with good character.
Caesar: I wish he were fatter! But I am not afraid of him. However, if I were a person who feared, I don’t know who I would avoid more quickly than that thin Cassius. He reads a lot, he is a keen observer, and he sees through the actions of men. He doesn’t like plays, like you do, Antony, nor does he listen to music. He rarely smiles, and when he does, it’s as if he’s mocking himself and scorning his own spirit for being moved to smile at anything. Men like him are never at ease while in the presence of someone greater than themselves, and so they are very dangerous. I would rather tell you what there is to be feared than what I fear, because I am always Caesar.
Come to my right side, for this ear is deaf, and tell me honestly what you think of him. [Caesar and his attendants exit. Casca remains.]
Casca: You pulled me by my cloak, did you want to speak with me?
Brutus: Yes, Casca, tell us what has happened today that has made Caesar so sad.
Casca: Weren’t you with him?
Brutus: If I were, I wouldn’t need to ask you what had happened.
Casca: Well, he was offered a crown, and when it was offered to him, he pushed it away with the back of his hand, like this. Then the people started shouting.
Brutus: What was the reason for the second noise?
Casca: It was for the same reason.
Cassius: They shouted three times. What was the reason for the last cry?
Casca: Why, for the same thing.
Brutus: He was offered the crown three times?
Casca: Well, gentlemen, let me tell you that Caesar was offered the crown three times by Antony. Each time he refused it, but each refusal was gentler than the last. And every time he put it away, the common people cheered.
Cassius: Who offered him the crown?
Casca: Antony did.
Brutus: Casca, can you tell us more about what happened?
Casca: I’m afraid I can’t. It was all a bit of a farce to me, to be honest. Antony offered Caesar a coronet, not a proper crown. And although Caesar refused it three times, he seemed quite hesitant to let it go. And every time he refused, the crowd cheered and shouted so much that it made Caesar dizzy. In fact, he even fainted and fell to the ground. I didn’t dare laugh, for fear of breathing in the bad air.
Cassius: Did Caesar really faint?
Casca: Yes, he did. He fell to the ground in the marketplace, frothing at the mouth and unable to speak.
Brutus: It sounds like he had a seizure.
Cassius: No, Brutus, Caesar doesn’t have seizures. That’s something that Casca, you, and I have all experienced.
Casca: I don’t know what you mean by that. But what I do know is that if the common people hadn’t cheered and jeered at Caesar, just like they do at actors in the theater, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Brutus: When Caesar finally came to, what did he say?
Casca: Well, before he fell down, Caesar noticed that the common people were pleased that he had refused the crown. He opened his doublet and offered them his throat to cut. If I had been a man of any profession, I would have taken him at his word. But then he fell down. When he regained consciousness, he said that if he had done or said anything wrong, he hoped that people would attribute it to his infirmity. Three or four women near me cried, “Poor soul!” and forgave him with all their hearts. But we should not pay any attention to them. Even if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have forgiven him.
Brutus: And then he left, looking sad?
Cassius: Did Cicero say anything?
Casca: Yes, he spoke Greek.
Cassius: What did he say?
Casca: If I tell you that, I’ll never be able to look you in the face again. But those who understood him smiled at each other and shook their heads. As for me, it was all Greek to me. I could tell you more news too. Marullus and Flavius have been silenced for removing scarves from Caesar’s statues. Farewell. There was even more foolishness, if only I could remember it.
Cassius: Will you have supper with me tonight, Casca?
Casca: No, I have already made plans.
Cassius: Will you dine with me tomorrow?
Casca: Yes, if I’m still alive, and if your meal is worth eating.
Cassius: Good. I’ll expect you.
Casca: Okay, goodbye to both of you. [CASCA exits.]
Brutus: How blunt Casca has become! He used to be quick-tempered when he was in school.
Cassius: But he still has that spirit when it comes to any bold or noble undertaking, even if he puts on this slow and sluggish appearance. His rudeness is a seasoning for his good wit, which makes people eager to hear his words and digest them with greater appetite.
Brutus: That’s settled then. I’ll leave you now. If you want to speak with me tomorrow, you can come to my house, or I can come to yours.
Cassius: Sounds good. Until then, think about our situation. [Brutus exits]
Well, Brutus, you’re noble, but I can see that your noble nature can be swayed. That’s why it’s important for people of high character to stick together. Even the strongest can be influenced. Caesar doesn’t like me, but he likes you. If I were in your shoes and he were in mine, he wouldn’t have my favor. Tonight, I’ll have some anonymous letters delivered to his window from various citizens. The letters will hint at the great reputation Rome has for him, but they will also allude to Caesar’s ambition. After that, let Caesar think he’s safe, but we’ll strike when he least expects it.