He is a dreamer; let us leave him. Pass.
                      Sennet. Exeunt all but 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 veil'd 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 behaviors;
    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 whereof 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 wish'd 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 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.
  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 be aught toward the general good,
    Set honor 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 honor more than I fear death.
  CASSIUS. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
    As well as I do know your outward favor.
    Well, honor 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 color 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. Shout. Flourish.
  BRUTUS. Another general shout!
    I do believe that these applauses are
    For some new honors 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 dishonorable 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 'em,
    "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
    The 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.