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. Exit.
  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.
                                                    Exit Brutus.
    Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see
    Thy honorable mettle may be wrought
    From that it is disposed; therefore it is 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 humor 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. Exit.

SCENE III. A street. Thunder and lightning.

Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and
Cicero.

  CICERO. Good even, Casca. Brought you Caesar home?
    Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?
  CASCA. Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth
    Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
    I have seen tempests when the scolding winds
    Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen
    The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam
    To be exalted with the threatening clouds,
    But never till tonight, never till now,
    Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
    Either there is a civil strife in heaven,
    Or else the world too saucy with the gods
    Incenses them to send destruction.
  CICERO. Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
  CASCA. A common slave- you know him well by sight-
    Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
    Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand
    Not sensible of fire remain'd unscorch'd.
    Besides- I ha' not since put up my sword-
    Against the Capitol I met a lion,
    Who glaz'd upon me and went surly by
    Without annoying me. And there were drawn
    Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women
    Transformed with their fear, who swore they saw
    Men all in fire walk up and down the streets.
    And yesterday the bird of night did sit
    Even at noonday upon the marketplace,
    Howling and shrieking. When these prodigies
    Do so conjointly meet, let not men say
    "These are their reasons; they are natural":
    For I believe they are portentous things
    Unto the climate that they point upon.
  CICERO. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time.
    But men may construe things after their fashion,
    Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
    Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?
  CASCA. He doth, for he did bid Antonio
    Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.
  CICERO. Good then, Casca. This disturbed sky
    Is not to walk in.
  CASCA. Farewell, Cicero. Exit Cicero.

Enter Cassius.

  CASSIUS. Who's there?
  CASCA. A Roman.
  CASSIUS. Casca, by your voice.
  CASCA. Your ear is good.