1 Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course.
2 Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, Who doth desire to see you.'
3 He doth, for he did bid Antonius Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.
4 Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read, At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
5 O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon grey lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
6 Cassius, be constant: Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; For look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.
7 Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
8 Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; Say I am merry; come to me again, And bring me word what he doth say to thee.
9 Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey; I wonder none of you have thought of him.
10 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.
11 Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, For he went sickly forth: and take good note What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
12 The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, They are all fire, and every one doth shine; But there's but one in all doth hold his place.
13 Yes, every man of them; and no man here But honours you; and everyone doth wish You had but that opinion of yourself Which every noble Roman bears of you.
14 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.
15 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 lustre.'
16 But, look you, Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, And all the rest look like a chidden train: Calphurnia'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.
17 Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man Most like this dreadful night, That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars, As doth the lion in the Capitol; A man no mightier than thyself, or me, In personal action; yet prodigious grown, And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
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