Casca, by your voice.
Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
A very pleasing night to honest men.
Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
Those that have known the earth so full of faults.
For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
me unto the perilous night,
And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,
Have bared my bosom to the thunder-
And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
in the aim and very flash of it.
But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens?
It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
most mighty gods by tokens send
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life
That should be in a Roman you do want,
Or else you use
not. You look pale and gaze
And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder,
To see the strange impatience
of the heavens:
But if you would consider the true cause
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
birds and beasts from quality and kind,
Why old men fool and children calculate,
Why all these things
change from their ordinance
Their natures and preformed faculties
To monstrous quality, why, you shall
That heaven hath infused them with these spirits,
To make them instruments of fear and warning
some monstrous state.
Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man
Most like this dreadful night,
lightens, opens graves, and roars
As doth the lion in the Capitol,
A man no mightier than thyself or me
personal action, yet prodigious grown
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
'Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?
Let it be who it is: for Romans now
Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors;
But, woe the while! our
fathers' minds are dead,
And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits;
Our yoke and sufferance show us
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd,
and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission.
See our FAQ for more details.