1 Bear with him, Brutus; 'tis his fashion.'
2 Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness.
3 Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; He is a friend.
4 Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, Who doth desire to see you.'
5 Tis three o'clock; and Romans, yet ere night We shall try fortune in a second fight.
6 If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed; If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.'
7 That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time And drawing days out, that men stand upon.'
8 Here, take thou the hilts; And when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now, Guide thou the sword.'
9 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.
10 They could be content To visit other places, and come down With fearful bravery, thinking by this face To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage; But 'tis not so.'
11 This it is: 'Tis better that the enemy seek us; So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, Doing himself offence, whilst we, lying still, Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.'
12 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.'
13 But 'tis a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend.'
14 So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men, And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; Yet in the number I do know but one That unassailable holds on his rank, Unshak'd of motion: and that I am he, Let me a little show it, even in this, That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, And constant do remain to keep him so.'