1 Set him before me; let me see his face.
2 Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; I'll leave you.
3 Well, I will hie, And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
4 If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, He should not humour me.
5 Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me; yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
6 Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.
7 But those that understood him smil'd at one another and shook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me.
8 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.
9 Besides, I ha not since put up my sword, Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glared upon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me.
10 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.
11 Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he pluck'd me ope his doublet, and offer'd them his throat to cut.
12 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.
13 Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
14 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.
15 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.
16 For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, Submitting me unto the perilous night; And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, Have bar'd my bosom to the thunder-stone; And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open The breast of heaven, I did present myself Even in the aim and very flash of it.
17 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.
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