Module 2: "Julius Caesar" by William Shakespeare, Act 4

So is my horse, Octavius, and for that
I do appoint him store of provender.

It is a creature that I teach to fight,
To wind, to stop, to run directly on,
His corporal motion governed by my spirit;
And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so.

Brutus and Cassius
Are levying powers.

Therefore let our alliance be combined,
Our best friends made, our means stretched;
And let us presently go sit in council
How covert matters may be best disclosed
And open perils surest answered.

Therefore let our alliance be combined,
Our best friends made, our means stretched;
And let us presently go sit in council
How covert matters may be best disclosed
And open perils surest answered.

He is at hand, and Pindarus is come
To do you salutation from his master.

I do not doubt
But that my noble master will appear
Such as he is, full of regard and honor.

There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle,
Low march within.

There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle,
Low march within.

But when they should endure the bloody spur,
They fall their crests and, like deceitful jades,
Sink in the trial.

But when they should endure the bloody spur,
They fall their crests and, like deceitful jades,
Sink in the trial.

Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs,
And when you do them—

Before the eyes of both our armies here
(Which should perceive nothing but love from us),
Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away.

The name of Cassius honours this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.

What, shall one of us
That struck the foremost man of all this world
But for supporting robbers, shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes
And sell the mighty space of our large honors
For so much trash as may be grasped thus?

I had rather be a dog and bay the moon
Than such a Roman.

Brutus, bait not me.

Go show your slaves how choleric you are
And make your bondmen tremble.

Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humor?

By the gods,
You shall digest the venom of your spleen
Though it do split you.

Let it appear so, make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well.

Do not presume too much upon my love.
I may do that I shall be sorry for.

I did send to you
For certain sums of gold, which you denied me,
For I can raise no money by vile means.

I did send
To you for gold to pay my legions,
Which you denied me.

When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts;
Dash him to pieces!

Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is aweary of the world—
Hated by one he loves, braved by his brother,
Checked like a bondman, all his faults observed,
Set in a notebook, learned and conned by rote
To cast into my teeth.

Hath Cassius lived
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus
When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him?

Hath Cassius lived
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus
When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him?

Let me go in to see the Generals.
There is some grudge between ’em; ’tis not meet
They be alone.

Ha, ha, how vilely doth this cynic rhyme!

Impatient of my absence,
And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony
Have made themselves so strong—for with her
death
That tidings came—with this she fell distract
And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire.

Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor.

With meditating that she must die once,
I have the patience to endure it now.

So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
Doing himself offense, whilst we, lying still,
Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness.

You must note besides
That we have tried the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brim full, our cause is ripe.

On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves
Or lose our ventures.

Noble, noble Cassius,
Good night and good repose.

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

This is a sleepy tune. O murd’rous slumber,
Layest thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,
That plays thee music?

I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition.