CASCA. He fell down in the market-place, and foam’d at mouth, and was speechless.

BRUTUS. ’Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness. 

CASSIUS. No, Caesar hath it not; but you, and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness. 

CASCA. I know not what you mean by that; but I am sure Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man. 

BRUTUS. What said he when he came unto himself? 

CASCA. 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. And I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, if he had done or said anything amiss, he desir’d their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches where I stood cried, “Alas, good soul!” and forgave him with all their hearts. But there’s no heed to be taken of them: if Caesar had stabb’d their mothers, they would have done no less. 

BRUTUS. And, after that, he came thus sad away? 

CASCA. Ay. 

CASSIUS. Did Cicero say anything? 

CASCA. Ay, he spoke Greek. 

CASSIUS. To what effect? 

CASCA. Nay, and I tell you that, I’ll ne’er look you i’ the face again. But those that understood him smil’d at one another and shook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Caesar’s images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it. 

CASSIUS. Will you sup with me tonight, Casca? 

CASCA. No, I am promis’d forth. 

CASSIUS. Will you dine with me 

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