Cicero speaks in measured, philosophical sentences that sidestep commitment — he observes, qualifies, and exits. His famous line here ('men may construe things after their fashion') is practically his entire character in one sentence: brilliant, detached, and ultimately unwilling to be used. Watch for how everyone tries to recruit Cicero and how he slips away every time.
Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home?
Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?
Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home? Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?
Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home? Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?
good even, casca: brought you caesar home
Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth
Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds
Have riv’d the knotty oaks; and I have seen
Th’ ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,
To be exalted with the threatening clouds:
But never till tonight, never till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
Either there is a civil strife in heaven,
Or else the world too saucy with the gods,
Incenses them to send destruction.
Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have riv’d the knotty oaks; and I have seen Th’ ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threatening clouds: But never till tonight, never till now, Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. Either there is a civil strife in heaven, Or else the world too saucy with the gods, Incenses them to send destruction.
Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have riv’d the knotty oaks; and I have seen Th’ ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threatening clouds: But never till tonight, never till now, Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. Either there's a civil strife in heaven, Or else the world too saucy with the gods, Incenses them to send destruction.
are not you moved, when all the sway of earth shakes like a thing unfirm
Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
why, saw you anything more wonderful
A common slave, you’d know him well by sight,
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
Like twenty torches join’d, and yet his hand,
Not sensible of fire remain’d unscorch’d.
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. And there were drawn
Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,
Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw
Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets.
And yesterday the bird of night did sit,
Even at noonday upon the marketplace,
Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say,
“These are their reasons; they are natural”;
For I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the climate that they point upon.
A common slave, you’d know him well by sight, Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn Like twenty torches join’d, and yet his hand, Not sensible of fire remain’d unscorch’d. 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. And there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets. And yesterday the bird of night did sit, Even at noonday upon the marketplace, Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies Do so conjointly meet, let not men say, “These are their reasons; they are natural”; For I believe, they are portentous things Unto the climate that they point upon.
A common slave, you’d know him well by sight, Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn Like twenty torches join’d, and yet his hand, Not sensible of fire remain’d unscorch’d. 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. And there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets. And yesterday the bird of night did sit, Even at noonday upon the marketplace, Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies Do so conjointly meet, let not men say, “These are their reasons; they are natural”; For I believe, they are portentous things Unto the climate that they point upon.
a common slave, you’d know him well by sight, held up his left hand, which did flame and burn like twenty torches join’d, and yet his hand, not sensible of...
Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time.
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?
Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time. But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?
Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time. But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?
indeed, it is a strange-disposed time
He doth, for he did bid Antonius
Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.
He does, for he did bid Antonius Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.
He does, for he did bid Antonius Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.
he doth, for he did bid antonius send word to you he would be there tomorrow
Goodnight then, Casca: this disturbed sky
Is not to walk in.
Goodnight then, Casca: this disturbed sky Is not to walk in.
Goodnight then, Casca: this disturbed sky Is not to walk in.
goodnight then, casca: this disturbed sky is not to walk in
Shakespeare could have written this scene in a tavern or a quiet room. He chose a supernatural storm — and it's one of the most deliberate pieces of stagecraft in the play. The storm does multiple things at once: it creates isolation (no one is out, so the conspirators can speak freely), it raises the emotional temperature so Casca is already rattled before Cassius even arrives, and it becomes the central argument of the scene. Cassius reframes the storm itself: what looks like divine terror is actually divine warning, aimed specifically at Rome's political crisis. This move — taking frightening events and interpreting them as calls to action rather than calls to submission — is the entire structure of Cassius's persuasion throughout the play. He does it with the mirror speech, with the 'fault is not in our stars' speech, and now with the actual sky. The Elizabethan stage had no lights, so storms were created with drums, thunder sheets, and fireworks (the Globe burned down in 1613 partly due to a cannon misfire during a performance of Henry VIII). The point is: audiences didn't just hear the storm, they experienced it. And in that shared experience, Cassius's argument — that the terrifying and the beautiful can be the same thing — lands with full physical force.
Farewell, Cicero.
Farewell, Cicero.
Farewell, Cicero.
farewell, cicero
Who’s there?
Who’s there?
Who’s there?
who’s there
A Roman.
A Roman.
A Roman.
a roman
Casca, by your voice.
Casca, by your voice.
Casca, by your voice.
casca, by your voice
Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
your ear is good
A very pleasing night to honest men.
A very pleasing night to honest men.
A very pleasing night to honest men.
a very pleasing night to honest men
Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
who ever knew the heavens menace so
Cicero is one of the most tantalizing what-ifs in the play. He is historically the greatest orator of the Roman world — the man whose speeches still define Latin rhetoric today. He appears here for exactly three speeches, refuses to engage with anything political, and walks away into the storm. In the next act (2-1), when the conspirators discuss whether to recruit him, Cassius actually suggests it, and Brutus firmly refuses: Cicero will never follow what someone else has begun. That exchange is everything you need to know about both men — Cassius sees Cicero as a useful weapon; Brutus understands that Cicero's intellectual independence makes him uncontrollable. Shakespeare's Cicero is a mirror held up to the conspiracy: his line about men construing things 'after their fashion' is an epistemological observation that accidentally diagnoses the whole enterprise. He sees the problem, names it with perfect clarity, and walks away. Historically, Cicero was killed on Antony's orders in 43 BC, his head and hands displayed on the Forum rostra — the speaking platform from which he had made his greatest speeches. That irony is almost too pointed to be accidental.
Those that have known the earth so full of faults.
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.
Those that have known the earth so full of faults. 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.
Those that have known the earth so full of faults. 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.
those that have known the earth so full of faults
But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heavens?
It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty gods by tokens send
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heavens? It is the part of men to fear and tremble, When the most mighty gods by tokens send Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heavens? It is the part of men to fear and tremble, When the most mighty gods by tokens send Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
but wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens
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,
Why birds and beasts, from quality and kind;
Why old men, fools, and children calculate,
Why all these things change from their ordinance,
Their natures, and pre-formed faculties,
To monstrous quality; why, you shall find
That Heaven hath infus’d them with these spirits,
To make them instruments of fear and warning
Unto some monstrous state.
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.
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, Why birds and beasts, from quality and kind; Why old men, fools, and children calculate, Why all these things change from their ordinance, Their natures, and pre-formed faculties, To monstrous quality; why, you shall find That Heaven has infus’d them with these spirits, To make them instruments of fear and warning Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca, name to you a man Most like this dreadful night, That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars, As does 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.
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, Why birds and beasts, from quality and kind; Why old men, fools, and children calculate, Why all these things change from their ordinance, Their natures, and pre-formed faculties, To monstrous quality; why, you shall find That Heaven has infus’d them with these spirits, To make them instruments of fear and warning Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca, name to you a man Most like this dreadful night, That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars, As does 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.
you are dull, casca; and those sparks of life that should be in a roman you do want, or else you use not
’Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?
’Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?
’Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?
’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 womanish.
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 womanish.
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're govern’d with our mothers’ spirits; Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.
let it be who it is: for romans now have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; but, woe the while
Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow
Mean to establish Caesar as a king;
And he shall wear his crown by sea and land,
In every place, save here in Italy.
Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow Mean to establish Caesar as a king; And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, In every place, save here in Italy.
Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow Mean to establish Caesar as a king; And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, In every place, save here in Italy.
indeed, they say the senators tomorrow mean to establish caesar as a king; and he shall wear his crown by sea and land, in every place, save here in italy
I know where I will wear this dagger then;
Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius:
Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat.
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
If I know this, know all the world besides,
That part of tyranny that I do bear
I can shake off at pleasure.
I know where I will wear this dagger then; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat. Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this, know all the world besides, That part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure.
I know where I will wear this dagger then; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat. Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this, know all the world besides, That part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure.
i know where i will wear this dagger then; cassius from bondage will deliver cassius: therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; therein, ye gods, you tyrants do...
So can I:
So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.
So can I: So every bondman in his own hand bears The power to cancel his captivity.
So can I: So every bondman in his own hand bears The power to cancel his captivity.
so can i: so every bondman in his own hand bears the power to cancel his captivity
If you go back to scene 1-2, Casca speaks almost entirely in prose — flat, cynical, deliberately anti-poetic. He mocks the crown ceremony in the voice of someone who finds theatrical emotion embarrassing. Then in 1-3, he opens the scene in full blank verse, describing fire-storms and burning hands and lions at the Capitol in vivid, rhythmic poetry. What changed? The storm broke something open in him, cracked the shell of ironic detachment. And once Cassius starts working on him — appealing to Roman manhood, reframing the omens, offering a coherent narrative — Casca doesn't just join the conspiracy, he starts speaking like a conspirator. By the time he describes Brutus as 'richest alchemy,' he's producing genuine metaphor. This is Shakespeare using verse/prose as a character-development instrument: Casca moves from prose to verse as he moves from cynic to convert. Watch for whether the verse holds in the scenes ahead, or whether the shell closes back up.
And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?
Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf,
But that he sees the Romans are but sheep:
He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
Those that with haste will make a mighty fire
Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome,
What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves
For the base matter to illuminate
So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief,
Where hast thou led me? I, perhaps, speak this
Before a willing bondman: then I know
My answer must be made; but I am arm’d,
And dangers are to me indifferent.
And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. Those that with haste will make a mighty fire Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome, What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves For the base matter to illuminate So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, Where hast you led me? I, perhaps, speak this Before a willing bondman: then I know My answer must be made; but I am arm’d, And dangers are to me indifferent.
And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? Poor man! I know he wouldn't be a wolf, But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. Those that with haste will make a mighty fire Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome, What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves For the base matter to illuminate So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, Where hast you led me? I, perhaps, speak this Before a willing bondman: then I know My answer must be made; but I'm arm’d, And dangers are to me indifferent.
and why should caesar be a tyrant then
You speak to Casca, and to such a man
That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand:
Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
And I will set this foot of mine as far
As who goes farthest.
You speak to Casca, and to such a man That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: Be factious for redress of all these griefs, And I will set this foot of mine as far As who goes farthest.
You speak to Casca, and to such a man That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: Be factious for redress of all these griefs, And I will set this foot of mine as far As who goes farthest.
you speak to casca, and to such a man that is no fleering tell-tale
There’s a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have mov’d already
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
To undergo with me an enterprise
Of honourable-dangerous consequence;
And I do know by this, they stay for me
In Pompey’s Porch: for now, this fearful night,
There is no stir or walking in the streets;
And the complexion of the element
In favour’s like the work we have in hand,
Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
There’s a bargain made. Now know you, Casca, I have mov’d already Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans To undergo with me an enterprise Of honourable-dangerous consequence; And I do know by this, they stay for me In Pompey’s Porch: for now, this fearful night, There is no stir or walking in the streets; And the complexion of the element In favour’s like the work we have in hand, Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
There’s a bargain made. Now know you, Casca, I have mov’d already Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans To undergo with me an enterprise Of honourable-dangerous consequence; And I do know by this, they stay for me In Pompey’s Porch: for now, this fearful night, There is no stir or walking in the streets; And the complexion of the element In favour’s like the work we have in hand, Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
there’s a bargain made
Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste
’Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait;
He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?
’Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?
’Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?
’tis cinna; i do know him by his gait; he is a friend
Cinna (the conspirator — don't confuse him with Cinna the poet who appears later) speaks in short, eager bursts, always half a step behind Cassius's thinking. He's a lieutenant, not a strategist. Watch for how he simply executes orders and confirms logistics — the conspiracy's errand-runner.
To find out you. Who’s that? Metellus Cimber?
To find out you. Who’s that? Metellus Cimber?
To find out you. Who’s that? Metellus Cimber?
to find out you
No, it is Casca, one incorporate
To our attempts. Am I not stay’d for, Cinna?
No, it is Casca, one incorporate To our attempts. Am I not stay’d for, Cinna?
No, it is Casca, one incorporate To our attempts. Am I not stay’d for, Cinna?
no, it is casca, one incorporate to our attempts
I am glad on’t. What a fearful night is this!
There’s two or three of us have seen strange sights.
I am glad on’t. What a fearful night is this! There’s two or three of us have seen strange sights.
I'm glad on’t. What a fearful night is this! There’s two or three of us have seen strange sights.
i am glad on’t
There's a speech in this scene that reveals more about Cassius than almost any other moment in the play. He says: Caesar 'would not be a wolf, but that he sees the Romans are but sheep.' In other words, Cassius's grievance isn't really about Caesar at all — it's about Rome. He holds Rome's collective servility in contempt. A wolf only exists because there are sheep; a tyrant only exists because citizens permit tyranny. This is a coherent political philosophy, and it's also self-defeating: if the people are inherently sheep, then removing Caesar just clears the way for the next wolf. Cassius doesn't have an answer to that. He knows how to diagnose the problem but not how to cure it — and the second half of the play, when Antony weaponizes that same sheeplike crowd against the conspirators, is the proof. What makes Cassius interesting is that he's probably right about Caesar, and probably right about Rome, and still manages to engineer a catastrophe. The tragedy isn't ignorance — it's incomplete intelligence.
Am I not stay’d for? tell me.
Am I not stay’d for? tell me.
Am I not stay’d for? tell me.
am i not stay’d for
Yes, you are. O Cassius, if you could
But win the noble Brutus to our party—
Yes, you are. O Cassius, if you could But win the noble Brutus to our party—
Yes, you're. O Cassius, if you could But win the noble Brutus to our party—
yes, you are
Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper,
And look you lay it in the praetor’s chair,
Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
In at his window; set this up with wax
Upon old Brutus’ statue: all this done,
Repair to Pompey’s Porch, where you shall find us.
Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper, And look you lay it in the praetor’s chair, Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this In at his window; set this up with wax Upon old Brutus’ statue: all this done, Repair to Pompey’s Porch, where you shall find us. Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper, And look you lay it in the praetor’s chair, Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this In at his window; set this up with wax Upon old Brutus’ statue: all this done, Repair to Pompey’s Porch, where you shall find us. Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
be you content
All but Metellus Cimber, and he’s gone
To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
All but Metellus Cimber, and he’s gone To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
All but Metellus Cimber, and he’s gone To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
all but metellus cimber, and he’s gone to seek you at your house
That done, repair to Pompey’s theatre.
That done, repair to Pompey’s theatre.
That done, repair to Pompey’s theatre.
that done, repair to pompey’s theatre
O, he sits high in all the people’s hearts!
And that which would appear offence in us,
His countenance, like richest alchemy,
Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
O, he sits high in all the people’s hearts! And that which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchemy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
O, he sits high in all the people’s hearts! And that which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchemy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
o, he sits high in all the people’s hearts
Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You have right well conceited. Let us go,
For it is after midnight; and ere day,
We will awake him, and be sure of him.
Him, and his worth, and our great need of him, You have right well conceited. Let us go, For it is after midnight; and ere day, We will awake him, and be sure of him.
Him, and his worth, and our great need of him, You have right well conceited. Let us go, For it is after midnight; and ere day, We will awake him, and be sure of him.
him, and his worth, and our great need of him, you have right well conceited
The Reckoning
Cassius is extraordinary here: where everyone else sees divine terror, he sees political opportunity, turning a natural disaster into a recruitment pitch. Casca arrives shaking, sword drawn against the sky, and leaves a committed conspirator — which tells you everything about how seductive Cassius's worldview is. The audience watches a frightened man get talked out of his fear and into something far more dangerous.
If this happened today…
Picture a city-wide power outage after a freak storm — transformers exploding, streets empty, emergency alerts going off. Most people are locked inside doom-scrolling. But one guy texts you: 'Meet me outside. Bring your jacket. I've been waiting for a night like this.' He's been walking around the blackout for hours, jacket open, daring the storm — and when you show up rattled, he calmly explains that the chaos isn't scary, it's clarifying. By the time he's done talking, you've agreed to show up somewhere tomorrow and do something you'll never be able to take back. That's Cassius in 1-3.