D. John.: I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace; and it better fits my blood to be disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any: in this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage. If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do my liking: in the meantime, let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me.
And woo her with some spirit when she comes. Say that she rail; why, then, I'll tell her plain, she sings as sweetly as a nightingail: Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear As morning roses newly washt with dew: Say she be mute and will not speak a word; Then I'll commend her volubility, And say she uttereth piercing eloquence: If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks, As though she bid me stay by her a week: If she deny to be wed, I'll crave the day When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
But yesterday the word of Caesar mightHave stood against the world; now lies he there.And none so poor to do him reverence.O masters, if I were disposed to stirYour hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,Who, you all know, are honourable men:I will not do them wrong; I rather chooseTo wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,Than I will wrong such honourable men.But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar;I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:Let but the commons hear this testament--Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read--And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's woundsAnd dip their napkins in his sacred blood,Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,And, dying, mention it within their wills,Bequeathing it as a rich legacyUnto their issue.
And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed in office.Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand.Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back.Thou hotly lust’st to use her in that kindFor which thou whipp’st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.Through tattered clothes great vices do appear;Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks.Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.None does offend—none, I say, none. I’ll able 'em.Take that of me, my friend, who have the powerTo seal th' accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes,And like a scurvy politician seemTo see the things thou dost not.
I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much, He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men. He loves no plays As thou dost, Anthony; he heard no music; Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mocked himself and scorned his spirit That could be moved to smile at anything. Such men as he be never at heart's ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous.