Read the excerpt from act 1, scene 2, of Julius Caesar.CASSIUS. 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. [Flourish, and shout]
Which quotations support the central idea that Brutus thinks Caesar is dangerous and needs to be killed before he becomes even more dangerous? Select three options.
Read the two excerpts from act 4, scene 3, and act 5, scene 5, of Julius Caesar.CASSIUS. Ha! Portia?BRUTUS. She is dead.CASSIUS. How scaped I killing when I crossed you so?O insupportable and touching loss!Upon what sickness?BRUTUS. Impatient of my absence,And grief that young Octavius with Mark AntonyHave made themselves so strong—for with her deathThat tidings came. With this, she fell distraught,And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire.BRUTUS. Why this, Volumnius.The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to meTwo several times by night—at Sardis once,And this last night, here in Philippi fields.I know my hour is come.VOLUMNIUS. Not so, my lord.BRUTUS. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes.Our enemies have beat us to the pit,[Low alarums]It is more worthy to leap in ourselvesThan tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,Thou know’st that we two went to school together.Even for that, our love of old, I prithee, Hold thou my sword hilts, whilst I run on it. . . .So fare you well at once, for Brutus’ tongueHath almost ended his life’s history.Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,That have but laboured to attain this hour. . . . I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord.Thou art a fellow of a good respect.Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it. Hold then my sword, and turn away thy faceWhile I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
Read the excerpt from act 2, scene 1, of Julius Caesar.[PORTIA.] It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, And could it work so much upon your shape As it hath much prevailed on your condition, I should not know you Brutus. Dear my lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.BRUTUS. I am not well in health, and that is all.PORTIA. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, He would embrace the means to come by it. . . .[PORTIA.] You have some sick offence within your mind Which by the right and virtue of my place, I ought to know of.
Read the excerpt from Julius Caesar, act 2, scene 1.BRUTUS. It must be by his death: and for my part I know no personal cause to spurn at him But for the general. He would be crowned: How that might change his nature, there’s the question. It is the bright day that brings forth the adder,5 And that craves wary walking. Crown him that, And then I grant we put a sting in him That at his will he may do danger with. Th’ abuse of greatness is when it disjoins Remorse from power. And to speak truth of Caesar . . .10
Read the excerpt from act 5, scene 5, of The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.[BRUTUS.] Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,That have but laboured to attain this hour. . . .I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord.Thou art a fellow of a good respect.Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it. Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? STRATO. Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.BRUTUS. Farewell, good Strato. . . .Caesar, now be still:I killed not thee with half so good a will.
Read the excerpt from act 4, scene 3, of Julius Caesar.BRUTUS. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.CASSIUS. Ha! Portia?BRUTUS. She is dead.CASSIUS. How scaped I killing when I crossed you so?O insupportable and touching loss!Upon what sickness?BRUTUS. Impatient of my absence,And grief that young Octavius with Mark AntonyHave made themselves so strong—for with her deathThat tidings came. With this, she fell distraught,And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire.
Read the excerpt from Julius Caesar, act 2, scene 1.PORTIA. Brutus, my lord.BRUTUS. Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now?It is not for your health thus to commitYour weak condition to the raw cold morning.PORTIA. Nor for yours neither. You’ve ungently, Brutus,Stole from my bed; and yesternight at supperYou suddenly arose, and walked aboutMusing and sighing, with your arms across,And when I asked you what the matter was,You stared upon me with ungentle looks.I urged you further; then you scratched your head,And too impatiently stamped with your foot.Yet I insisted, yet you answered not,But with an angry wafture of your handGave sign for me to leave you. So I did,Fearing to strengthen that impatienceWhich seemed too much enkindled, and withalHoping it was but an effect of humour,Which sometime hath his hour with every man.It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,And could it work so much upon your shapeAs it hath much prevailed on your condition,I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.BRUTUS. I am not well in health, and that is all.
Read the passage from act 2, scene 1, of The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.BRUTUS. Kneel not, gentle Portia. . . .You are my true and honourable wife, As dear to me as are the ruddy dropsThat visit my sad heart.PORTIA. If this were true, then should I know this secret. . . .Tell me your counsels; I will not disclose 'em. I have made strong proof of my constancy,Giving myself a voluntary woundHere in the thigh. Can I bear that with patience,And not my husband’s secrets?
Read the excerpt from act 2, scene 1, of The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.BRUTUS. It must be by his death: and for my partI know no personal cause to spurn at himBut for the general. He would be crowned:How that might change his nature, there’s the question.It is the bright day that brings forth the adder,And that craves wary walking. Crown him that,And then I grant we put a sting in himThat at his will he may do danger with.Th’ abuse of greatness is when it disjoinsRemorse from power. And to speak truth of Caesar, I have not known when his affections swayedMore than his reason. But 'tis a common proofThat lowliness is young ambition’s ladder,Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;But when he once attains the upmost round,He then unto the ladder turns his back,Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degreesBy which he did ascend. So Caesar may.Then lest he may, prevent. And since the quarrelWill bear no colour for the thing he is,Fashion it thus: that what he is, augmented,Would run to these and these extremities;And therefore think him as a serpent’s eggWhich, hatched, would as his kind grow mischievous,And kill him in the shell.
Read the excerpt from Julius Caesar, act 2, scene 1.BRUTUS. It must be by his death: and for my partI know no personal cause to spurn at himBut for the general. He would be crowned:How that might change his nature, there’s the question.It is the bright day that brings forth the adder,*And that craves wary walking. Crown him that,And then I grant we put a sting in himThat at his will he may do danger with.*An adder is a snake.
Read the excerpt from Julius Caesar, act 1, scene 2.CASSIUS. 'Tis just; And it is very much lamented, Brutus,60 That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye, That you might see your shadow. I have heardWhere many of the best respect in Rome— Except immortal Caesar—speaking of Brutus,65 And groaning underneath this age’s yoke, Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes.BRUTUS. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?CASSIUS. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear. And since you know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass,Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself which you yet know not of.
Read the excerpt from act 1, scene 2, of Julius Caesar.BRUTUS. What means this shouting? I do fear the peopleChoose Caesar for their king.CASSIUS. Ay, do you fear it?Then must I think you would not have it so.BRUTUS. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.But wherefore do you hold me here so long?What is it that you would impart to me?If it be aught toward the general good,Set honour in one eye and death i’th’ other,And I will look on both indifferently;For let the gods so speed me as I loveThe name of honour more than I fear death.
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