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Cic. Good even, Casca: brought you Cæsar home? Why are you breathless? and why stare you so?

Casca. Are not you mov'd, 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 The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds: But never till to-night, 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.

Cic. Why, saw you anything more wonderful?

Casca. A common slave—you 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 have not since put up my sword,— Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glar'd 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  1 brought: escorted 3 sway: settled order 14 more: else (or, extraordinarily) 18 sensible of: vulnerable by, sensitive to 22, 23 drawn heap: crowded together in a body 