Brutus. Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanced to-day, That Caesar looks so sad.
Casca. Why you were with him. Were you not?
Brutus. I should not then ask Casca what hath chanced.
Casca. Why there was a crown offered him: and, being offered, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; and then the people fell a shouting.
Brutus. What was the second noise for?
Casca. Why for that too.
Brutus. They shouted thrice. What was the last cry for?
Casca. Why for that too.
Brutus. Was the crown offered him thrice?
Casca. Ay marry was't. And he put it by thrice, every time gentler than the other; and at every putting by, mine honest neighbours shouted.