Act I

Scene I

Rome. A street

Enter Flavius, Marullus and certain Commoners

Flavius

Hence, home, you idle creatures, get you home

Is this a holiday? What, know you not,

Being mechanical, you ought not walk

Upon a labouring day without the sign

Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?

First Commoner

Why, sir, a carpenter

Marullus

Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?

What dost thou with thy best apparel on?

You, sir, what trade are you?

Second Commoner

Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I ambut, as you would say, a cobbler

Marullus

But what trade art thou? Answer me directly

Second Commoner

A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience, which is indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles

Marullus

What trade, thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what trade?

Second Commoner

Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me; yet,if you be out, sir, I can mend you

Marullus

What mean’st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow!

Second Commoner

Why, sir, cobble you

Flavius

Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

Second Commoner

Truly, Sir, all that I live by is with the awl; I meddle with no tradesman’s matters, nor women’s matters, but withawl. I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat’s leather have gone upon my handiwork

Flavius

But wherefore art not in thy shop today?

Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

Second Commoner

Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes to get myself into more work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph

Marullus

Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome

To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?

You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!

O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,

Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft

Have you climb’d up to walls and battlements,

To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops,

Your infants in your arms, and there have sat

The livelong day with patient expectation

To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome

And when you saw his chariot but appear,

Have you not made an universal shout

That Tiber trembled underneath her banks

To hear the replication of your sounds

Made in her concave shores?

And do you now put on your best attire?

And do you now cull out a holiday?

And do you now strew flowers in his way

That comes in triumph over Pompey’s blood?

Be gone!

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,

Pray to the gods to intermit the plague

That needs must light on this ingratitude

Flavius

Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,

Assemble all the poor men of your sort,

Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears

Into the channel, till the lowest stream

Do kiss the most exalted shores of all

Exeunt all Commoners

See whether their basest metal be not moved;

They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness

Go you down that way towards the Capitol;

This way will I.

Disrobe the images

If you do find them deck’d with ceremonies

Marullus

May we do so?

You know it is the feast of Lupercal

Flavius

It is no matter; let no images

Be hung with Caesar’s trophies. I’ll about

And drive away the vulgar from the streets;

So do you too, where you perceive them thick

These growing feathers pluck’d from Caesar’s wing

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,

Who else would soar above the view of men

And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

Exeunt

Scene II

A public place

Flourish. Enter Caesar; Antony, for the course; Calpurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd follows, among them a Soothsayer

Caesar

Calpurnia!

Casca

Peace, ho! Caesar speaks

Music ceases

Caesar

Calpurnia!

Calpurnia

Here, my lord

Caesar

Stand you directly in Antonio’s way,

When he doth run his course. Antonio!

Antony

Caesar, my lord?

Caesar

Forget not in your speed, Antonio,

To touch Calpurnia, for our elders say

The barren, touched in this holy chase,

Shake off their sterile curse

Antony

I shall remember

When Caesar says “Do this,” it is perform’d

Caesar

Set on, and leave no ceremony out.

Flourish

Soothsayer

Caesar!

Caesar

Ha! Who calls?

Casca

Bid every noise be still. Peace yet again!

Caesar

Who is it in the press that calls on me?

I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

Cry “Caesar.” Speak, Caesar is turn’d to hear

Soothsayer

Beware the ides of March

Caesar

What man is that?

Brutus

A soothsayer you beware the ides of March

Caesar

Set him before me let me see his face

Cassius

Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar

Caesar

What say’st thou to me now? Speak once again

Soothsayer

Beware the ides of March

Caesar

He is a dreamer; let us leave him. Pass

Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius

Cassius

Will you go see the order of the course?

Brutus

Not I

Cassius

I pray you, do

Brutus

I am not gamesome; I do lack some part

Of that quick spirit that is in Antony

Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;

I’ll leave you

Cassius

Brutus, I do observe you now of late;

I have not from your eyes that gentleness

And show of love as I was wont to have;

You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand

Over your friend that loves you

Brutus

Cassius,

Be not deceived; if I have veil’d my look,

I turn the trouble of my countenance

Merely upon myself. Vexed I am

Of late with passions of some difference,

Conceptions only proper to myself,

Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviours;

But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-

Among which number, Cassius, be you one-

Nor construe any further my neglect

Than that poor Brutus with himself at war

Forgets the shows of love to other men

Cassius

Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,

By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

Brutus

No, Cassius, for the eye sees not itself

But by reflection, by some other things

Cassius

‘Tis just,

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,

That you have no such mirrors as will turn

Your hidden worthiness into your eye

That you might see your shadow. I have heard

Where many of the best respect in Rome,

Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus

And groaning underneath this age’s yoke,

Have wish’d 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

And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus;

Were I a common laugher, or did use

To stale with ordinary oaths my love

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

Brutus

What means this shouting? I do fear the people

Choose 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’ the other

And I will look on both indifferently

For let the gods so speed me as I love

The name of honour more than I fear death

Cassius

I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,

As well as I do know your outward favour

Well, honour is the subject of my story

I cannot tell what you and other men

Think of this life, but, for my single self,

I had as lief not be as live to be

In awe of such a thing as I myself

I was born free as Caesar, so were you;

We both have fed as well, and we can both

Endure the winter’s cold as well as he

For once, upon a raw and gusty day,

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,

Caesar said to me, “Darest thou, Cassius, now

Leap in with me into this angry flood

And swim to yonder point?” Upon the word,

Accoutred as I was, I plunged in

And bade him follow. So indeed he did

The torrent roar’d, and we did buffet it

With lusty sinews, throwing it aside

And stemming it with hearts of controversy

But ere we could arrive the point proposed,

Caesar cried, “Help me, Cassius, or I sink!

I, as Aeneas our great ancestor

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder

The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber

Did I the tired Caesar. And this man

Is now become a god, and Cassius is

A wretched creature and must bend his body

If Caesar carelessly but nod on him

He had a fever when he was in Spain,

And when the fit was on him I did mark

How he did shake. ‘Tis true, this god did shake;

His coward lips did from their colour fly,

And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world

Did lose his luster. I did hear him groan

Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans

Mark him and write his speeches in their books,

Alas, it cried, “Give me some drink, Titinius,”

As a sick girl. Ye gods! It doth amaze me

A man of such a feeble temper should

So get the start of the majestic world

And bear the palm alone.

Shout. Flourish

Brutus

Another general shout!

I do believe that these applauses are

For some new honours that are heap’d on Caesar

Cassius

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world

Like a Colossus, and we petty men

Walk under his huge legs and peep about

To find ourselves dishonourable graves

Men at some time are masters of their fates:

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

But in ourselves that we are underlings

Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that “Caesar”?

Why should that name be sounded more than yours?

Write them together, yours is as fair a name;

Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;

Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with ‘em,

“Brutus” will start a spirit as soon as “Caesar.”

Now, in the names of all the gods at once,

Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed

That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!

When went there by an age since the great flood

But it was famed with more than with one man?

When could they say till now that talk’d of Rome

That her wide walls encompass’d but one man?

Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough,

When there is in it but one only man

O, you and I have heard our fathers say

There was a Brutus once that would have brook’d

The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome

As easily as a king

Brutus

That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;

What you would work me to, I have some aim

How I have thought of this and of these times,

I shall recount hereafter; for this present,

I would not, so with love I might entreat you,

Be any further moved. What you have said

I will consider; what you have to say

I will with patience hear, and find a time

Both meet to hear and answer such high things

Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this:

Brutus had rather be a villager

Than to repute himself a son of Rome

Under these hard conditions as this time

Is like to lay upon us

Cassius

I am glad that my weak words

Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus

Re-enter Caesar and his Train

Brutus

The games are done, and Caesar is returning

Cassius

As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve,

And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you

What hath proceeded worthy note today

Brutus

I will do so. But, look you, Cassius,

The angry spot doth glow on Caesar’s brow,

And all the rest look like a chidden train:

Calpurnia’s cheek is pale, and Cicero

Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes

As we have seen him in the Capitol,

Being cross’d in conference by some senators

Cassius

Casca will tell us what the matter is

Caesar

Antonio!

Antony

Caesar?

Caesar

Let me have men about me that are fat,

Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o’ nights:

Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;

He thinks too much; such men are dangerous

Antony

Fear him not, Caesar; he’s not dangerous;

He is a noble Roman and well given

Caesar

Would he were fatter! But I fear him not,

Yet if my name were liable to fear,

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, Antony; he hears no music;

Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort

As if he mock’d himself and scorn’d 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

I rather tell thee what is to be fear’d

Than what I fear, for always I am Caesar

Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,

And tell me truly what thou think’st of him

Sennet. Exeunt Caesar and all his Train but Casca

Casca

You pull’d me by the cloak; would you speak with me?

Brutus

Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanced today

That Caesar looks so sad

Casca

Why, you were with him, were you not?

Brutus

I should not then ask Casca what had chanced

Casca

Why, there was a crown offered him, and being offered him,

he put it by with the back of his hand, thus, and then the

people fell ashouting

Brutus

What was the second noise for?

Casca

Why, for that too

Cassius

They shouted thrice. What was the last cry for?

Casca

Why, for that too

Brutus

Was the crown offered him thrice?

Casca

Ay, marry, wast, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other, and at every putting by mine honest neighbours shouted

Cassius

Who offered him the crown?

Casca

Why, Antony

Brutus

Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca

Casca

I can as well be hang’d as tell the manner of it. It was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown (yet ‘twas not a crown neither, ‘twas one of these coronets) and, as I told you, he put it by once. But for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again; then he put it by again. But, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by; and still as he refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their chopped hands and threw up their sweaty nightcaps and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked Caesar, for he swounded and fell down at it. And for mine own part, I durst not laugh for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air

Cassius

But, soft, I pray you, what, did Caesar’s wound?

Casca

He fell down in the marketplace and foamed at mouth and was speechless

Brutus

‘Tis very like. He hath the falling sickness

Cassius

No, Caesar hath it not, but you, and I,

And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness

Casca

I know not what you mean by that, but I am sure Caesar fell down. If the tagrag people did not clap him and hiss him according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man

Brutus

What said he when he came unto himself?

Casca

Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut. An had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, if he had done or said anything amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches where I stood cried, “Alas, good soul!” and forgave him with all their hearts. But there’s no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less

Brutus

And after that he came, thus sad, away?

Casca

Ay

Cassius

Did Cicero say anything?

Casca

Ay, he spoke Greek

Cassius

To what effect?

Casca

Nay, an I tell you that, I’ll ne’er look you I’ the face again; but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Caesar’s images, are put to silence. Fare you well

There was more foolery yet, if could remember it

Cassius

Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?

Casca

No, I am promised forth

Cassius

Will you dine with me tomorrow?

Casca

Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the eating

Cassius

Good, I will expect you

Casca

Do so, farewell, both.

Exit

Brutus

What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!

He was quick mettle when he went to school

Cassius

So is he now in execution

Of any bold or noble enterprise,

However he puts on this tardy form

This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,

Which gives men stomach to digest his words

With better appetite

Brutus

And so it is. For this time I will leave you

Tomorrow, if you please to speak with me,

I will come home to you, or, if you will,

Come home to me and I will wait for you

Cassius

I will do so. Till then, think of the world

Exit Brutus

Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see

Thy honourable mettle may be wrought

From that it is disposed; therefore it is meet

That noble minds keep ever with their likes;

For who so firm that cannot be seduced?

Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus

If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,

He should not humour me. I will this night,

In several hands, in at his windows throw,

As if they came from several citizens,

Writings, all tending to the great opinion

That Rome holds of his name, wherein obscurely

Caesar’s ambition shall be glanced at

And after this let Caesar seat him sure;

For we will shake him, or worse days endure.

Exit

Scene III

A street. Thunder and lightning

Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero

Cicero

Good even, Casca. Brought you Caesar home?

Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?

Casca

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 rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen

The 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

Cicero

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 ha’ not since put up my sword-

Against the Capitol I met a lion,

Who glaz’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

Men all in fire walk up and down the streets

And yesterday the bird of night did sit

Even at noonday upon the marketplace,

Howling 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

Cicero

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?

Casca

He doth, for he did bid Antonio

Send word to you he would be there tomorrow

Cicero

Good then, Casca. This disturbed sky

Is not to walk in

Casca

Farewell, Cicero.

Exit Cicero

Enter Cassius

Cassius

Who’s there?

Casca

A Roman

Cassius

Casca, by your voice

Casca

Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!

Cassius

A very pleasing night to honest men

Casca

Who ever knew the heavens menace so?

Cassius

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 bared my bosom to the thunderstone;

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

Casca

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

Cassius

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 preformed faculties

To monstrous quality, why, you shall find

That heaven hath infused 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

Casca

‘Tis Caesar that you mean, is it not, Cassius?

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

Casca

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

Cassius

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. Thunder still

Casca

So can I

So every bondman in his own hand bears

The power to cancel his captivity

Cassius

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

Casca

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

Cassius

There’s a bargain made

Now know you, Casca, I have moved 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

Enter Cinna

Casca

Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste

Cassius

‘Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait;

He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?

Cinna

To find out you. Who’s that? Metellus Cimber?

Cassius

No, it is Casca, one incorporate

To our attempts. Am I not stay’d for, Cinna?

Cinna

I am glad on’t. What a fearful night is this!

There’s two or three of us have seen strange sights

Cassius

Am I not stay’d for? Tell me

Cinna

Yes, you are

O Cassius, if you could

But win the noble Brutus to our party-

Cassius

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?

Cinna

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

Cassius

That done, repair to Pompey’s Theatre

Exit Cinna

Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day

See Brutus at his house. Three parts of him

Is ours already, and the man entire

Upon the next encounter yields him ours

Casca

O, he sits high in all the people’s hearts,

And that which would appear offense in us,

His countenance, like richest alchemy,

Will change to virtue and to worthiness

Cassius

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.

Exeunt

Act II

Scene I

Enter Brutus in his orchard

Brutus

What, Lucius, ho!

I cannot, by the progress of the stars,

Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say!

I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly

When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say! What, Lucius!

Enter Lucius

Lucius

Call’d you, my lord?

Brutus

Get me a taper in my study, Lucius

When it is lighted, come and call me here

Lucius

I will, my lord.

Exit

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 crown’d:

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 him

That at his will he may do danger with

The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins

Remorse from power, and, to speak truth of Caesar,

I have not known when his affections sway’d

More than his reason. But ‘tis a common proof

That 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 degrees

By which he did ascend. So Caesar may;

Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel

Will 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 egg

Which hatch’d would as his kind grow mischievous,

And kill him in the shell

Re-enter Lucius

Lucius

The taper burneth in your closet, sir

Searching the window for a flint I found

This paper thus seal’d up, and I am sure

It did not lie there when I went to bed

Gives him the letter

Brutus

Get you to bed again, it is not day

Is not tomorrow, boy, the ides of March?

Lucius

I know not, sir

Brutus

Look in the calendar and bring me word

Lucius

I will, sir.

Exit

Brutus

The exhalations whizzing in the air

Give so much light that I may read by them

Opens the letter and reads

“Brutus, thou sleep’st: awake and see thyself!

Shall Rome, etc. Speak, strike, redress!”

“Brutus, thou sleep’st: awake!”

Such instigations have been often dropp’d

Where I have took them up

“Shall Rome, etc.” Thus must I piece it out

Shall Rome stand under one man’s awe? What, Rome?

My ancestors did from the streets of Rome

The Tarquin drive, when he was call’d a king

“Speak, strike, redress!” Am I entreated

To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,

If the redress will follow, thou receivest

Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!

Re-enter Lucius

Lucius

Sir, March is wasted fifteen days

Knocking within

Brutus

‘Tis good. Go to the gate, somebody knocks

Exit Lucius

Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar

I have not slept

Between the acting of a dreadful thing

And the first motion, all the interim is

Like a phantasma or a hideous dream;

The genius and the mortal instruments

Are then in council, and the state of man,

Like to a little kingdom, suffers then

The nature of an insurrection

Re-enter Lucius

Lucius

Sir, ‘tis your brother Cassius at the door,

Who doth desire to see you

Brutus

Is he alone?

Lucius

No, sir, there are more with him

Brutus

Do you know them?

Lucius

No, sir, their hats are pluck’d about their ears,

And half their faces buried in their cloaks,

That by no means I may discover them

By any mark of favour

Brutus

Let ‘em enter.

Exit Lucius

They are the faction. O Conspiracy,

Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,

When evils are most free? O, then, by day

Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough

To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, Conspiracy;

Hide it in smiles and affability;

For if thou path, thy native semblance on,

Not Erebus itself were dim enough

To hide thee from prevention

Enter the conspirators, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and Trebonius

Cassius

I think we are too bold upon your rest

Good morrow, Brutus, do we trouble you?

Brutus

I have been up this hour, awake all night

Know I these men that come along with you?

Cassius

Yes, every man of them, and no man here

But honours you, and every one doth wish

You had but that opinion of yourself

Which every noble Roman bears of you

This is Trebonius

Brutus

He is welcome hither

Cassius

This, Decius Brutus

Brutus

He is welcome too

Cassius. This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber

Brutus

They are all welcome

What watchful cares do interpose themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

Cassius

Shall I entreat a word?

They whisper

Decius

Here lies the east. Doth not the day break here?

Casca

No

Cinna

O, pardon, sir, it doth, and yongrey lines

That fret the clouds are messengers of day

Casca

You shall confess that you are both deceived

Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises,

Which is a great way growing on the south,

Weighing the youthful season of the year

Some two months hence up higher toward the north

He first presents his fire, and the high east

Stands as the Capitol, directly here

Brutus

Give me your hands all over, one by one

Cassius

And let us swear our resolution

Brutus

No, not an oath. If not the face of men,

The sufferance of our souls, the time’s abuse-

If these be motives weak, break off betimes,

And every man hence to his idle bed;

So let high-sighted tyranny range on

Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,

As I am sure they do, bear fire enough

To kindle cowards and to steel with valour

The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen,

What need we any spur but our own cause

To prick us to redress? What other bond

Than secret Romans that have spoke the word

And will not palter? And what other oath

Than honesty to honesty engaged

That this shall be or we will fall for it?

Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous,

Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls

That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear

Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain

The even virtue of our enterprise,

Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits,

To think that or our cause or our performance

Did need an oath; when every drop of blood

That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,

Is guilty of a several bastardy

If he do break the smallest particle

Of any promise that hath pass’d from him

Cassius

But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?

I think he will stand very strong with us

Casca

Let us not leave him out

Cinna

No, by no means

Metellus

O, let us have him, for his silver hairs

Will purchase us a good opinion,

And buy men’s voices to commend our deeds

It shall be said his judgement ruled our hands;

Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,

But all be buried in his gravity

Brutus

O, name him not; let us not break with him,

For he will never follow anything

That other men begin

Cassius

Then leave him out

Casca

Indeed he is not fit

Decius

Shall no man else be touch’d but only Caesar?

Cassius

Decius, well urged. I think it is not meet

Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar,

Should outlive Caesar. We shall find of him

A shrewd contriver; and you know his means,

If he improve them, may well stretch so far

As to annoy us all, which to prevent,

Let Antony and Caesar fall together

Brutus

Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,

To cut the head off and then hack the limbs

Like wrath in death and envy afterwards;

For Antony is but a limb of Caesar

Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius

We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar,

And in the spirit of men there is no blood

O, that we then could come by Caesar’s spirit,

And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,

Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,

Let’s kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;

Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods,

Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds;

And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,

Stir up their servants to an act of rage

And after seem to chide ‘em. This shall make

Our purpose necessary and not envious,

Which so appearing to the common eyes,

We shall be call’d purgers, not murderers

And for Mark Antony, think not of him,

For he can do no more than Caesar’s arm

When Caesar’s head is off

Cassius

Yet I fear him,

For in the ingrated love he bears to Caesar-

Brutus

Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him

If he love Caesar, all that he can do

Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar

And that were much he should, for he is given

To sports, to wildness, and much company

Trebonius

There is no fear in him-let him not die,

For he will live and laugh at this hereafter

Clock strikes

Brutus

Peace, count the clock

Cassius

The clock hath stricken three

Trebonius

‘Tis time to part

Cassius

But it is doubtful yet

Whether Caesar will come forth today or no,

For he is superstitious grown of late,

Quite from the main opinion he held once

Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies

It may be these apparent prodigies,

The unaccustom’d terror of this night,

And the persuasion of his augurers

May hold him from the Capitol today

Decius

Never fear that. If he be so resolved,

I can o’ersway him, for he loves to hear

That unicorns may be betray’d with trees,

And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,

Lions with toils, and men with flatterers;

But when I tell him he hates flatterers,

He says he does, being then most flattered

Let me work;

For I can give his humour the true bent,

And I will bring him to the Capitol

Cassius

Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him

Brutus

By the eighth hour. Is that the utter most?

Cinna

Be that the uttermost, and fail not then

Metellus

Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard,

Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey

I wonder none of you have thought of him

Brutus

Now, good Metellus, go along by him

He loves me well, and I have given him reasons;

Send him but hither, and I’ll fashion him

Cassius

The morning comes upon ‘s. We’ll leave you, Brutus,

And, friends, disperse yourselves, but all remember

What you have said and show yourselves true Romans

Brutus

Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;

Let not our looks put on our purposes,

But bear it as our Roman actors do,

With untired spirits and formal constancy

And so, good morrow to you every one

Exeunt all but Brutus

Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter

Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber;

Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,

Which busy care draws in the brains of men;

Therefore thou sleep’st so sound

Enter Portia

Portia

Brutus, my lord!

Brutus

Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now?

It is not for your health thus to commit

Your weak condition to the raw cold morning

Portia

Nor for yours neither. Have ungently, Brutus,

Stole from my bed; and yesternight at supper

You suddenly arose and walk’d about,

Musing and sighing, with your arms across;

And when I ask’d you what the matter was,

You stared upon me with ungentle looks

I urged you further; then you scratch’d your head,

And too impatiently stamp’d with your foot

Yet I insisted, yet you answer’d not,

But with an angry waiter of your hand

Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did,

Fearing to strengthen that impatience

Which seem’d too much enkindled, and withal

Hoping 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 shape

As it hath much prevail’d 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

Brutus

Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed

Portia

Is Brutus sick, and is it physical

To walk unbraced and suck up the humours

Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,

And will he steal out of his wholesome bed

To dare the vile contagion of the night

And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air

To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus,

You have some sick offense within your mind,

Which by the right and virtue of my place

I ought to know of; and, upon my knees,

I charm you, by my once commended beauty,

By all your vows of love and that great vow

Which did incorporate and make us one,

That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,

Why you are heavy and what men tonight

Have had resort to you; for here have been

Some six or seven, who did hide their faces

Even from darkness

Brutus

Kneel not, gentle Portia

Portia

I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus

Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,

Is it excepted I should know no secrets

That appertain to you? Am I yourself

But, as it were, in sort or limitation,

To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,

And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs

Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,

Portia is Brutus’ harlot, not his wife

Brutus

You are my true and honourable wife,

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

That visit my sad heart

Portia

If this were true, then should I know this secret

I grant I am a woman, but withal

A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife

I grant I am a woman, but withal

A woman well reputed, Cato’s daughter

Think you I am no stronger than my sex,

Being so father’d and so husbanded?

Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose ‘em

I have made strong proof of my constancy,

Giving myself a voluntary wound

Here in the thigh. Can I bear that with patience

And not my husband’s secrets?

Brutus

O ye gods,

Render me worthy of this noble wife! Knocking within

Hark, hark, one knocks. Portia, go in awhile,

And by and by thy bosom shall partake

The secrets of my heart

All my engagements I will construe to thee,

All the charactery of my sad brows

Leave me with haste. [Exit Portia] Lucius, who’s that knocks?

Re-enter Lucius with Ligarius

Lucius

Here is a sick man that would speak with you

Brutus

Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of

Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?

Ligarius

Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue

Brutus

O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,

To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!

Ligarius

I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand

Any exploit worthy the name of honour

Brutus

Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,

Had you a healthful ear to hear of it

Ligarius

By all the gods that Romans bow before,

I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome!

Brave son, derived from honourable loins!

Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up

My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,

And I will strive with things impossible,

Yea, get the better of them. What’s to do?

Brutus

A piece of work that will make sick men whole

Ligarius

But are not some whole that we must make sick?

Brutus

That must we also. What it is, my Caius,

I shall unfold to thee, as we are going

To whom it must be done

Ligarius

Set on your foot,

And with a heart new-fired I follow you,

To do I know not what; but it sufficeth

That Brutus leads me on

Brutus

Follow me then.

Exeunt

Scene II

Caesar’s house. Thunder and lightning

Enter Caesar, in his nightgown

Caesar

Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace tonight

Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out,

“Help, ho! They murther Caesar!” Who’s within?

Enter a Servant

Servant

My lord?

Caesar

Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,

And bring me their opinions of success

Servant

I will, my lord.

Exit

Enter Calpurnia

Calpurnia

What mean you, Caesar? Think you to walk forth?

You shall not stir out of your house today

Caesar

Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten’d me

Ne’er look’d but on my back; when they shall see

The face of Caesar, they are vanished

Calpurnia

Caesar, I stood on ceremonies,

Yet now they fright me. There is one within,

Besides the things that we have heard and seen,

Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch

A lioness hath whelped in the streets;

And graves have yawn’d, and yielded up their dead;

Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds,

In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,

Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol;

The noise of battle hurtled in the air,

Horses did neigh and dying men did groan,

And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets

O Caesar! These things are beyond all use,

And I do fear them

Caesar

What can be avoided

Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?

Yet Caesar shall go forth, for these predictions

Are to the world in general as to Caesar

Calpurnia

When beggars die, there are no comets seen;

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes

Caesar

Cowards die many times before their deaths;

The valiant never taste of death but once

Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,

It seems to me most strange that men should fear

Seeing that death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come

Re-enter Servant

What say the augurers?

Servant

They would not have you to stir forth today

Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,

They could not find a heart within the beast

Caesar

The gods do this in shame of cowardice

Caesar should be a beast without a heart

If he should stay at home today for fear

No, Caesar shall not. Danger knows full well

That Caesar is more dangerous than he

We are two lions litter’d in one day,

And I the elder and more terrible

And Caesar shall go forth

Calpurnia

Alas, my lord,

Your wisdom is consumed in confidence

Do not go forth today. Call it my fear

That keeps you in the house and not your own

We’ll send Mark Antony to the Senate House,

And he shall say you are not well today

Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this

Caesar

Mark Antony shall say I am not well,

And, for thy humour, I will stay at home

Enter Decius

Here’s Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so

Decius

Caesar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar!

I come to fetch you to the Senate House

Caesar

And you are come in very happy time

To bear my greeting to the senators

And tell them that I will not come today

Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser:

I will not come today. Tell them so, Decius

Calpurnia

Say he is sick

Caesar

Shall Caesar send a lie?

Have I in conquest stretch’d mine arm so far

To be afeard to tell greybeards the truth?

Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come

Decius

Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,

Lest I be laugh’d at when I tell them so

Caesar

The cause is in my will: I will not come,

That is enough to satisfy the Senate

But, for your private satisfaction,

Because I love you, I will let you know

Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home;

She dreamt tonight she saw my statue,

Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts,

Did run pure blood, and many lusty Romans

Came smiling and did bathe their hands in it

And these does she apply for warnings and portents

And evils imminent, and on her knee

Hath begg’d that I will stay at home today

Decius

This dream is all amiss interpreted;

It was a vision fair and fortunate

Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,

In which so many smiling Romans bathed,

Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck

Reviving blood, and that great men shall press

For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance

This by Calpurnia’s dream is signified

Caesar

And this way have you well expounded it

Decius

I have, when you have heard what I can say

And know it now, the Senate have concluded

To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar

If you shall send them word you will not come,

Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock

Apt to be render’d, for someone to say

“Break up the Senate till another time,

When Caesar’s wife shall meet with better dreams.”

If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper

“Lo, Caesar is afraid”?

Pardon me, Caesar, for my dear dear love

To your proceeding bids me tell you this,

And reason to my love is liable

Caesar

How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia!

I am ashamed I did yield to them

Give me my robe, for I will go

Enter Publius, Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca, Trebonius, and Cinna

And look where Publius is come to fetch me

Publius

Good morrow, Caesar

Caesar

Welcome, Publius

What, Brutus, are you stirr’d so early too?

Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,

Caesar was ne’er so much your enemy

As that same ague which hath made you lean

What is’t o’clock?

Brutus

Caesar, ‘tis strucken eight

Caesar

I thank you for your pains and courtesy

Enter Antony

See, Antony, that revels long o’ nights,

Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony

Antony

So to most noble Caesar

Caesar

Bid them prepare within

I am to blame to be thus waited for

Now, Cinna; now, Metellus; what, Trebonius,

I have an hour’s talk in store for you;

Remember that you call on me today;

Be near me, that I may remember you

Trebonius

Caesar, I will. [Aside] And so near will I be

That your best friends shall wish I had been further

Caesar

Good friends, go in and taste some wine with me,

And we like friends will straightway go together

Brutus

[Aside] That every like is not the same, O Caesar,

The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon!

Exeunt

Scene III

A street near the Capitol

Enter Artemidorus, reading paper

Artemidorus

“Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark well Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hastwronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men,and it is bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you. Security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee!

Thy lover, Artemidorus.”

Here will I stand till Caesar pass along,

And as a suitor will I give him this

My heart laments that virtue cannot live

Out of the teeth of emulation

If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live;

If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.

Exit

Scene IV

Another part of the same street, before the house of Brutus

Enter Portia and Lucius

Portia

I prithee, boy, run to the Senate House;

Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone

Why dost thou stay?

Lucius

To know my errand, madam

Portia

I would have had thee there, and here again,

Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there

O constancy, be strong upon my side!

Set a huge mountain ‘tween my heart and tongue!

I have a man’s mind, but a woman’s might

How hard it is for women to keep counsel!

Art thou here yet?

Lucius

Madam, what should I do?

Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?

And so return to you, and nothing else?

Portia

Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,

For he went sickly forth; and take good note

What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him

Hark, boy, what noise is that?

Lucius

I hear none, madam

Portia

Prithee, listen well

I heard a bustling rumour like a fray,

And the wind brings it from the Capitol

Lucius

Sooth, madam, I hear nothing

Enter the Soothsayer

Portia

Come hither, fellow;

Which way hast thou been?

Soothsayer

At mine own house, good lady

Portia

What is’t o’clock?

Soothsayer

About the ninth hour, lady

Portia

Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?

Soothsayer

Madam, not yet. I go to take my stand

To see him pass on to the Capitol

Portia

Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?

Soothsayer

That I have, lady. If it will please Caesar

To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,

I shall beseech him to befriend himself

Portia

Why, know’st thou any harm’s intended towards him?

Soothsayer

None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance

Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow,

The throng that follows Caesar at the heels,

Of senators, of praetors, common suitors,

Will crowd a feeble man almost to death

I’ll get me to a place more void and there

Speak to great Caesar as he comes along.

Portia

I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing

The heart of woman is! O Brutus,

The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!

Sure, the boy heard me. Brutus hath a suit

That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint

Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;

Say I am merry. Come to me again,

And bring me word what he doth say to thee

Exeunt severally

Act III

Scene I

Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above

A crowd of people, among them Artemidorus and the Soothsayer

Flourish. Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cassius, Casca,

Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, Lepidus,

Popilius, Publius, and others

Caesar

The ides of March are come

Soothsayer

Ay, Caesar, but not gone

A Hail, Caesar! Read this schedule

Decius

Trebonius doth desire you to o’er read,

At your best leisure, this his humble suit

Artemidorus

O Caesar, read mine first, for mine’s a suit

That touches Caesar nearer. Read it, great Caesar

Caesar

What touches us ourself shall be last served

Artemidorus

Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly

Caesar

What, is the fellow mad?

Publius

Sirrah, give place

Cassius

What, urge you your petitions in the street?

Come to the Capitol

Caesar goes up to the Senate House, the rest follow

Popilius

I wish your enterprise today may thrive

Cassius

What enterprise, Popilius?

Popilius

Fare you well

Advances to Caesar

Brutus

What said Popilius Lena?

Cassius

He wish’d today our enterprise might thrive

I fear our purpose is discovered

Brutus

Look, how he makes to Caesar. Mark him

Cassius

Casca,

Be sudden, for we fear prevention

Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,

Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back,

For I will slay myself

Brutus

Cassius, be constant

Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;

For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change

Cassius

Trebonius knows his time, for, look you, Brutus,

He draws Mark Antony out of the way

Exeunt Antony and Trebonius

Decius

Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him

And presently prefer his suit to Caesar

Brutus

He is address’d; press near and second him

Cinna

Casca, you are the first that rears your hand

Caesar

Are we all ready? What is now amiss

That Caesar and his Senate must redress?

Metellus

Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar,

Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat

An humble heart.

Caesar

I must prevent thee, Cimber

These couchings and these lowly courtesies

Might fire the blood of ordinary men

And turn preordinance and first decree

Into the law of children. Be not fond

To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood

That will be thaw’d from the true quality

With that which melteth fools- I mean sweet words,

Low-crooked court’sies, and base spaniel-fawning

Thy brother by decree is banished

If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him,

I spurn thee like a cur out of my way

Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause

Will he be satisfied

Metellus

Is there no voice more worthy than my own,

To sound more sweetly in great Caesar’s ear

For the repealing of my banish’d brother?

Brutus

I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar,

Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may

Have an immediate freedom of repeal

Caesar

What, Brutus?

Cassius

Pardon, Caesar! Caesar, pardon!

As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall

To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber

Caesar

I could be well moved, if I were as you;

If I could pray to move, prayers would move me;

But I am constant as the northern star,

Of whose true-fix’d and resting quality

There is no fellow in the firmament

The skies are painted with unnumber’d sparks;

They are all fire and every one doth shine;

But there’s but one in all doth hold his place

So in the world, ‘tis furnish’d well with men,

And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive;

Yet in the number I do know but one

That unassailable holds on his rank,

Unshaked of motion; and that I am he,

Let me a little show it, even in this;

That I was constant Cimber should be banish’d,

And constant do remain to keep him so

Cinna

O Caesar-

Caesar

Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus?

Decius

Great Caesar-

Caesar

Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?

Casca

Speak, hands, for me!

Casca first, then the other Conspirators

and Marcus Brutus stab Caesar

Caesar

Et tu, Brute?- Then fall, Caesar!

Dies

Cinna

Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!

Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets

Cassius

Some to the common pulpits and cry out

“Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!”

Brutus

People and senators, be not affrighted,

Fly not, stand still; ambition’s debt is paid

Casca

Go to the pulpit, Brutus

Decius

And Cassius too

Brutus

Where’s Publius?

Cinna

Here, quite confounded with this mutiny

Metellus

Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar’s

Should chance-

Brutus

Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer,

There is no harm intended to your person,

Nor to no Roman else. So tell them, Publius

Cassius

And leave us, Publius, lest that the people

Rushing on us should do your age some mischief

Brutus

Do so, and let no man abide this deed

But we the doers

Re-enter Trebonius

Cassius

Where is Antony?

Trebonius

Fled to his house amazed

Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run

As it were doomsday

Brutus

Fates, we will know your pleasures

That we shall die, we know; ‘tis but the time

And drawing days out that men stand upon

Cassius

Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life

Cuts off so many years of fearing death

Brutus

Grant that, and then is death a benefit;

So are we Caesar’s friends that have abridged

His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,

And let us bathe our hands in Caesar’s blood

Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords;

Then walk we forth, even to the marketplace,

And waving our red weapons o’er our heads,

Let’s all cry, “Peace, freedom, and liberty!”

Cassius

Stoop then, and wash. How many ages hence

Shall this our lofty scene be acted over

In states unborn and accents yet unknown!

Brutus

How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,

That now on Pompey’s basis lies along

No worthier than the dust!

Cassius

So oft as that shall be,

So often shall the knot of us be call’d

The men that gave their country liberty

Decius

What, shall we forth?

Cassius

Ay, every man away

Brutus shall lead, and we will grace his heels

With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome

Enter a Servant

Brutus

Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony’s

Servant

Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel,

Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down,

And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say:

Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest;

Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving

Say I love Brutus and I honour him;

Say I fear’d Caesar, honour’d him, and loved him

If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony

May safely come to him and be resolved

How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death,

Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead

So well as Brutus living, but will follow

The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus

Thorough the hazards of this untrod state

With all true faith. So says my master Antony

Brutus

Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;

I never thought him worse

Tell him, so please him come unto this place,

He shall be satisfied and, by my honour,

Depart untouch’d

Servant

I’ll fetch him presently.

Exit

Brutus

I know that we shall have him well to friend

Cassius

I wish we may, but yet have I a mind

That fears him much, and my misgiving still

Falls shrewdly to the purpose

Re-enter Antony

Brutus

But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony

Antony

O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lie so low?

Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,

Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well

I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,

Who else must be let blood, who else is rank

If I myself, there is no hour so fit

As Caesar’s death’s hour, nor no instrument

Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich

With the most noble blood of all this world

I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,

Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,

Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,

I shall not find myself so apt to die;

No place will please me so, no means of death,

As here by Caesar, and by you cut off,

The choice and master spirits of this age

Brutus

O Antony, beg not your death of us!

Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,

As, by our hands and this our present act

You see we do, yet see you but our hands

And this the bleeding business they have done

Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful;

And pity to the general wrong of Rome-

As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-

Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,

To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony;

Our arms in strength of malice, and our hearts

Of brothers’ temper, do receive you in

With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence

Cassius

Your voice shall be as strong as any man’s

In the disposing of new dignities

Brutus

Only be patient till we have appeased

The multitude, beside themselves with fear,

And then we will deliver you the cause

Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him,

Have thus proceeded

Antony

I doubt not of your wisdom

Let each man render me his bloody hand

First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;

Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand;

Now, Decius Brutus, yours; now yours, Metellus;

Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours;

Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius

Gentlemen all- alas, what shall I say?

My credit now stands on such slippery ground,

That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,

Either a coward or a flatterer

That I did love thee, Caesar, O, ‘tis true!

If then thy spirit look upon us now,

Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death

To see thy Antony making his peace,

Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,

Most noble! In the presence of thy corse?

Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,

Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,

It would become me better than to close

In terms of friendship with thine enemies

Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay’d, brave hart,

Here didst thou fall, and here thy hunters stand,

Sign’d in thy spoil, and crimson’d in thy Lethe

O world, thou wast the forest to this hart,

And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee

How like a deer strucken by many princes

Dost thou here lie!

Cassius

Mark Antony-

Antony

Pardon me, Caius Cassius

The enemies of Caesar shall say this:

Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty

Cassius

I blame you not for praising Caesar so;

But what compact mean you to have with us?

Will you be prick’d in number of our friends,

Or shall we on, and not depend on you?

Antony

Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed

Sway’d from the point by looking down on Caesar

Friends am I with you all and love you all,

Upon this hope that you shall give me reasons

Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous

Brutus

Or else were this a savage spectacle

Our reasons are so full of good regard

That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar,

You should be satisfied

Antony

That’s all I seek;

And am moreover suitor that I may

Produce his body to the marketplace,

And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend,

Speak in the order of his funeral

Brutus

You shall, Mark Antony

Cassius

Brutus, a word with you

[Aside to Brutus] You know not what you do. Do not consent

That Antony speak in his funeral

Know you how much the people may be moved

By that which he will utter?

Brutus

By your pardon,

I will myself into the pulpit first,

And show the reason of our Caesar’s death

What Antony shall speak, I will protest

He speaks by leave and by permission,

And that we are contented Caesar shall

Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies

It shall advantage more than do us wrong

Cassius

I know not what may fall; I like it not

Brutus

Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar’s body

You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,

But speak all good you can devise of Caesar,

And say you do’t by our permission,

Else shall you not have any hand at all

About his funeral. And you shall speak

In the same pulpit whereto I am going,

After my speech is ended

Antony

Be it so,

I do desire no more

Brutus

Prepare the body then, and follow us

Exeunt all but Antony

Antony

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,

That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!

Thou art the ruins of the noblest man

That ever lived in the tide of times

Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!

Over thy wounds now do I prophesy

(Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips

To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue)

A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;

Domestic fury and fierce civil strife

Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;

Blood and destruction shall be so in use,

And dreadful objects so familiar,

That mothers shall but smile when they behold

Their infants quarter’d with the hands of war;

All pity choked with custom of fell deeds,

And Caesar’s spirit ranging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice

Cry “Havoc!” and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial

Enter a Servant

You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?

Servant

I do, Mark Antony

Antony

Caesar did write for him to come to Rome

Servant

He did receive his letters, and is coming,

And bid me say to you by word of mouth-

O Caesar!

Antony

Thy heart is big; get thee apart and weep

Passion, I see, is catching, for mine eyes,

Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,

Began to water. Is thy master coming?

Servant

He lies tonight within seven leagues of Rome

Antony

Post back with speed and tell him what hath chanced

Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,

No Rome of safety for Octavius yet;

Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet stay awhile,

Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse

Into the marketplace. There shall I try,

In my oration, how the people take

The cruel issue of these bloody men,

According to the which thou shalt discourse

To young Octavius of the state of things

Lend me your hand.

Exeunt with Caesar’s body

Scene II

The Forum

Enter Brutus and Cassius, and a throng of Citizens

Citizens

We will be satisfied! Let us be satisfied!

Brutus

Then follow me and give me audience, friends

Cassius, go you into the other street

And part the numbers

Those that will hear me speak, let ‘em stay here;

Those that will follow Cassius, go with him;

And public reasons shall be rendered

Of Caesar’s death

First Citizen

I will hear Brutus speak

Second Citizen

I will hear Cassius and compare their reasons,

When severally we hear them rendered

Cassius, with some Citizens

Brutus goes into the pulpit

Third Citizen

The noble Brutus is ascended. Silence!

Brutus

Be patient till the last

Romans, countrymen, and lovers! Hear me for my cause, and besilent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honour, and haverespect to mine honour, that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar’s, to him I say that Brutus’ love to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead to live all freemen? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honour for his valour,and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be abondman? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a reply

All

None, Brutus, none

Brutus

Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol, his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy, nor his offenses enforced, for which he suffered death

Enter Antony and others, with Caesar’s body

Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony, who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth, as which of you shall not? With this I depart- that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death

All

Live, Brutus, live, live!

First Citizen

Bring him with triumph home unto his house

Second Citizen

Give him a statue with his ancestors

Third Citizen

Let him be Caesar

Fourth Citizen

Caesar’s better parts

Shall be crown’d in Brutus

First Citizen

We’ll bring him to his house with shouts and clamours

Brutus

My countrymen-

Second Citizen

Peace! Silence! Brutus speaks

First Citizen

Peace, ho!

Brutus

Good countrymen, let me depart alone,

And, for my sake, stay here with Antony

Do grace to Caesar’s corse, and grace his speech

Tending to Caesar’s glories, which Mark Antony,

By our permission, is allow’d to make

I do entreat you, not a man depart,

Save I alone, till Antony have spoke

First Citizen

Stay, ho, and let us hear Mark Antony

Third Citizen

Let him go up into the public chair;

We’ll hear him. Noble Antony, go up

Antony

For Brutus’ sake, I am beholding to you

Goes into the pulpit

Fourth Citizen

What does he say of Brutus?

Third Citizen

He says, for Brutus’ sake,

He finds himself beholding to us all

Fourth Citizen

‘Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here

First Citizen

This Caesar was a tyrant

Third Citizen

Nay, that’s certain

We are blest that Rome is rid of him

Second Citizen

Peace! Let us hear what Antony can say

Antony

You gentle Romans-

All

Peace, ho! Let us hear him

Antony

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him

The evil that men do lives after them,

The good is oft interred with their bones;

So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus

Hath told you Caesar was ambitious;

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it

Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest-

For Brutus is an honourable man;

So are they all, all honourable men-

Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral

He was my friend, faithful and just to me;

But Brutus says he was ambitious,

And Brutus is an honourable man

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,

Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill

Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept;

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious,

And Brutus is an honourable man

You all did see that on the Lupercal

I thrice presented him a kingly crown,

Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious,

And sure he is an honourable man

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,

But here I am to speak what I do know

You all did love him once, not without cause;

What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?

O judgement, thou art fled to brutish beasts,

And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;

My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,

And I must pause till it come back to me

First Citizen

Methinks there is much reason in his sayings

Second Citizen

If thou consider rightly of the matter,

Caesar has had great wrong

Third Citizen

Has he, masters?

I fear there will a worse come in his place

Fourth Citizen

Mark’d ye his words? He would not take the crown;

Therefore ‘tis certain he was not ambitious

First Citizen

If it be found so, some will dear abide it

Second Citizen

Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping

Third Citizen

There’s not a nobler man in Rome than Antony

Fourth Citizen

Now mark him, he begins again to speak

Antony

But yesterday the word of Caesar might

Have stood against the world. Now lies he there,

And none so poor to do him reverence

O masters! If I were disposed to stir

Your 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 choose

To 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 wounds

And 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 legacy

Unto their issue

Fourth Citizen

We’ll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony

All

The will, the will! We will hear Caesar’s will

Antony

Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;

It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you

You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;

And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar,

It will inflame you, it will make you mad

‘Tis good you know not that you are his heirs,

For if you should, O, what would come of it!

Fourth Citizen

Read the will; we’ll hear it, Antony

You shall read us the will, Caesar’s will

Antony

Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile?

I have o’ershot myself to tell you of it

I fear I wrong the honourable men

Whose daggers have stabb’d Caesar; I do fear it

Fourth Citizen

They were traitors. Honourable men!

All

The will! The testament!

Second Citizen

They were villains, murtherers. The will!

Read the will!

Antony

You will compel me then to read the will?

Then make a ring about the corse of Caesar,

And let me show you him that made the will

Shall I descend? And will you give me leave?

All

Come down

Second Citizen

Descend

Third Citizen

You shall have leave

Fourth Citizen

A ring, stand round

First Citizen

Stand from the hearse, stand from the body

Second Citizen

Room for Antony, most noble Antony

Antony

Nay, press not so upon me, stand far off

All

Stand back; room, bear back!

Antony

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now

You all do know this mantle. I remember

The first time ever Caesar put it on;

‘Twas on a summer’s evening, in his tent,

That day he overcame the Nervii

Look, in this place ran Cassius’ dagger through;

See what a rent the envious Casca made;

Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb’d;

And as he pluck’d his cursed steel away,

Mark how the blood of Caesar follow’d it,

As rushing out of doors, to be resolved

If Brutus so unkindly knock’d, or no;

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar’s angel

Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!

This was the most unkindest cut of all;

For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,

Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms,

Quite vanquish’d him. Then burst his mighty heart,

And, in his mantle muffling up his face,

Even at the base of Pompey’s statue,

Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell

O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!

Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,

Whilst bloody treason flourish’d over us

O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel

The dint of pity. These are gracious drops

Kind souls, what weep you when you but behold

Our Caesar’s vesture wounded? Look you here,

Here is himself, marr’d, as you see, with traitors

First Citizen

O piteous spectacle!

Second Citizen

O noble Caesar!

Third Citizen

O woeful day!

Fourth Citizen

O traitors villains!

First Citizen

O most bloody sight!

Second Citizen

We will be revenged

All

Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill!

Slay! Let not a traitor live!

Antony

Stay, countrymen

First Citizen

Peace there! Hear the noble Antony

Second Citizen

We’ll hear him, we’ll follow him, we’ll die with him

Antony

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up

To such a sudden flood of mutiny

They that have done this deed are honourable

What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,

That made them do it. They are wise and honourable,

And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you

I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts

I am no orator, as Brutus is;

But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,

That love my friend, and that they know full well

That gave me public leave to speak of him

For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,

Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,

To stir men’s blood. I only speak right on;

I tell you that which you yourselves do know;

Show you sweet Caesar’s wounds, poor dumb mouths,

And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus,

And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony

Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue

In every wound of Caesar that should move

The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny

All

We’ll mutiny

First Citizen

We’ll burn the house of Brutus

Third Citizen

Away, then! Come, seek the conspirators

Antony

Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak

All

Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony!

Antony

Why, friends, you go to do you know not what

Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?

Alas, you know not; I must tell you then

You have forgot the will I told you of

All

Most true, the will! Let’s stay and hear the will

Antony

Here is the will, and under Caesar’s seal

To every Roman citizen he gives,

To every several man, seventy-five drachmas

Second Citizen

Most noble Caesar! We’ll revenge his death

Third Citizen

O royal Caesar!

Antony

Hear me with patience

All

Peace, ho!

Antony

Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,

His private arbours, and new-planted orchards,

On this side Tiber; he hath left them you,

And to your heirs forever- common pleasures,

To walk abroad and recreate yourselves

Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?

First Citizen

Never, never. Come, away, away!

We’ll burn his body in the holy place

And with the brands fire the traitors’ houses

Take up the body

Second Citizen

Go fetch fire

Third Citizen

Pluck down benches

Fourth Citizen

Pluck down forms, windows, anything

Exeunt Citizens with the body

Antony

Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,

Take thou what course thou wilt

Enter a Servant

How now, fellow?

Servant

Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome

Antony

Where is he?

Servant

He and Lepidus are at Caesar’s house

Antony

And thither will I straight to visit him

He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,

And in this mood will give us anything

Servant

I heard him say Brutus and Cassius

Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome

Antony

Be like they had some notice of the people,

How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius.

Exeunt

Scene III

A street

Enter Cinna the poet

Cinna

I dreamt tonight that I did feast with Caesar,

And things unluckily charge my fantasy

I have no will to wander forth of doors,

Yet something leads me forth

Enter Citizens

First Citizen

What is your name?

Second Citizen

Whither are you going?

Third Citizen

Where do you dwell?

Fourth Citizen

Are you a married man or a bachelor?

Second Citizen

Answer every man directly

First Citizen

Ay, and briefly

Fourth Citizen

Ay, and wisely

Third Citizen

Ay, and truly, you were best

Cinna

What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I a married man or a bachelor? Then, to answer every man directly and briefly, wisely and truly: wisely I say, I am a bachelor

Second Citizen

That’s as much as to say they are fools that marry

You’ll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed directly

Cinna

Directly, I am going to Caesar’s funeral

First Citizen

As a friend or an enemy?

Cinna

As a friend

Second Citizen

That matter is answered directly

Fourth Citizen

For your dwelling, briefly

Cinna

Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol

Third Citizen

Your name, sir, truly

Cinna

Truly, my name is Cinna

First Citizen

Tear him to pieces, he’s a conspirator

Cinna

I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet

Fourth Citizen

Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses

Cinna

I am not Cinna the conspirator

Fourth Citizen

It is no matter, his name’s Cinna. Pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going

Third Citizen

Tear him, tear him! Come, brands, ho, firebrands. To

Brutus’, to Cassius’; burn all. Some to Decius’ house, and some to Casca’s, some to Ligarius’. Away, go!

Exeunt

Act IV

Scene I

A house in Rome. Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus, seated at a table

Antony

These many then shall die, their names are prick’d

Octavius

Your brother too must die; consent you, Lepidus?

Lepidus

I do consent-

Octavius

Prick him down, Antony

Lepidus

Upon condition Publius shall not live,

Who is your sister’s son, Mark Antony

Antony

He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him

But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar’s house,

Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine

How to cut off some charge in legacies

Lepidus

What, shall I find you here?

Octavius

Or here, or at the Capitol.

Exit Lepidus

Antony

This is a slight unmeritable man,

Meet to be sent on errands. Is it fit,

The three-fold world divided, he should stand

One of the three to share it?

Octavius

So you thought him,

And took his voice who should be prick’d to die

In our black sentence and proscription

Antony

Octavius, I have seen more days than you,

And though we lay these honours on this man

To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads,

He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold,

To groan and sweat under the business,

Either led or driven, as we point the way;

And having brought our treasure where we will,

Then take we down his load and turn him off,

Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears

And graze in commons

Octavius

You may do your will,

But he’s a tried and valiant soldier

Antony

So is my horse, Octavius, and for that

I do appoint him store of provender

It is a creature that I teach to fight,

To wind, to stop, to run directly on,

His corporal motion govern’d by my spirit

And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so:

He must be taught, and train’d, and bid go forth;

A barren-spirited fellow, one that feeds

On objects, arts, and imitations,

Which, out of use and staled by other men,

Begin his fashion. Do not talk of him

But as a property. And now, Octavius,

Listen great things. Brutus and Cassius

Are levying powers; we must straight make head;

Therefore let our alliance be combined,

Our best friends made, our means stretch’d;

And let us presently go sit in council,

How covert matters may be best disclosed,

And open perils surest answered

Octavius

Let us do so, for we are at the stake,

And bay’d about with many enemies;

And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear,

Millions of mischiefs.

Exeunt

Scene II

Camp near Sardis. Before Brutus’ tent. Drum

Enter Brutus, Lucilius, Lucius, and Soldiers; Titinius and Pindarus meet them

Brutus

Stand, ho!

Lucilius

Give the word, ho, and stand

Brutus

What now, Lucilius, is Cassius near?

Lucilius

He is at hand, and Pindarus is come

To do you salutation from his master

Brutus

He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus,

In his own change, or by ill officers,

Hath given me some worthy cause to wish

Things done undone; but if he be at hand,

I shall be satisfied

Pindarus

I do not doubt

But that my noble master will appear

Such as he is, full of regard and honour

Brutus

He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius,

How he received you. Let me be resolved

Lucilius

With courtesy and with respect enough,

But not with such familiar instances,

Nor with such free and friendly conference,

As he hath used of old

Brutus

Thou hast described

A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius,

When love begins to sicken and decay

It useth an enforced ceremony

There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;

But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,

Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;

But when they should endure the bloody spur,

They fall their crests and like deceitful jades

Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?

Lucilius

They meant his night in Sard is to be quarter’d;

The greater part, the horse in general,

Are come with Cassius. Low march within

Brutus

Hark, he is arrived

March gently on to meet him

Enter Cassius and his Powers

Cassius

Stand, ho!

Brutus

Stand, ho! Speak the word along

First Soldier

Stand!

Second Soldier

Stand!

Third Soldier

Stand!

Cassius

Most noble brother, you have done me wrong

Brutus

Judge me, you gods! Wrong I mine enemies?

And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?

Cassius

Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs,

And when you do them-

Brutus

Cassius, be content,

Speak your griefs softly, I do know you well

Before the eyes of both our armies here,

Which should perceive nothing but love from us,

Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away;

Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs,

And I will give you audience

Cassius

Pindarus,

Bid our commanders lead their charges off

A little from this ground

Brutus

Lucilius, do you the like, and let no man

Come to our tent till we have done our conference

Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.

Exeunt

Scene III

Brutus’ tent

Enter Brutus and Cassius

Cassius

That you have wrong’d me doth appear in this:

You have condemn’d and noted Lucius Pella

For taking bribes here of the Sardians,

Wherein my letters, praying on his side,

Because I knew the man, were slighted off

Brutus

You wrong’d yourself to write in such a case

Cassius

In such a time as this it is not meet

That every nice offense should bear his comment

Brutus

Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself

Are much condemn’d to have an itching palm,

To sell and mart your offices for gold

To undeservers

Cassius

I an itching palm?

You know that you are Brutus that speaks this,

Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last

Brutus

The name of Cassius honours this corruption,

And chastisement doth therefore hide his head

Cassius

Chastisement?

Brutus

Remember March, the ides of March remember

Did not great Julius bleed for justice’ sake?

What villain touch’d his body, that did stab,

And not for justice? What, shall one of us,

That struck the foremost man of all this world

But for supporting robbers, shall we now

Contaminate our fingers with base bribes

And sell the mighty space of our large honours

For so much trash as may be grasped thus?

I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,

Than such a Roman

Cassius

Brutus, bait not me,

I’ll not endure it. You forget yourself

To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I,

Older in practice, abler than yourself

To make conditions

Brutus

Go to, you are not, Cassius

Cassius

I am

Brutus

I say you are not

Cassius

Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;

Have mind upon your health, tempt me no farther

Brutus

Away, slight man!

Cassius

Is’t possible?

Brutus

Hear me, for I will speak

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?

Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

Cassius

O gods, ye gods! Must I endure all this?

Brutus

All this? Ay, more. Fret till your proud heart break

Go show your slaves how choleric you are,

And make your bondmen tremble. Must I bouge?

Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch

Under your testy humour? By the gods,

You shall digest the venom of your spleen,

Though it do split you, for, from this day forth,

I’ll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,

When you are waspish

Cassius

Is it come to this?

Brutus

You say you are a better soldier:

Let it appear so, make your vaunting true,

And it shall please me well. For mine own part,

I shall be glad to learn of noble men

Cassius

You wrong me every way, you wrong me, Brutus

I said, an elder soldier, not a better

Did I say “better”?

Brutus

If you did, I care not

Cassius

When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me

Brutus

Peace, peace! You durst not so have tempted him

Cassius

I durst not?

Brutus

No

Cassius

What, durst not tempt him?

Brutus

For your life you durst not

Cassius

Do not presume too much upon my love;

I may do that I shall be sorry for

Brutus

You have done that you should be sorry for

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats,

For I am arm’d so strong in honesty,

That they pass by me as the idle wind

Which I respect not. I did send to you

For certain sums of gold, which you denied me,

For I can raise no money by vile means

By heaven, I had rather coin my heart

And drop my blood for drachmas than to wring

From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash

By any indirection. I did send

To you for gold to pay my legions,

Which you denied me. Was that done like Cassius?

Should I have answer’d Caius Cassius so?

When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous

To lock such rascal counters from his friends,

Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,

Dash him to pieces!

Cassius

I denied you not

Brutus

You did

Cassius

I did not. He was but a fool

That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart

A friend should bear his friend’s infirmities,

But Brutus makes mine greater than they are

Brutus

I do not, till you practise them on me

Cassius

You love me not

Brutus

I do not like your faults

Cassius

A friendly eye could never see such faults

Brutus

A flatterer’s would not, though they do appear

As huge as high Olympus

Cassius

Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,

Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,

For Cassius is a weary of the world:

Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;

Check’d like a bondman; all his faults observed,

Set in a notebook, learn’d and conn’d by rote,

To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep

My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger,

And here my naked breast; within, a heart

Dearer than Pluto’s mine, richer than gold

If that thou best a Roman, take it forth;

I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart

Strike, as thou didst at Caesar, for I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better

Than ever thou lovedst Cassius

Brutus

Sheathe your dagger

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;

Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour

O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb,

That carries anger as the flint bears fire,

Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark

And straight is cold again

Cassius

Hath Cassius lived

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,

When grief and blood ill-temper’d vexeth him?

Brutus

When I spoke that, I was ill-temper’d too

Cassius

Do you confess so much? Give me your hand

Brutus

And my heart too

Cassius

O Brutus!

Brutus

What’s the matter?

Cassius

Have not you love enough to bear with me

When that rash humour which my mother gave me

Makes me forgetful?

Brutus

Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth,

When you are over earnest with your Brutus,

He’ll think your mother chides, and leave you so

Poet

[Within] Let me go in to see the generals

There is some grudge between ‘em, ‘tis not meet

They be alone

Lucilius

[Within] You shall not come to them

Poet

[Within] Nothing but death shall stay me

Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius

Cassius

How now, what’s the matter?

Poet

For shame, you generals! What do you mean?

Love, and be friends, as two such men should be;

For I have seen more years, I’m sure, than ye

Cassius

Ha, ha! How vilely doth this cynic rhyme!

Brutus

Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!

Cassius

Bear with him, Brutus; ‘tis his fashion

Brutus

I’ll know his humour when he knows his time What should the wars do with these jigging fools?

Companion, hence!

Cassius

Away, away, be gone!

Exit Poet

Brutus

Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders

Prepare to lodge their companies tonight

Cassius

And come yourselves and bring Messala with you

Immediately to us.

Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius

Brutus

Lucius, a bowl of wine!

Exit Lucius

Cassius

I did not think you could have been so angry

Brutus

O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs

Cassius

Of your philosophy you make no use,

If you give place to accidental evils

Brutus

No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead

Cassius

Ha? Portia?

Brutus

She is dead

Cassius

How ‘scaped killing when I cross’d you so?

O insupportable and touching loss!

Upon what sickness?

Brutus

Impatient of my absence,

And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony

Have made themselves so strong- for with her death

That tidings came- with this she fell distract,

And (her attendants absent) swallow’d fire

Cassius

And died so?

Brutus

Even so

Cassius

O ye immortal gods!

Re-enter Lucius, with wine and taper

Brutus

Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine

In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

Cassius

My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge

Fill, Lucius, till the wine o’erswell the cup;

I cannot drink too much of Brutus’ love.

Brutus

Come in, Titinius!

Exit Lucius

Re-enter Titinius, with Messala

Welcome, good Messala

Now sit we close about this taper here,

And call in question our necessities

Cassius

Portia, art thou gone?

Brutus

No more, I pray you

Messala, I have here received letters

That young Octavius and Mark Antony

Come down upon us with a mighty power,

Bending their expedition toward Philippi

Messala

Myself have letters of the selfsame tenure

Brutus

With what addition?

Messala

That by proscription and bills of outlawry

Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus

Have put to death an hundred senators

Brutus

There in our letters do not well agree;

Mine speak of seventy senators that died

By their proscriptions, Cicero being one

Cassius

Cicero one!

Messala

Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

Brutus

No, Messala

Messala

Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?

Brutus

Nothing, Messala

Messala

That, methinks, is strange

Brutus

Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours?

Messala

No, my lord

Brutus

Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true

Messala

Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell:

For certain she is dead, and by strange manner

Brutus

Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala

With meditating that she must die once

I have the patience to endure it now

Messala

Even so great men great losses should endure

Cassius

I have as much of this in art as you,

But yet my nature could not bear it so

Brutus

Well, to our work alive. What do you think

Of marching to Philippi presently?

Cassius

I do not think it good

Brutus

Your reason?

Cassius

This it is:

‘Tis better that the enemy seek us;

So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,

Doing himself offense, whilst we lying still

Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness

Brutus

Good reasons must of force give place to better

The people ‘twixt Philippi and this ground

Do stand but in a forced affection,

For they have grudged us contribution

The enemy, marching along by them,

By them shall make a fuller number up,

Come on refresh’d, new-added, and encouraged;

From which advantage shall we cut him off

If at Philippi we do face him there,

These people at our back

Cassius

Hear me, good brother

Brutus

Under your pardon. You must note beside

That we have tried the utmost of our friends,

Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe:

The enemy increaseth every day;

We, at the height, are ready to decline

There is a tide in the affairs of men

Which taken at the flood leads on to fortune;

Omitted, all the voyage of their life

Is bound in shallows and in miseries

On such a full sea are we now afloat,

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures

Cassius

Then, with your will, go on;

We’ll along ourselves and meet them at Philippi

Brutus

The deep of night is crept upon our talk,

And nature must obey necessity,

Which we will niggard with a little rest

There is no more to say?

Cassius

No more. Good night

Early tomorrow will we rise and hence

Brutus

Lucius!

Re-enter Lucius

My gown.

Exit Lucius

Farewell, good Messala;

Good night, Titinius; noble, noble Cassius,

Good night and good repose

Cassius

O my dear brother!

This was an ill beginning of the night

Never come such division ‘tween our souls!

Let it not, Brutus

Brutus

Everything is well

Cassius

Good night, my lord

Brutus

Good night, good brother

Titinius

Messala. Good night, Lord Brutus

Brutus

Farewell, everyone

Exeunt all but Brutus

Re-enter Lucius, with the gown

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

Lucius

Here in the tent

Brutus

What, thou speak’st drowsily?

Poor knave, I blame thee not, thou art o’erwatch’d

Call Claudio and some other of my men,

I’ll have them sleep on cushions in my tent

Lucius

Varro and Claudio!

Enter Varro and Claudio

Varro

Calls my lord?

Brutus

I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep;

It may be I shall raise you by and by

On business to my brother Cassius

Varro

So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure

Brutus

I would not have it so. Lie down, good sirs

It may be I shall otherwise bethink me

Look Lucius, here’s the book I sought for so;

I put it in the pocket of my gown

Varro and Claudio lie down

Lucius

I was sure your Lordship did not give it me

Brutus

Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,

And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

Lucius

Ay, my lord, an’t please you

Brutus

It does, my boy

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing

Lucius

It is my duty, sir

Brutus

I should not urge thy duty past thy might;

I know young bloods look for a time of rest

Lucius

I have slept, my lord, already

Brutus

It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again;

I will not hold thee long. If I do live,

I will be good to thee. Music, and a song

This is a sleepy tune. O murtherous slumber,

Layest thou thy leaden mace upon my boy

That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night

I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee

If thou dost nod, thou break’st thy instrument;

I’ll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night

Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn’d down

Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

Sits down

Enter the Ghost of Caesar

How ill this taper burns! Ha, who comes here?

I think it is the weakness of mine eyes

That shapes this monstrous apparition

It comes upon me. Art thou anything?

Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil

That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?

Speak to me what thou art

Ghost

Thy evil spirit, Brutus

Brutus

Why comest thou?

Ghost

To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi

Brutus

Well, then I shall see thee again?

Ghost

Ay, at Philippi

Brutus

Why, I will see thee at Philippi then.

Exit Ghost

Now I have taken heart thou vanishest

Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee

Boy! Lucius! Varro! Claudio! Sirs, awake!

Claudio!

Lucius

The strings, my lord, are false

Brutus

He thinks he still is at his instrument

Lucius, awake!

Lucius

My lord?

Brutus

Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?

Lucius

My lord, I do not know that I did cry

Brutus

Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything?

Lucius

Nothing, my lord

Brutus

Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudio!

[To Varro] Fellow thou, awake!

Varro

My lord?

Claudio

My lord?

Brutus

Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?

Varro

Claudio. Did we, my lord?

Brutus

Ay, saw you anything?

Varro

No, my lord, I saw nothing

Claudio

Nor I, my lord

Brutus

Go and commend me to my brother Cassius;

Bid him set on his powers betimes before,

And we will follow

Varro

Claudio. It shall be done, my lord.

Exeunt

Act V

Scene I

The plains of Philippi

Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army

Octavius

Now, Antony, our hopes are answered

You said the enemy would not come down,

But keep the hills and upper regions

It proves not so. Their battles are at hand;

They mean to warn us at Philippi here,

Answering before we do demand of them

Antony

Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know

Wherefore they do it. They could be content

To visit other places, and come down

With fearful bravery, thinking by this face

To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage;

But ‘tis not so

Enter a Messenger

Messenger

Prepare you, generals

The enemy comes on in gallant show;

Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,

And something to be done immediately

Antony

Octavius, lead your battle softly on,

Upon the left hand of the even field

Octavius

Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left

Antony

Why do you cross me in this exigent?

Octavius

I do not cross you, but I will do so

March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army;

Lucilius, Titinius, Messala, and others

Brutus

They stand, and would have parley

Cassius

Stand fast, Titinius; we must out and talk

Octavius

Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?

Antony

No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge

Make forth, the generals would have some words

Octavius

Stir not until the signal not until the signal

Brutus

Words before blows. Is it so, countrymen?

Octavius

Not that we love words better, as you do

Brutus

Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius

Antony

In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words

Witness the hole you made in Caesar’s heart,

Crying “Long live! Hail, Caesar!”

Cassius

Antony,

The posture of your blows are yet unknown;

But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,

And leave them honeyless

Antony

Not stingless too

Brutus

O, yes, and soundless too,

For you have stol’n their buzzing, Antony,

And very wisely threat before you sting

Antony

Villains! You did not so when your vile daggers

Hack’d one another in the sides of Caesar

You show’d your teeth like apes, and fawn’d like hounds,

And bow’d like bondmen, kissing Caesar’s feet;

Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind

Strooke Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers!

Cassius

Flatterers? Now, Brutus, thank yourself

This tongue had not offended so today,

If Cassius might have ruled

Octavius

Come, come, the cause. If arguing make us sweat,

The proof of it will turn to redder drops

Look,

I draw a sword against conspirators;

When think you that the sword goes up again?

Never, till Caesar’s three and thirty wounds

Be well avenged, or till another Caesar

Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors

Brutus

Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors’ hands,

Unless thou bring’st them with thee

Octavius

So I hope,

I was not born to die on Brutus’ sword

Brutus

O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,

Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable

Cassius

A peevish school boy, worthless of such honour,

Join’d with a masker and a reveller!

Antony

Old Cassius still!

Octavius

Come, Antony, away!

Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth

If you dare fight today, come to the field;

If not, when you have stomachs

Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their Army

Cassius

Why, now, blow and, swell billow, and swim bark!

The storm is up, and all is on the hazard

Brutus

Ho, Lucilius! Hark, a word with you

Lucilius

[Stands forth] My lord?

Brutus and Lucilius converse apart

Cassius

Messala!

Messala

[Stands forth] What says my general?

Cassius

Messala,

This is my birthday, as this very day

Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala

Be thou my witness that, against my will,

As Pompey was, am I compell’d to set

Upon one battle all our liberties

You know that I held Epicurus strong,

And his opinion. Now I change my mind,

And partly credit things that do presage

Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign

Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch’d,

Gorging and feeding from our soldiers’ hands,

Who to Philippi here consorted us

This morning are they fled away and gone,

And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites

Fly o’er our heads and downward look on us,

As we were sickly prey. Their shadows seem

A canopy most fatal, under which

Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost

Messala

Believe not so

Cassius

I but believe it partly,

For I am fresh of spirit and resolved

To meet all perils very constantly

Brutus

Even so, Lucilius

Cassius

Now, most noble Brutus,

The gods today stand friendly that we may,

Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!

But, since the affairs of men rest still in certain,

Let’s reason with the worst that may befall

If we do lose this battle, then is this

The very last time we shall speak together

What are you then determined to do?

Brutus

Even by the rule of that philosophy

By which I did blame Cato for the death

Which he did give himself- I know not how,

But I do find it cowardly and vile,

For fear of what might fall, so to prevent

The time of life- arming myself with patience

To stay the providence of some high powers

That govern us below

Cassius

Then, if we lose this battle,

You are contented to be led in triumph

Thorough the streets of Rome?

Brutus

No, Cassius, no. Think not, thou noble Roman,

That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;

He bears too great a mind. But this same day

Must end that work the ides of March begun

And whether we shall meet again I know not

Therefore our everlasting farewell take

Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius!

If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;

If not, why then this parting was well made

Cassius

Forever and forever farewell, Brutus!

If we do meet again, we’ll smile indeed;

If not, ‘tis true this parting was well made

Brutus

Why then, lead on. O, that a man might know

The end of this day’s business ere it come!

But it sufficeth that the day will end,

And then the end is known. Come, ho! Away!

Exeunt

Scene II

The field of battle

Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala

Brutus

Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills

Unto the legions on the other side. Loud alarum

Let them set on at once, for I perceive

But cold demeanour in Octavia’s wing,

And sudden push gives them the overthrow

Ride, ride, Messala. Let them all come down.

Exeunt

Scene III

Another part of the field

Alarums. Enter Cassius and Titinius

Cassius

O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly!

Myself have to mine own turn’d enemy

This ensign here of mine was turning back;

I slew the coward, and did take it from him

Titinius

O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early,

Who, having some advantage on Octavius,

Took it too eagerly. His soldiers fell to spoil,

Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed

Enter Pindarus

Pindarus

Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;

Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord;

Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off

Cassius

This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius:

Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?

Titinius

They are, my lord

Cassius

Titinius, if thou lovest me,

Mount thou my horse and hide thy spurs in him,

Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops

And here again, that I may rest assured

Whether yond troops are friend or enemy

Titinius

I will be here again, even with a thought.

Exit

Cassius

Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill;

My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,

And tell me what thou notest about the field

Pindarus ascends the hill

This day I breathed first: time is come round,

And where I did begin, there shall I end;

My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news?

Pindarus

[Above] O my lord!

Cassius

What news?

Pindarus

[Above] Titinius is enclosed round about

With horsemen, that make to him on the spur;

Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him

Now, Titinius! Now some light. O, he lights too

He’s ta’en [Shout] And, hark! They shout for joy

Cassius

Come down; behold no more

O, coward that I am, to live so long,

To see my best friend ta’en before my face!

Pindarus descends

Come hither, sirrah

In Parthia did I take thee prisoner, And then I swore thee,

That whatsoever I did bid thee do,

Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath;

Now be a freeman, and with this good sword,

That ran through Caesar’s bowels, search this bosom

Stand not to answer: here, take thou the hilts;

And when my face is cover’d, as ‘tis now,

Guide thou the sword. [Pindarus stabs him] Caesar, thou art

revenged,

Even with the sword that kill’d thee.

Dies

Pindarus

So, I am free, yet would not so have been,

Durst I have done my will. O Cassius!

Far from this country Pindarus shall run,

Where never Roman shall take note of him.

Re-enter Titinius with Messala

Messala

It is but change, Titinius, for Octavius

Is overthrown by noble Brutus’ power,

As Cassius’ legions are by Antony

Titinius

These tidings would well comfort Cassius

Messala

Where did you leave him?

Titinius

All disconsolate,

With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill

Messala

Is not that he that lies upon the ground?

Titinius

He lies not like the living. O my heart!

Messala

Is not that he?

Titinius

No, this was he, Messala,

But Cassius is no more. O setting sun,

As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night,

So in his red blood Cassius’ day is set,

The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone;

Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done!

Mistrust of my success hath done this deed

Messala

Mistrust of good success hath done this deed

O hateful error, melancholy’s child,

Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men

The things that are not? O error, soon conceived,

Thou never comest unto a happy birth,

But kill’st the mother that engender’d thee!

Titinius

What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus?

Messala

Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet

The noble Brutus, thrusting this report

Into his ears. I may say “thrusting” it,

For piercing steel and darts envenomed

Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus

As tidings of this sight

Titinius

Hie you, Messala,

And I will seek for Pindarus the while.

Exit Messala

Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?

Did I not meet thy friends? And did not they

Put on my brows this wreath of victory,

And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts?

Alas, thou hast misconstrued everything!

But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;

Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I

Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace,

And see how I regarded Caius Cassius

By your leave, gods, this is a Roman’s part

Come, Cassius’ sword, and find Titinius’ heart

Kills himself

Alarum. Re-enter Messala, with Brutus, young Cato, and others

Brutus

Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?

Messala

Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it

Brutus

Titinius’ face is upward

Cato

He is slain

Brutus

O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet!

Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords

In our own proper entrails. Low alarums

Cato

Brave Titinius!

Look whe’er he have not crown’d dead Cassius!

Brutus

Are yet two Romans living such as these?

The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!

It is impossible that ever Rome

Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe moe tears

To this dead man than you shall see me pay

I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time

Come therefore, and to Thasos send his body;

His funerals shall not be in our camp,

Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come,

And come, young Cato; let us to the field

Labio and Flavio, set our battles on

‘Tis three o’clock, and Romans, yet ere night

We shall try fortune in a second fight.

Exeunt

Scene IV

Another part of the field

Alarum. Enter, fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then Brutus, young Cato, Lucilius, and others

Brutus

Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!

Cato

What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?

I will proclaim my name about the field

I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country’s friend

I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

Brutus

And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;

Brutus, my country’s friend; know me for Brutus!

Exit

Lucilius

O young and noble Cato, art thou down?

Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius,

And mayst be honor’d, being Cato’s son

First Soldier

Yield, or thou diest

Lucilius

Only I yield to die

[Offers money] There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight:

Kill Brutus, and be honor’d in his death

First Soldier

We must not. A noble prisoner!

Second Soldier

Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta’en

First Soldier

I’ll tell the news. Here comes the general

Enter Antony

Brutus is ta’en, Brutus is ta’en, my lord

Antony

Where is he?

Lucilius

Safe, Antony, Brutus is safe enough

I dare assure thee that no enemy

Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus;

The gods defend him from so great a shame!

When you do find him, or alive or dead,

He will be found like Brutus, like himself

Antony

This is not Brutus, friend, but, I assure you,

A prize no less in worth. Keep this man safe,

Give him all kindness; I had rather have

Such men my friends than enemies. Go on,

And see wheer Brutus be alive or dead,

And bring us word unto Octavius’ tent

How everything is chanced.

Exeunt

Scene V

Another part of the field

Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius

Brutus

Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock

Clitus

Statilius show’d the torchlight, but, my lord,

He came not back. He is or ta’en or slain

Brutus

Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word:

It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.

Clitus

What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world

Brutus

Peace then, no words

Clitus

I’ll rather kill myself

Brutus

Hark thee, Dardanius.

Dardanius

Shall I do such a deed?

Clitus

O Dardanius!

Dardanius

O Clitus!

Clitus

What ill request did Brutus make to thee?

Dardanius

To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates

Clitus

Now is that noble vessel full of grief,

That it runs over even at his eyes

Brutus

Come hither, good Volumnius, list a word

Volumnius

What says my lord?

Brutus

Why, this, Volumnius:

The ghost of Caesar hath appear’d to me

Two 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 ourselves

Than 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

Volumnius

That’s not an office for a friend, my lord

Alarum still

Clitus

Fly, fly, my lord, there is no tarrying here

Brutus

Farewell to you, and you, and you, Volumnius

Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;

Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,

My heart doth joy that yet in all my life

I found no man but he was true to me

I shall have glory by this losing day,

More than Octavius and Mark Antony

By this vile conquest shall attain unto

So, fare you well at once, for Brutus’ tongue

Hath almost ended his life’s history

Night hangs upon mine eyes, my bones would rest

That have but labor’d to attain this hour

Alarum. Cry within, “Fly, fly, fly!”

Clitus

Fly, my lord, fly

Brutus

Hence! I will follow

Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius

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.

Runs on his sword

Caesar, now be still;

I kill’d not thee with half so good a will.

Dies

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and the Army

Octavius

What man is that?

Messala

My master’s man. Strato, where is thy master?

Strato

Free from the bondage you are in, Messala:

The conquerors can but make a fire of him;

For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man else hath honour by his death

Lucilius

So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,

That thou hast proved Lucilius’ saying true

Octavius

All that served Brutus, I will entertain them

Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?

Strato

Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you

Octavius

Do so, good Messala

Messala

How died my master, Strato?

Strato

I held the sword, and he did run on it

Messala

Octavius, then take him to follow thee

That did the latest service to my master

Antony

This was the noblest Roman of them all

All the conspirators, save only he,

Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;

He only, in a general honest thought

And common good to all, made one of them

His life was gentle, and the elements

So mix’d in him that Nature might stand up

And say to all the world, “This was a man!”

Octavius

According to his virtue let us use him

With all respect and rites of burial

Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie,

Most like a soldier, ordered honourably

So call the field to rest, and let’s away,

To part the glories of this happy day.

Exeunt

The End