Part 1 out of 2
Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't. This was taken from
a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
come in ASCII to the printed text.
The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling,
punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the
printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the
Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified
spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded
abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within
brackets  is what I have added. So if you don't like that
you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a
Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual
differences between various copies of the first folio. So there may
be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between
this and other first folio editions. This is due to the printer's
habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and
then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then
continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown away but
incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the way it is.
The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different
First Folio editions' best pages.
If you find any scanning errors, out and out typos, punctuation
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The Tragedie of Julius Caesar
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Flauius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners ouer the Stage.
Flauius. Hence: home you idle Creatures, get you home:
Is this a Holiday? What, know you not
(Being Mechanicall) you ought not walke
Vpon a labouring day, without the signe
Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou?
Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter
Mur. Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?
What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on?
You sir, what Trade are you?
Cobl. Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am
but as you would say, a Cobler
Mur. But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly
Cob. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe
Conscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules
Fla. What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue,
Cobl. Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet
if you be out Sir, I can mend you
Mur. What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou
Cob. Why sir, Cobble you
Fla. Thou art a Cobler, art thou?
Cob. Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I
meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens matters;
but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes:
when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As proper
men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vpon
Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?
Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets?
Cob. Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my
selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holyday
to see Caesar, and to reioyce in his Triumph
Mur. Wherefore reioyce?
What Conquest brings he home?
What Tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles?
You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things:
O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft?
Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements,
To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops,
Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sate
The liue-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey passe the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his Chariot but appeare,
Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout,
That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankes
To heare the replication of your sounds,
Made in her Concaue Shores?
And do you now put on your best attyre?
And do you now cull out a Holyday?
And do you now strew Flowers in his way,
That comes in Triumph ouer Pompeyes blood?
Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees,
Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this Ingratitude
Fla. Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault
Assemble all the poore men of your sort;
Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your teares
Into the Channell, till the lowest streame
Do kisse the most exalted Shores of all.
Exeunt. all the Commoners.
See where their basest mettle be not mou'd,
They vanish tongue-tyed in their guiltinesse:
Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll,
This way will I: Disrobe the Images,
If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies
Mur. May we do so?
You know it is the Feast of Lupercall
Fla. It is no matter, let no Images
Be hung with Caesars Trophees: Ile about,
And driue away the Vulgar from the streets;
So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke.
These growing Feathers, pluckt from Caesars wing,
Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soare aboue the view of men,
And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.
Enter Caesar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius,
Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer: after them Murellus and
Cask. Peace ho, Caesar speakes
Calp. Heere my Lord
Caes. Stand you directly in Antonio's way,
When he doth run his course. Antonio
Ant. Cæsar, my Lord
Caes. Forget not in your speed Antonio,
To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders say,
The Barren touched in this holy chace,
Shake off their sterrile curse
Ant. I shall remember,
When Caesar sayes, Do this; it is perform'd
Caes. Set on, and leaue no Ceremony out
Caes. Ha? Who calles?
Cask. Bid euery noyse be still: peace yet againe
Caes. Who is it in the presse, that calles on me?
I heare a Tongue shriller then all the Musicke
Cry, Caesar: Speake, Caesar is turn'd to heare
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March
Caes. What man is that?
Br. A Sooth-sayer bids you beware the Ides of March
Caes. Set him before me, let me see his face
Cassi. Fellow, come from the throng, look vpon Caesar
Caes. What sayst thou to me now? Speak once againe,
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March
Caes. He is a Dreamer, let vs leaue him: Passe.
Exeunt. Manet Brut. & Cass.
Cassi. Will you go see the order of the course?
Brut. Not I
Cassi. I pray you do
Brut. I am not Gamesom: I do lacke some part
Of that quicke Spirit that is in Antony:
Let me not hinder Cassius your desires;
Ile leaue you
Cassi. Brutus, I do obserue you now of late:
I haue not from your eyes, that gentlenesse
And shew of Loue, as I was wont to haue:
You beare too stubborne, and too strange a hand
Ouer your Friend, that loues you
Be not deceiu'd: If I haue veyl'd my looke,
I turne the trouble of my Countenance
Meerely vpon my selfe. Vexed I am
Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions onely proper to my selfe,
Which giue some soyle (perhaps) to my Behauiours:
But let not therefore my good Friends be greeu'd
(Among which number Cassius be you one)
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Then that poore Brutus with himselfe at warre,
Forgets the shewes of Loue to other men
Cassi. Then Brutus, I haue much mistook your passion,
By meanes whereof, this Brest 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 it selfe but by reflection,
By some other things
Cassius. 'Tis iust,
And it is very much lamented Brutus,
That you haue no such Mirrors, as will turne
Your hidden worthinesse into your eye,
That you might see your shadow:
I haue heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortall Caesar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning vnderneath this Ages yoake,
Haue wish'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes
Bru. Into what dangers, would you
Leade me Cassius?
That you would haue me seeke into my selfe,
For that which is not in me?
Cas. Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to heare:
And since you know, you cannot see your selfe
So well as by Reflection; I your Glasse,
Will modestly discouer to your selfe
That of your selfe, which you yet know not of.
And be not iealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common Laughter, or did vse
To stale with ordinary Oathes my loue
To euery new Protester: if you know,
That I do fawne on men, and hugge them hard,
And after scandall them: Or if you know,
That I professe my selfe in Banquetting
To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.
Flourish, and Shout.
Bru. What meanes this Showting?
I do feare, the People choose Caesar
For their King
Cassi. I, do you feare it?
Then must I thinke you would not haue it so
Bru. I would not Cassius, yet I loue him well:
But wherefore do you hold me heere so long?
What is it, that you would impart to me?
If it be ought toward the generall good,
Set Honor in one eye, and Death i'th other,
And I will looke on both indifferently:
For let the Gods so speed mee, as I loue
The name of Honor, more then I feare death
Cassi. I know that vertue to be in you Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward fauour.
Well, Honor is the subiect of my Story:
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Thinke of this life: But for my single selfe,
I had as liefe not be, as liue to be
In awe of such a Thing, as I my selfe.
I was borne free as Caesar, so were you,
We both haue fed as well, and we can both
Endure the Winters cold, as well as hee.
For once, vpon a Rawe and Gustie day,
The troubled Tyber, chafing with her Shores,
Caesar saide to me, Dar'st thou Cassius now
Leape in with me into this angry Flood,
And swim to yonder Point? Vpon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bad him follow: so indeed he did.
The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lusty Sinewes, throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of Controuersie.
But ere we could arriue the Point propos'd,
Caesar cride, Helpe me Cassius, or I sinke.
I (as Aeneas, our great Ancestor,
Did from the Flames of Troy, vpon his shoulder
The old Anchyses beare) so, from the waues of Tyber
Did I the tyred Caesar: And this Man,
Is now become a God, and Cassius is
A wretched Creature, and must bend his body,
If Caesar carelesly but nod on him.
He had a Feauer when he was in Spaine,
And when the Fit was on him, I did marke
How he did shake: Tis true, this God did shake,
His Coward lippes did from their colour flye,
And that same Eye, whose bend doth awe the World,
Did loose his Lustre: I did heare him grone:
I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans
Marke him, and write his Speeches in their Bookes,
Alas, it cried, Giue me some drinke Titinius,
As a sicke Girle: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the Maiesticke world,
And beare the Palme alone.
Bru. Another generall shout?
I do beleeue, that these applauses are
For some new Honors, that are heap'd on Caesar
Cassi. Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walke vnder his huge legges, and peepe about
To finde our selues dishonourable Graues.
Men at sometime, are Masters of their Fates.
The fault (deere Brutus) is not in our Starres,
But in our Selues, that we are vnderlings.
Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Caesar?
Why should that name be sounded more then yours
Write them together: Yours, is as faire a Name:
Sound them, it doth become the mouth aswell:
Weigh them, it is as heauy: Coniure with 'em,
Brutus will start a Spirit as soone as Caesar.
Now in the names of all the Gods at once,
Vpon what meate doth this our Caesar feede,
That he is growne so great? Age, thou art sham'd.
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of Noble Bloods.
When went there by an Age, since the great Flood,
But it was fam'd with more then with one man?
When could they say (till now) that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide Walkes incompast but one man?
Now is it Rome indeed, and Roome enough
When there is in it but one onely man.
O! you and I, haue heard our Fathers say,
There was a Brutus once, that would haue brook'd
Th' eternall Diuell to keepe his State in Rome,
As easily as a King
Bru. That you do loue me, I am nothing iealous:
What you would worke me too, I haue some ayme:
How I haue thought of this, and of these times
I shall recount heereafter. For this present,
I would not so (with loue I might intreat you)
Be any further moou'd: What you haue said,
I will consider: what you haue to say
I will with patience heare, and finde a time
Both meete to heare, and answer such high things.
Till then, my Noble Friend, chew vpon this:
Brutus had rather be a Villager,
Then to repute himselfe a Sonne of Rome
Vnder these hard Conditions, as this time
Is like to lay vpon vs
Cassi. I am glad that my weake words
Haue strucke but thus much shew of fire from Brutus,
Enter Caesar and his Traine.
Bru. The Games are done,
And Caesar is returning
Cassi. As they passe by,
Plucke Caska by the Sleeue,
And he will (after his sowre fashion) tell you
What hath proceeded worthy note to day
Bru. I will do so: but looke you Cassius,
The angry spot doth glow on Caesars brow,
And all the rest, looke like a chidden Traine;
Calphurnia's Cheeke is pale, and Cicero
Lookes with such Ferret, and such fiery eyes
As we haue seene him in the Capitoll
Being crost in Conference, by some Senators
Cassi. Caska will tell vs what the matter is
Caes Let me haue men about me, that are fat,
Sleeke-headed men, and such as sleepe a-nights:
Yond Cassius has a leane and hungry looke,
He thinkes too much: such men are dangerous
Ant. Feare him not Caesar, he's not dangerous,
He is a Noble Roman, and well giuen
Caes Would he were fatter; But I feare him not:
Yet if my name were lyable to feare,
I do not know the man I should auoyd
So soone as that spare Cassius. He reades much,
He is a great Obseruer, and he lookes
Quite through the Deeds of men. He loues no Playes,
As thou dost Antony: he heares no Musicke;
Seldome he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
As if he mock'd himselfe, and scorn'd his spirit
That could be mou'd to smile at any thing.
Such men as he, be neuer at hearts ease,
Whiles they behold a greater then themselues,
And therefore are they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,
Then what I feare: for alwayes I am Caesar.
Come on my right hand, for this eare is deafe,
And tell me truely, what thou think'st of him.
Exeunt. Caesar and his Traine.
Cask. You pul'd me by the cloake, would you speake
Bru. I Caska, tell vs what hath chanc'd to day
That Caesar lookes so sad
Cask. Why you were with him, were you not?
Bru. I should not then aske Caska what had chanc'd
Cask. Why there was a Crowne offer'd him; & being
offer'd him, he put it by with the backe of his hand thus,
and then the people fell a shouting
Bru. What was the second noyse for?
Cask. Why for that too
Cassi. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?
Cask. Why for that too
Bru. Was the Crowne offer'd him thrice?
Cask. I marry was't, and hee put it by thrice, euerie
time gentler then other; and at euery putting by, mine
honest Neighbors showted
Cassi. Who offer'd him the Crowne?
Cask. Why Antony
Bru. Tell vs the manner of it, gentle Caska
Caska. I can as well bee hang'd as tell the manner of
it: It was meere Foolerie, I did not marke it. I sawe
Marke Antony offer him a Crowne, yet 'twas not a
Crowne neyther, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I
told you, hee put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking,
he would faine haue had it. Then hee offered it to
him againe: then hee put it by againe: but to my thinking,
he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then
he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by,
and still as hee refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and
clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw vppe their sweatie
Night-cappes, and vttered such a deale of stinking
breath, because Caesar refus'd the Crowne, that it had
(almost) choaked Caesar: for hee swoonded, and fell
downe at it: And for mine owne part, I durst not laugh,
for feare of opening my Lippes, and receyuing the bad
Cassi. But soft I pray you: what, did Caesar swound?
Cask. He fell downe in the Market-place, and foam'd
at mouth, and was speechlesse
Brut. 'Tis very like he hath the Falling sicknesse
Cassi. No, Caesar hath it not: but you, and I,
And honest Caska, we haue the Falling sicknesse
Cask. I know not what you meane by that, but I am
sure Caesar fell downe. If the tag-ragge people did not
clap him, and hisse him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd
them, as they vse to doe the Players in the Theatre,
I am no true man
Brut. What said he, when he came vnto himselfe?
Cask. Marry, before he fell downe, when he perceiu'd
the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crowne, he
pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat
to cut: and I had beene a man of any Occupation, if I
would not haue taken him at a word, I would I might
goe to Hell among the Rogues, and so hee fell. When
he came to himselfe againe, hee said, If hee had done, or
said any thing amisse, he desir'd their Worships to thinke
it was his infirmitie. Three or foure Wenches where I
stood, cryed, Alasse good Soule, and forgaue him with
all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them;
if Caesar had stab'd their Mothers, they would haue done
Brut. And after that, he came thus sad away
Cassi. Did Cicero say any thing?
Cask. I, he spoke Greeke
Cassi. To what effect?
Cask. Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're looke you
i'th' face againe. But those that vnderstood him, smil'd
at one another, and shooke their heads: but for mine
owne part, it was Greeke to me. I could tell you more
newes too: Murrellus and Flauius, for pulling Scarffes
off Caesars Images, are put to silence. Fare you well.
There was more Foolerie yet, if I could remember
Cassi. Will you suppe with me to Night, Caska?
Cask. No, I am promis'd forth
Cassi. Will you Dine with me to morrow?
Cask. I, if I be aliue, and your minde hold, and your
Dinner worth the eating
Cassi. Good, I will expect you
Cask. Doe so: farewell both.
Brut. What a blunt fellow is this growne to be?
He was quick Mettle, when he went to Schoole
Cassi. So is he now, in execution
Of any bold, or Noble Enterprize,
How-euer he puts on this tardie forme:
This Rudenesse is a Sawce to his good Wit,
Which giues men stomacke to disgest his words
With better Appetite
Brut. And so it is:
For this time I will leaue you:
To morrow, if you please to speake with me,
I will come home to you: or if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for you
Cassi. I will doe so: till then, thinke of the World.
Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I see,
Thy Honorable Mettle may be wrought
From that it is dispos'd: therefore it is meet,
That Noble mindes keepe euer with their likes:
For who so firme, that cannot be seduc'd?
Caesar doth beare me hard, but he loues Brutus.
If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius,
He should not humor me. I will this Night,
In seuerall Hands, in at his Windowes throw,
As if they came from seuerall Citizens,
Writings, all tending to the great opinion
That Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurely
Caesars Ambition shall be glanced at.
And after this, let Caesar seat him sure,
For wee will shake him, or worse dayes endure.
Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Cicero.
Cic. Good euen, Caska: brought you Caesar home?
Why are you breathlesse, and why stare you so?
Cask. Are not you mou'd, when all the sway of Earth
Shakes, like a thing vnfirme? O Cicero,
I haue seene Tempests, when the scolding Winds
Haue riu'd the knottie Oakes, and I haue seene
Th' ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foame,
To be exalted with the threatning Clouds:
But neuer till to Night, neuer till now,
Did I goe through a Tempest-dropping-fire.
Eyther there is a Ciuill strife in Heauen,
Or else the World, too sawcie with the Gods,
Incenses them to send destruction
Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderfull?
Cask. A common slaue, you know him well by sight,
Held vp his left Hand, which did flame and burne
Like twentie Torches ioyn'd; and yet his Hand,
Not sensible of fire, remain'd vnscorch'd.
Besides, I ha' not since put vp my Sword,
Against the Capitoll I met a Lyon,
Who glaz'd vpon me, and went surly by,
Without annoying me. And there were drawne
Vpon a heape, a hundred gastly Women,
Transformed with their feare, who swore, they saw
Men, all in fire, walke vp and downe the streetes.
And yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit,
Euen at Noone-day, vpon the Market place,
Howting, and shreeking. When these Prodigies
Doe so conioyntly meet, let not men say,
These are their Reasons, they are Naturall:
For I beleeue, they are portentous things
Vnto the Clymate, that they point vpon
Cic. Indeed, it is a strange disposed time:
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Cleane from the purpose of the things themselues.
Comes Caesar to the Capitoll to morrow?
Cask. He doth: for he did bid Antonio
Send word to you, he would be there to morrow
Cic. Good-night then, Caska:
This disturbed Skie is not to walke in
Cask. Farewell Cicero.
Cassi. Who's there?
Cask. A Romane
Cassi. Caska, by your Voyce
Cask. Your Eare is good.
Cassius, what Night is this?
Cassi. A very pleasing Night to honest men
Cask. Who euer knew the Heauens menace so?
Cassi. Those that haue knowne the Earth so full of
For my part, I haue walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me vnto the perillous Night;
And thus vnbraced, Caska, as you see,
Haue bar'd my Bosome to the Thunder-stone:
And when the crosse blew Lightning seem'd to open
The Brest of Heauen, I did present my selfe
Euen in the ayme, and very flash of it
Cask. But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heauens?
It is the part of men, to feare and tremble,
When the most mightie Gods, by tokens send
Such dreadfull Heraulds, to astonish vs
Cassi. You are dull, Caska:
And those sparkes of Life, that should be in a Roman,
You doe want, or else you vse not.
You looke pale, and gaze, and put on feare,
And cast your selfe in wonder,
To see the strange impatience of the Heauens:
But if you would consider the true cause,
Why all these Fires, why all these gliding Ghosts,
Why Birds and Beasts, from qualitie and kinde,
Why Old men, Fooles, and Children calculate,
Why all these things change from their Ordinance,
Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties,
To monstrous qualitie; why you shall finde,
That Heauen hath infus'd them with these Spirits,
To make them Instruments of feare, and warning,
Vnto some monstrous State.
Now could I (Caska) name to thee a man,
Most like this dreadfull Night,
That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graues, and roares,
As doth the Lyon in the Capitoll:
A man no mightier then thy selfe, or me,
In personall action; yet prodigious growne,
And fearefull, as these strange eruptions are
Cask. 'Tis Caesar that you meane:
Is it not, Cassius?
Cassi. Let it be who it is: for Romans now
Haue Thewes, and Limbes, like to their Ancestors;
But woe the while, our Fathers mindes are dead,
And we are gouern'd with our Mothers spirits,
Our yoake, and sufferance, shew vs Womanish
Cask. Indeed, they say, the Senators to morrow
Meane to establish Caesar as a King:
And he shall weare his Crowne by Sea, and Land,
In euery place, saue here in Italy
Cassi. I know where I will weare this Dagger then;
Cassius from Bondage will deliuer Cassius:
Therein, yee Gods, you make the weake most strong;
Therein, yee Gods, you Tyrants doe defeat.
Nor Stonie Tower, nor Walls of beaten Brasse,
Nor ayre-lesse Dungeon, nor strong Linkes of Iron,
Can be retentiue to the strength of spirit:
But Life being wearie of these worldly Barres,
Neuer lacks power to dismisse it selfe.
If I know this, know all the World besides,
That part of Tyrannie that I doe beare,
I can shake off at pleasure.
Cask. So can I:
So euery Bond-man in his owne hand beares
The power to cancell his Captiuitie
Cassi. And why should Cæsar be a Tyrant then?
Poore man, I know he would not be a Wolfe,
But that he sees the Romans are but Sheepe:
He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hindes.
Those that with haste will make a mightie fire,
Begin it with weake Strawes. What trash is Rome?
What Rubbish, and what Offall? when it serues
For the base matter, to illuminate
So vile a thing as Caesar. But oh Griefe,
Where hast thou led me? I (perhaps) speake this
Before a willing Bond-man: then I know
My answere must be made. But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent
Cask. You speake to Caska, and to such a man,
That is no flearing Tell-tale. Hold, my Hand:
Be factious for redresse of all these Griefes,
And I will set this foot of mine as farre,
As who goes farthest
Cassi. There's a Bargaine made.
Now know you, Caska, I haue mou'd already
Some certaine of the Noblest minded Romans
To vnder-goe, with me, an Enterprize,
Of Honorable dangerous consequence;
And I doe know by this, they stay for me
In Pompeyes Porch: for now this fearefull Night,
There is no stirre, or walking in the streetes;
And the Complexion of the Element
Is Fauors, like the Worke we haue in hand,
Most bloodie, fierie, and most terrible.
Caska. Stand close a while, for heere comes one in
Cassi. 'Tis Cinna, I doe know him by his Gate,
He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?
Cinna. To finde out you: Who's that, Metellus
Cassi. No, it is Caska, one incorporate
To our Attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?
Cinna. I am glad on't.
What a fearefull Night is this?
There's two or three of vs haue seene strange sights
Cassi. Am I not stay'd for? tell me
Cinna. Yes, you are. O Cassius,
If you could but winne the Noble Brutus
To our party-
Cassi. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this Paper,
And looke you lay it in the Pretors Chayre,
Where Brutus may but finde it: and throw this
In at his Window; set this vp with Waxe
Vpon old Brutus Statue: all this done,
Repaire to Pompeyes Porch, where you shall finde vs.
Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
Cinna. All, but Metellus Cymber, and hee's gone
To seeke you at your house. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these Papers as you bad me
Cassi. That done, repayre to Pompeyes Theater.
Come Caska, you and I will yet, ere day,
See Brutus at his house: three parts of him
Is ours alreadie, and the man entire
Vpon the next encounter, yeelds him ours
Cask. O, he sits high in all the Peoples hearts:
And that which would appeare Offence in vs,
His Countenance, like richest Alchymie,
Will change to Vertue, and to Worthinesse
Cassi. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You haue right well conceited: let vs goe,
For it is after Mid-night, and ere day,
We will awake him, and be sure of him.
Enter Brutus in his Orchard.
Brut. What Lucius, hoe?
I cannot, by the progresse of the Starres,
Giue guesse how neere to day- Lucius, I say?
I would it were my fault to sleepe so soundly.
When Lucius, when? awake, I say: what Lucius?
Luc. Call'd you, my Lord?
Brut. Get me a Tapor in my Study, Lucius:
When it is lighted, come and call me here
Luc. I will, my Lord.
Brut. It must be by his death: and for my part,
I know no personall cause, to spurne at him,
But for the generall. 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 craues warie walking: Crowne him that,
And then I graunt we put a Sting in him,
That at his will he may doe danger with.
Th' abuse of Greatnesse, is, when it dis-ioynes
Remorse from Power: And to speake truth of Caesar,
I haue not knowne, when his Affections sway'd
More then his Reason. But 'tis a common proofe,
That Lowlynesse is young Ambitions Ladder,
Whereto the Climber vpward turnes his Face:
But when he once attaines the vpmost Round,
He then vnto the Ladder turnes his Backe,
Lookes in the Clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend: so Caesar may;
Then least he may, preuent. And since the Quarrell
Will beare no colour, for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would runne to these, and these extremities:
And therefore thinke him as a Serpents egge,
Which hatch'd, would as his kinde grow mischieuous;
And kill him in the shell.
Luc. The Taper burneth in your Closet, Sir:
Searching the Window for a Flint, I found
This Paper, thus seal'd vp, and I am sure
It did not lye there when I went to Bed.
Giues him the Letter.
Brut. Get you to Bed againe, it is not day:
Is not to morrow (Boy) the first of March?
Luc. I know not, Sir
Brut. Looke in the Calender, and bring me word
Luc. I will, Sir.
Brut. The exhalations, whizzing in the ayre,
Giue so much light, that I may reade by them.
Opens the Letter, and reades.
Brutus thou sleep'st; awake, and see thy selfe:
Shall Rome, &c. speake, strike, redresse.
Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake.
Such instigations haue beene often dropt,
Where I haue tooke them vp:
Shall Rome, &c. Thus must I piece it out:
Shall Rome stand vnder one mans awe? What Rome?
My Ancestors did from the streetes of Rome
The Tarquin driue, when he was call'd a King.
Speake, strike, redresse. Am I entreated
To speake, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
If the redresse will follow, thou receiuest
Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus.
Luc. Sir, March is wasted fifteene dayes.
Brut. 'Tis good. Go to the Gate, some body knocks:
Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,
I haue not slept.
Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing,
And the first motion, all the Interim is
Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dreame:
The Genius, and the mortall Instruments
Are then in councell; and the state of a man,
Like to a little Kingdome, suffers then
The nature of an Insurrection.
Luc. Sir, 'tis your Brother Cassius at the Doore,
Who doth desire to see you
Brut. Is he alone?
Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him
Brut. Doe you know them?
Luc. No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Eares,
And halfe their Faces buried in their Cloakes,
That by no meanes I may discouer them,
By any marke of fauour
Brut. Let 'em enter:
They are the Faction. O Conspiracie,
Sham'st thou to shew thy dang'rous Brow by Night,
When euills are most free? O then, by day
Where wilt thou finde a Cauerne darke enough,
To maske thy monstrous Visage? Seek none Conspiracie,
Hide it in Smiles, and Affabilitie:
For if thou path thy natiue semblance on,
Not Erebus it selfe were dimme enough,
To hide thee from preuention.
Enter the Conspirators, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Cinna, Metellus,
Cass. I thinke we are too bold vpon your Rest:
Good morrow Brutus, doe we trouble you?
Brut. I haue beene vp this howre, awake all Night:
Know I these men, that come along with you?
Cass. Yes, euery man of them; and no man here
But honors you: and euery one doth wish,
You had but that opinion of your selfe,
Which euery Noble Roman beares of you.
This is Trebonius
Brut. He is welcome hither
Cass. This, Decius Brutus
Brut. He is welcome too
Cass. This, Caska; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus
Brut. They are all welcome.
What watchfull Cares doe interpose themselues
Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?
Cass. Shall I entreat a word?
Decius. Here lyes the East: doth not the Day breake
Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey Lines,
That fret the Clouds, are Messengers of Day
Cask. You shall confesse, that you are both deceiu'd:
Heere, as I point my Sword, the Sunne arises,
Which is a great way growing on the South,
Weighing the youthfull Season of the yeare.
Some two moneths hence, vp higher toward the North
He first presents his fire, and the high East
Stands as the Capitoll, directly heere
Bru. Giue me your hands all ouer, one by one
Cas. And let vs sweare our Resolution
Brut. No, not an Oath: if not the Face of men,
The sufferance of our Soules, the times Abuse;
If these be Motiues weake, breake off betimes,
And euery 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) beare fire enough
To kindle Cowards, and to steele with valour
The melting Spirits of women. Then Countrymen,
What neede we any spurre, but our owne cause
To pricke vs to redresse? What other Bond,
Then secret Romans, that haue spoke the word,
And will not palter? And what other Oath,
Then Honesty to Honesty ingag'd,
That this shall be, or we will fall for it.
Sweare Priests and Cowards, and men Cautelous
Old feeble Carrions, and such suffering Soules
That welcome wrongs: Vnto bad causes, sweare
Such Creatures as men doubt; but do not staine
The euen vertue of our Enterprize,
Nor th' insuppressiue Mettle of our Spirits,
To thinke, that or our Cause, or our Performance
Did neede an Oath. When euery drop of blood
That euery Roman beares, and Nobly beares
Is guilty of a seuerall Bastardie,
If he do breake the smallest Particle
Of any promise that hath past from him
Cas. But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?
I thinke he will stand very strong with vs
Cask. Let vs not leaue him out
Cyn. No, by no meanes
Metel. O let vs haue him, for his Siluer haires
Will purchase vs a good opinion:
And buy mens voyces, to commend our deeds:
It shall be sayd, his iudgement rul'd our hands,
Our youths, and wildenesse, shall no whit appeare,
But all be buried in his Grauity
Bru. O name him not; let vs not breake with him,
For he will neuer follow any thing
That other men begin
Cas. Then leaue him out
Cask. Indeed, he is not fit
Decius. Shall no man else be toucht, but onely Caesar?
Cas. Decius well vrg'd: I thinke it is not meet,
Marke Antony, so well belou'd of Caesar,
Should out-liue Caesar, we shall finde of him
A shrew'd Contriuer. And you know, his meanes
If he improue them, may well stretch so farre
As to annoy vs all: which to preuent,
Let Antony and Caesar fall together
Bru. Our course will seeme too bloody, Caius Cassius,
To cut the Head off, and then hacke the Limbes:
Like Wrath in death, and Enuy afterwards:
For Antony, is but a Limbe of Caesar.
Let's be Sacrificers, but not Butchers Caius:
We all stand vp against the spirit of Caesar,
And in the Spirit of men, there is no blood:
O that we then could come by Caesars 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 carue him, as a Dish fit for the Gods,
Not hew him as a Carkasse fit for Hounds:
And let our Hearts, as subtle Masters do,
Stirre vp their Seruants to an acte of Rage,
And after seeme to chide 'em. This shall make
Our purpose Necessary, and not Enuious.
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be call'd Purgers, not Murderers.
And for Marke Antony, thinke not of him:
For he can do no more then Caesars Arme,
When Caesars head is off
Cas. Yet I feare him,
For in the ingrafted loue he beares to Caesar
Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not thinke of him:
If he loue Caesar, all that he can do
Is to himselfe; take thought, and dye for Caesar,
And that were much he should: for he is giuen
To sports, to wildenesse, and much company
Treb. There is no feare in him; let him not dye,
For he will liue, and laugh at this heereafter.
Bru. Peace, count the Clocke
Cas. The Clocke hath stricken three
Treb. 'Tis time to part
Cass. But it is doubtfull yet,
Whether Caesar will come forth to day, or no:
For he is Superstitious growne of late,
Quite from the maine Opinion he held once,
Of Fantasie, of Dreames, and Ceremonies:
It may be, these apparant Prodigies,
The vnaccustom'd Terror of this night,
And the perswasion of his Augurers,
May hold him from the Capitoll to day
Decius. Neuer feare that: If he be so resolu'd,
I can ore-sway him: For he loues to heare,
That Vnicornes may be betray'd with Trees,
And Beares with Glasses, Elephants with Holes,
Lyons with Toyles, and men with Flatterers.
But, when I tell him, he hates Flatterers,
He sayes, he does; being then most flattered.
Let me worke:
For I can giue his humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitoll
Cas. Nay, we will all of vs, be there to fetch him
Bru. By the eight houre, is that the vttermost?
Cin. Be that the vttermost, and faile not then
Met. Caius Ligarius doth beare Caesar hard,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;
I wonder none of you haue thought of him
Bru. Now good Metellus go along by him:
He loues me well, and I haue giuen him Reasons,
Send him but hither, and Ile fashion him
Cas. The morning comes vpon's:
Wee'l leaue you Brutus,
And Friends disperse your selues; but all remember
What you haue said, and shew your selues true Romans
Bru. Good Gentlemen, looke fresh and merrily,
Let not our lookes put on our purposes,
But beare it as our Roman Actors do,
With vntyr'd Spirits, and formall Constancie,
And so good morrow to you euery one.
Boy: Lucius: Fast asleepe? It is no matter,
Enioy the hony-heauy-Dew of Slumber:
Thou hast no Figures, nor no Fantasies,
Which busie care drawes, in the braines of men;
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
Por. Brutus, my Lord
Bru. Portia: What meane you? wherfore rise you now?
It is not for your health, thus to commit
Your weake condition, to the raw cold morning
Por. Nor for yours neither. Y'haue vngently Brutus
Stole from my bed: and yesternight at Supper
You sodainly arose, and walk'd about,
Musing, and sighing, with your armes acrosse
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You star'd vpon me, with vngentle lookes.
I vrg'd you further, then you scratch'd your head,
And too impatiently stampt with your foote:
Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,
But with an angry wafter of your hand
Gaue signe for me to leaue you: So I did,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience
Which seem'd too much inkindled; and withall,
Hoping it was but an effect of Humor,
Which sometime hath his houre with euery man.
It will not let you eate, nor talke, nor sleepe;
And could it worke so much vpon your shape,
As it hath much preuayl'd on your Condition,
I should not know you Brutus. Deare my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of greefe
Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all
Por. Brutus is wise, and were he not in health,
He would embrace the meanes to come by it
Bru. Why so I do: good Portia go to bed
Por. Is Brutus sicke? And is it Physicall
To walke vnbraced, and sucke vp the humours
Of the danke Morning? What, is Brutus sicke?
And will he steale out of his wholsome bed
To dare the vile contagion of the Night?
And tempt the Rhewmy, and vnpurged Ayre,
To adde vnto his sicknesse? No my Brutus,
You haue some sicke Offence within your minde,
Which by the Right and Vertue of my place
I ought to know of: And vpon my knees,
I charme you, by my once commended Beauty,
By all your vowes of Loue, and that great Vow
Which did incorporate and make vs one,
That you vnfold to me, your selfe; your halfe
Why you are heauy: and what men to night
Haue had resort to you: for heere haue beene
Some sixe or seuen, who did hide their faces
Euen from darknesse
Bru. Kneele not gentle Portia
Por. I should not neede, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within the Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus,
Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets
That appertaine to you? Am I your Selfe,
But as it were in sort, or limitation?
To keepe with you at Meales, comfort your Bed,
And talke 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
Bru. You are my true and honourable Wife,
As deere to me, as are the ruddy droppes
That visit my sad heart
Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret.
I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,
A Woman that Lord Brutus tooke to Wife:
I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,
A Woman well reputed: Cato's Daughter.
Thinke you, I am no stronger then my Sex
Being so Father'd, and so Husbanded?
Tell me your Counsels, I will not disclose 'em:
I haue made strong proofe of my Constancie,
Giuing my selfe a voluntary wound
Heere, in the Thigh: Can I beare that with patience,
And not my Husbands Secrets?
Bru. O ye Gods!
Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.
Harke, harke, one knockes: Portia go in a while,
And by and by thy bosome shall partake
The secrets of my Heart.
All my engagements, I will construe to thee,
All the Charractery of my sad browes:
Leaue me with hast.
Enter Lucius and Ligarius.
Lucius, who's that knockes
Luc. Heere is a sicke man that would speak with you
Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?
Cai. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue
Bru. O what a time haue you chose out braue Caius
To weare a Kerchiefe? Would you were not sicke
Cai. I am not sicke, if Brutus haue in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of Honor
Bru. Such an exploit haue I in hand Ligarius,
Had you a healthfull eare to heare of it
Cai. By all the Gods that Romans bow before,
I heere discard my sicknesse. Soule of Rome,
Braue Sonne, deriu'd from Honourable Loines,
Thou like an Exorcist, hast coniur'd vp
My mortified Spirit. Now bid me runne,
And I will striue with things impossible,
Yea get the better of them. What's to do?
Bru. A peece of worke,
That will make sicke men whole
Cai. But are not some whole, that we must make sicke?
Bru. That must we also. What it is my Caius,
I shall vnfold to thee, as we are going,
To whom it must be done
Cai. Set on your foote,
And with a heart new-fir'd, I follow you,
To do I know not what: but it sufficeth
That Brutus leads me on.
Bru. Follow me then.
Thunder & Lightning
Enter Iulius Caesar in his Night-gowne.
Caesar. Nor Heauen, nor Earth,
Haue beene at peace to night:
Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her sleepe cryed out,
Helpe, ho: They murther Caesar. Who's within?
Enter a Seruant.
Ser. My Lord
Caes Go bid the Priests do present Sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of Successe
Ser. I will my Lord.
Cal. What mean you Caesar? Think you to walk forth?
You shall not stirre out of your house to day
Caes Caesar shall forth; the things that threaten'd me,
Ne're look'd but on my backe: When they shall see
The face of Caesar, they are vanished
Calp. Caesar, I neuer stood on Ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me: There is one within,
Besides the things that we haue heard and seene,
Recounts most horrid sights seene by the Watch.
A Lionnesse hath whelped in the streets,
And Graues haue yawn'd, and yeelded vp their dead;
Fierce fiery Warriours fight vpon the Clouds
In Rankes and Squadrons, and right forme of Warre
Which drizel'd blood vpon the Capitoll:
The noise of Battell hurtled in the Ayre:
Horsses do neigh, and dying men did grone,
And Ghosts did shrieke and squeale about the streets.
O Caesar, these things are beyond all vse,
And I do feare them
Caes What can be auoyded
Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet Caesar shall go forth: for these Predictions
Are to the world in generall, as to Caesar
Calp. When Beggers dye, there are no Comets seen,
The Heauens themselues blaze forth the death of Princes
Caes Cowards dye many times before their deaths,
The valiant neuer taste of death but once:
Of all the Wonders that I yet haue heard,
It seemes to me most strange that men should feare,
Seeing that death, a necessary end
Will come, when it will come.
Enter a Seruant.
What say the Augurers?
Ser. They would not haue you to stirre forth to day.
Plucking the intrailes of an Offering forth,
They could not finde a heart within the beast
Caes The Gods do this in shame of Cowardice:
Caesar should be a Beast without a heart
If he should stay at home to day for feare:
No Caesar shall not; Danger knowes full well
That Caesar is more dangerous then he.
We heare two Lyons litter'd in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible,
And Caesar shall go foorth
Calp. Alas my Lord,
Your wisedome is consum'd in confidence:
Do not go forth to day: Call it my feare,
That keepes you in the house, and not your owne.
Wee'l send Mark Antony to the Senate house,
And he shall say, you are not well to day:
Let me vpon my knee, preuaile in this
Caes Mark Antony shall say I am not well,
And for thy humor, I will stay at home.
Heere's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so
Deci. Caesar, all haile: Good morrow worthy Caesar,
I come to fetch you to the Senate house
Caes And you are come in very happy time,
To beare my greeting to the Senators,
And tell them that I will not come to day:
Cannot, is false: and that I dare not, falser:
I will not come to day, tell them so Decius
Calp. Say he is sicke
Caes Shall Caesar send a Lye?
Haue I in Conquest stretcht mine Arme so farre,
To be afear'd to tell Gray-beards the truth:
Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come
Deci. Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
Lest I be laught at when I tell them so
Caes The cause is in my Will, I will not come,
That is enough to satisfie the Senate.
But for your priuate satisfaction,
Because I loue you, I will let you know.
Calphurnia heere my wife, stayes me at home:
She dreampt to night, she saw my Statue,
Which like a Fountaine, with an hundred spouts
Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, & did bathe their hands in it:
And these does she apply, for warnings and portents,
And euils imminent; and on her knee
Hath begg'd, that I will stay at home to day
Deci. This Dreame is all amisse interpreted,
It was a vision, faire and fortunate:
Your Statue spouting blood in many pipes,
In which so many smiling Romans bath'd,
Signifies, that from you great Rome shall sucke
Reuiuing blood, and that great men shall presse
For Tinctures, Staines, Reliques, and Cognisance.
This by Calphurnia's Dreame is signified
Caes And this way haue you well expounded it
Deci. I haue, when you haue heard what I can say:
And know it now, the Senate haue concluded
To giue this day, a Crowne to mighty Caesar.
If you shall send them word you will not come,
Their mindes may change. Besides, it were a mocke
Apt to be render'd, for some one to say,
Breake vp the Senate, till another time:
When Caesars wife shall meete with better Dreames.
If Caesar hide himselfe, shall they not whisper
Loe Caesar is affraid?
Pardon me Caesar, for my deere deere loue
To your proceeding, bids me tell you this:
And reason to my loue is liable
Caes How foolish do your fears seeme now Calphurnia?
I am ashamed I did yeeld to them.
Giue me my Robe, for I will go.
Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Caska, Trebonius, Cynna, and
And looke where Publius is come to fetch me
Pub. Good morrow Caesar
Caes Welcome Publius.
What Brutus, are you stirr'd so earely too?
Good morrow Caska: Caius Ligarius,
Caesar was ne're so much your enemy,
As that same Ague which hath made you leane.
What is't a Clocke?
Bru. Caesar, 'tis strucken eight
Caes I thanke you for your paines and curtesie.
See, Antony that Reuels long a-nights
Is notwithstanding vp. Good morrow Antony
Ant. So to most Noble Caesar
Caes Bid them prepare within:
I am too blame to be thus waited for.
Now Cynna, now Metellus: what Trebonius,
I haue an houres talke in store for you:
Remember that you call on me to day:
Be neere me, that I may remember you
Treb. Caesar I will: and so neere will I be,
That your best Friends shall wish I had beene further
Caes Good Friends go in, and taste some wine with me.
And we (like Friends) will straight way go together
Bru. That euery like is not the same, O Caesar,
The heart of Brutus earnes to thinke vpon.
Caesar, beware of Brutus, take heede of Cassius; come not
neere Caska, haue an eye to Cynna, trust not Trebonius, marke
well Metellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loues thee not: Thou
hast wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one minde in all
these men, and it is bent against Caesar: If thou beest not
looke about you: Security giues way to Conspiracie.
The mighty Gods defend thee.
Thy Louer, Artemidorus.
Heere will I stand, till Caesar passe along,
And as a Sutor will I giue him this:
My heart laments, that Vertue cannot liue
Out of the teeth of Emulation.
If thou reade this, O Caesar, thou mayest liue;
If not, the Fates with Traitors do contriue.
Enter Portia and Lucius.
Por. I prythee Boy, run to the Senate-house,
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
Why doest thou stay?
Luc. To know my errand Madam
Por. I would haue had thee there and heere agen
Ere I can tell thee what thou should'st do there:
O Constancie, be strong vpon my side,
Set a huge Mountaine 'tweene my Heart and Tongue:
I haue a mans minde, but a womans might:
How hard it is for women to keepe counsell.
Art thou heere yet?
Luc. Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitoll, and nothing else?
And so returne to you, and nothing else?
Por. Yes, bring me word Boy, if thy Lord look well,
For he went sickly forth: and take good note
What Caesar doth, what Sutors presse to him.
Hearke Boy, what noyse is that?
Luc. I heare none Madam
Por. Prythee listen well:
I heard a bussling Rumor like a Fray,
And the winde brings it from the Capitoll
Luc. Sooth Madam, I heare nothing.
Enter the Soothsayer.
Por. Come hither Fellow, which way hast thou bin?
Sooth. At mine owne house, good Lady
Por. What is't a clocke?
Sooth. About the ninth houre Lady
Por. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitoll?
Sooth. Madam not yet, I go to take my stand,
To see him passe on to the Capitoll
Por. Thou hast some suite to Caesar, hast thou not?
Sooth. That I haue Lady, if it will please Caesar
To be so good to Caesar, as to heare me:
I shall beseech him to befriend himselfe
Por. Why know'st thou any harme's intended towards
Sooth. None that I know will be,
Much that I feare may chance:
Good morrow to you: heere the street is narrow:
The throng that followes Caesar at the heeles,
Of Senators, of Praetors, common Sutors,
Will crowd a feeble man (almost) to death:
Ile get me to a place more voyd, and there
Speake to great Caesar as he comes along.
Por. I must go in:
Aye me! How weake a thing
The heart of woman is? O Brutus,
The Heauens speede thee in thine enterprize.
Sure the Boy heard me: Brutus hath a suite
That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint:
Run Lucius, and commend me to my Lord,
Say I am merry; Come to me againe,
And bring me word what he doth say to thee.
Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius,
Antony, Lepidus, Artimedorus, Publius, and the Soothsayer.
Caes The Ides of March are come
Sooth. I Caesar, but not gone
Art. Haile Caesar: Read this Scedule
Deci. Trebonius doth desire you to ore-read
(At your best leysure) this his humble suite
Art. O Caesar, reade mine first: for mine's a suite
That touches Caesar neerer. Read it great Caesar
Caes What touches vs our selfe, shall be last seru'd
Art. Delay not Caesar, read it instantly
Caes What, is the fellow mad?
Pub. Sirra, giue place
Cassi. What, vrge you your Petitions in the street?
Come to the Capitoll
Popil. I wish your enterprize to day may thriue
Cassi. What enterprize Popillius?
Popil. Fare you well
Bru. What said Popillius Lena?
Cassi. He wisht to day our enterprize might thriue:
I feare our purpose is discouered
Bru. Looke how he makes to Caesar: marke him
Cassi. Caska be sodaine, for we feare preuention.
Brutus what shall be done? If this be knowne,
Cassius or Caesar neuer shall turne backe,
For I will slay my selfe
Bru. Cassius be constant:
Popillius Lena speakes not of our purposes,
For looke he smiles, and Caesar doth not change
Cassi. Trebonius knowes his time: for look you Brutus
He drawes Mark Antony out of the way
Deci. Where is Metellus Cimber, let him go,
And presently preferre his suite to Caesar
Bru. He is addrest: presse neere, and second him
Cin. Caska, you are the first that reares your hand
Caes Are we all ready? What is now amisse,
That Caesar and his Senate must redresse?
Metel. Most high, most mighty, and most puisant Caesar
Metellus Cymber throwes before thy Seate
An humble heart
Caes I must preuent thee Cymber:
These couchings, and these lowly courtesies
Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
And turne pre-Ordinance, and first Decree
Into the lane of Children. Be not fond,
To thinke that Caesar beares such Rebell blood
That will be thaw'd from the true quality
With that which melteth Fooles, I meane sweet words,
Low-crooked-curtsies, and base Spaniell fawning:
Thy Brother by decree is banished:
If thou doest bend, and pray, and fawne for him,
I spurne thee like a Curre out of my way:
Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause
Will he be satisfied
Metel. Is there no voyce more worthy then my owne,
To sound more sweetly in great Caesars eare,
For the repealing of my banish'd Brother?
Bru. I kisse thy hand, but not in flattery Caesar:
Desiring thee, that Publius Cymber may
Haue an immediate freedome of repeale
Caes What Brutus?
Cassi. Pardon Caesar: Caesar pardon:
As lowe as to thy foote doth Cassius fall,
To begge infranchisement for Publius Cymber
Caes I could be well mou'd, if I were as you,
If I could pray to mooue, Prayers would mooue me:
But I am constant as the Northerne Starre,
Of whose true fixt, and resting quality,
There is no fellow in the Firmament.
The Skies are painted with vnnumbred sparkes,
They are all Fire, and euery 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 apprehensiue;
Yet in the number, I do know but One
That vnassayleable holds on his Ranke,
Vnshak'd of Motion: and that I am he,
Let me a little shew it, euen in this:
That I was constant Cymber should be banish'd,
And constant do remaine to keepe him so
Cinna. O Caesar
Caes Hence: Wilt thou lift vp Olympus?
Decius. Great Caesar
Caes Doth not Brutus bootlesse kneele?
Cask. Speake hands for me.
They stab Caesar.
Caes Et Tu Brute? - Then fall Caesar.
Cin. Liberty, Freedome; Tyranny is dead,
Run hence, proclaime, cry it about the Streets
Cassi. Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out
Liberty, Freedome, and Enfranchisement
Bru. People and Senators, be not affrighted:
Fly not, stand still: Ambitions debt is paid
Cask. Go to the Pulpit Brutus
Dec. And Cassius too
Bru. Where's Publius?
Cin. Heere, quite confounded with this mutiny
Met. Stand fast together, least some Friend of Caesars
Bru. Talke not of standing. Publius good cheere,
There is no harme intended to your person,
Nor to no Roman else: so tell them Publius
Cassi. And leaue vs Publius, least that the people
Rushing on vs, should do your Age some mischiefe
Bru. Do so, and let no man abide this deede,
But we the Doers.
Cassi. Where is Antony?
Treb. Fled to his House amaz'd:
Men, Wiues, and Children, stare, cry out, and run,
As it were Doomesday
Bru. Fates, we will know your pleasures:
That we shall dye we know, 'tis but the time
And drawing dayes out, that men stand vpon
Cask. Why he that cuts off twenty yeares of life,
Cuts off so many yeares of fearing death
Bru. Grant that, and then is Death a Benefit:
So are we Caesars Friends, that haue abridg'd
His time of fearing death. Stoope Romans, stoope,
And let vs bathe our hands in Caesars blood
Vp to the Elbowes, and besmeare our Swords:
Then walke we forth, euen to the Market place,
And wauing our red Weapons o're our heads,
Let's all cry Peace, Freedome, and Liberty
Cassi. Stoop then, and wash. How many Ages hence
Shall this our lofty Scene be acted ouer,
In State vnborne, and Accents yet vnknowne?
Bru. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompeyes Basis lye along,
No worthier then the dust?
Cassi. So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of vs be call'd,
The Men that gaue their Country liberty
Dec. What, shall we forth?
Cassi. I, euery man away.
Brutus shall leade, and we will grace his heeles
With the most boldest, and best hearts of Rome.
Enter a Seruant.
Bru. Soft, who comes heere? A friend of Antonies
Ser. Thus Brutus did my Master bid me kneele;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall downe,
And being prostrate, thus he bad me say:
Brutus is Noble, Wise, Valiant, and Honest;
Caesar was Mighty, Bold, Royall, and Louing:
Say, I loue Brutus, and I honour him;
Say, I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him, and lou'd him.
If Brutus will vouchsafe, that Antony
May safely come to him, and be resolu'd
How Caesar hath deseru'd to lye in death,
Mark Antony, shall not loue Caesar dead
So well as Brutus liuing; but will follow
The Fortunes and Affayres of Noble Brutus,
Thorough the hazards of this vntrod State,
With all true Faith. So sayes my Master Antony
Bru. Thy Master is a Wise and Valiant Romane,
I neuer thought him worse:
Tell him, so please him come vnto this place
He shall be satisfied: and by my Honor
Ser. Ile fetch him presently.
Bru. I know that we shall haue him well to Friend
Cassi. I wish we may: But yet haue I a minde
That feares him much: and my misgiuing still
Falles shrewdly to the purpose.
Bru. But heere comes Antony:
Welcome Mark Antony
Ant. O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lye so lowe?
Are all thy Conquests, Glories, Triumphes, Spoiles,
Shrunke to this little Measure? Fare thee well.
I know not Gentlemen what you intend,
Who else must be let blood, who else is ranke:
If I my selfe, there is no houre so fit
As Caesars deaths houre; nor no Instrument
Of halfe that worth, as those your Swords; made rich
With the most Noble blood of all this World.
I do beseech yee, if you beare me hard,
Now, whil'st your purpled hands do reeke and smoake,
Fulfill your pleasure. Liue a thousand yeeres,
I shall not finde my selfe so apt to dye.
No place will please me so, no meane of death,
As heere by Caesar, and by you cut off,
The Choice and Master Spirits of this Age
Bru. O Antony! Begge not your death of vs:
Though now we must appeare bloody and cruell,
As by our hands, and this our present Acte
You see we do: Yet see you but our hands,
And this, the bleeding businesse they haue done:
Our hearts you see not, they are pittifull:
And pitty to the generall wrong of Rome,
As fire driues out fire, so pitty, pitty
Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,
To you, our Swords haue leaden points Marke Antony:
Our Armes in strength of malice, and our Hearts
Of Brothers temper, do receiue you in,
With all kinde loue, good thoughts, and reuerence
Cassi. Your voyce shall be as strong as any mans,
In the disposing of new Dignities
Bru. Onely be patient, till we haue appeas'd
The Multitude, beside themselues with feare,
And then, we will deliuer you the cause,
Why I, that did loue Caesar when I strooke him,
Haue thus proceeded
Ant. I doubt not of your Wisedome:
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 Caska, yours;
Though last, not least in loue, yours good Trebonius.
Gentlemen all: Alas, what shall I say,
My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
That one of two bad wayes you must conceit me,
Either a Coward, or a Flatterer.
That I did loue thee Caesar, O 'tis true:
If then thy Spirit looke vpon vs now,
Shall it not greeue thee deerer then thy death,
To see thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes?
Most Noble, in the presence of thy Coarse,
Had I as many eyes, as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they streame forth thy blood,
It would become me better, then to close
In tearmes of Friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me Iulius, heere was't thou bay'd braue Hart,
Heere did'st thou fall, and heere thy Hunters stand
Sign'd in thy Spoyle, and Crimson'd in thy Lethee.
O World! thou wast the Forrest to this Hart,
And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee.
How like a Deere, stroken by many Princes,
Dost thou heere lye?
Cassi. Mark Antony
Ant. Pardon me Caius Cassius:
The Enemies of Caesar, shall say this:
Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modestie
Cassi. I blame you not for praising Caesar so.
But what compact meane you to haue with vs?
Will you be prick'd in number of our Friends,
Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
Ant. Therefore I tooke your hands, but was indeed
Sway'd from the point, by looking downe on Caesar.
Friends am I with you all, and loue you all,
Vpon this hope, that you shall giue me Reasons,
Why, and wherein, Caesar was dangerous
Bru. Or else were this a sauage Spectacle:
Our Reasons are so full of good regard,
That were you Antony, the Sonne of Caesar,
You should be satisfied
Ant. That's all I seeke,
And am moreouer sutor, that I may
Produce his body to the Market-place,
And in the Pulpit as becomes a Friend,
Speake in the Order of his Funerall
Bru. You shall Marke Antony
Cassi. Brutus, a word with you:
You know not what you do; Do not consent
That Antony speake in his Funerall:
Know you how much the people may be mou'd
By that which he will vtter
Bru. By your pardon:
I will my selfe into the Pulpit first,
And shew the reason of our Caesars death.
What Antony shall speake, I will protest
He speakes by leaue, and by permission:
And that we are contented Caesar shall
Haue all true Rites, and lawfull Ceremonies,
It shall aduantage more, then do vs wrong
Cassi. I know not what may fall, I like it not
Bru. Mark Antony, heere take you Caesars body:
You shall not in your Funerall speech blame vs,
But speake all good you can deuise of Caesar,
And say you doo't by our permission:
Else shall you not haue any hand at all
About his Funerall. And you shall speake
In the same Pulpit whereto I am going,
After my speech is ended
Ant. Be it so:
I do desire no more
Bru. Prepare the body then, and follow vs.
O pardon me, thou bleeding peece of Earth:
That I am meeke and gentle with these Butchers.
Thou art the Ruines of the Noblest man
That euer liued in the Tide of Times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly Blood.
Ouer thy wounds, now do I Prophesie,
(Which like dumbe mouthes do ope their Ruby lips,
To begge the voyce and vtterance of my Tongue)
A Curse shall light vpon the limbes of men;
Domesticke Fury, and fierce Ciuill strife,
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy:
Blood and destruction shall be so in vse,
And dreadfull Obiects so familiar,
That Mothers shall but smile, when they behold
Their Infants quartered with the hands of Warre:
All pitty choak'd with custome of fell deeds,
And Caesars Spirit ranging for Reuenge,
With Ate by his side, come hot from Hell,
Shall in these Confines, with a Monarkes voyce,
Cry hauocke, and let slip the Dogges of Warre,
That this foule deede, shall smell aboue the earth
With Carrion men, groaning for Buriall.
Enter Octauio's Seruant.
You serue Octauius Caesar, do you not?
Ser. I do Marke Antony
Ant. Caesar did write for him to come to Rome
Ser. He did receiue his Letters, and is comming,
And bid me say to you by word of mouth-
Ant. Thy heart is bigge: get thee a-part and weepe:
Passion I see is catching from mine eyes,
Seeing those Beads of sorrow stand in thine,
Began to water. Is thy Master comming?
Ser. He lies to night within seuen Leagues of Rome
Ant. Post backe with speede,
And tell him what hath chanc'd:
Heere is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
No Rome of safety for Octauius yet,
Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet stay a-while,
Thou shalt not backe, till I haue borne this course
Into the Market place: There shall I try
In my Oration, how the People take
The cruell issue of these bloody men,
According to the which, thou shalt discourse
To yong Octauius, of the state of things.
Lend me your hand.
Enter Brutus and goes into the Pulpit, and Cassius, with the
Ple. We will be satisfied: let vs be satisfied
Bru. Then follow me, and giue me Audience friends.
Cassius go you into the other streete,
And part the Numbers:
Those that will heare me speake, let 'em stay heere;
Those that will follow Cassius, go with him,
And publike Reasons shall be rendred
Of Caesars death
1.Ple. I will heare Brutus speake
2. I will heare Cassius, and compare their Reasons,
When seuerally we heare them rendred
3. The Noble Brutus is ascended: Silence
Bru. Be patient till the last.
Romans, Countrey-men, and Louers, heare mee for my
cause, and be silent, that you may heare. Beleeue me for
mine Honor, and haue respect to mine Honor, that you
may beleeue. Censure me in your Wisedom, and awake
your Senses, that you may the better Iudge. If there bee
any in this Assembly, any deere Friend of Caesars, to him
I say, that Brutus loue to Caesar, was no lesse then his. If
then, that Friend demand, why Brutus rose against Caesar,
this is my answer: Not that I lou'd Caesar lesse, but
that I lou'd Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were liuing,
and dye all Slaues; then that Caesar were dead, to
liue all Free-men? As Caesar lou'd mee, I weepe for him;
as he was Fortunate, I reioyce at it; as he was Valiant, I
honour him: But, as he was Ambitious, I slew him. There
is Teares, for his Loue: Ioy, for his Fortune: Honor, for
his Valour: and Death, for his Ambition. Who is heere
so base, that would be a Bondman? If any, speak, for him
haue I offended. Who is heere so rude, that would not
be a Roman? If any, speak, for him haue I offended. Who
is heere so vile, that will not loue his Countrey? If any,
speake, for him haue I offended. I pause for a Reply
All. None Brutus, none
Brutus. Then none haue I offended. I haue done no
more to Caesar, then you shall do to Brutus. The Question
of his death, is inroll'd in the Capitoll: his Glory not
extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforc'd,
for which he suffered death.
Enter Mark Antony, with Caesars body.
Heere comes his Body, mourn'd by Marke Antony, who
though he had no hand in his death, shall receiue the benefit
of his dying, a place in the Co[m]monwealth, as which
of you shall not. With this I depart, that as I slewe my
best Louer for the good of Rome, I haue the same Dagger
for my selfe, when it shall please my Country to need