Introductory matter

Persons represented: Julius Cæsar [Julius Caesar]. Octavius Cæsar [Octavius Caesar], Triumvir, after the Death of Cæsar. Marcus Antonius, Triumvir, after the Death of Cæsar. M. Æmil. Lepidus [Lepidus], Triumvir, after the Death of Cæsar. Cicero, Senator. Publius, Senator. Popilius Lena, Senator. Brutus [Marcus Brutus], Conspirator against Cæsar. Cassius, Conspirator against Cæsar. Casca, Conspirator against Cæsar. Cinna, Conspirator against Cæsar. Decius [Decius Brutus], Conspirator against Cæsar. Metellus [Metellus Cimber], Conspirator against Cæsar. Trebonius, Conspirator against Cæsar. Ligarius, Conspirator against Cæsar. Flavius, Tribune. Murellus [Marullus], Tribune. a Soothsayer; Artemidorus, a Sophist; Cinna, a Poet [Poet 1]; another Poet [Poet 2]. Lucilius, Friend to Brutus and Cassius. Titinius, Friend to Brutus and Cassius. Messala, Friend to Brutus and Cassius. young Cato, Friend to Brutus and Cassius. Volumnius; Friend to Brutus and Cassius. Lucius, Servant to Brutus. Varro, Servant to Brutus. Claudius, Servant to Brutus. Clitus, Servant to Brutus. Dardanius, Servant to Brutus. Strato a Grecian; Servant to Brutus. Pindarus, Servant to Cassius. Serv. to Cæsar [Servant]; Serv. to Antony [Servant]; Serv. to Octavius [Servant]; four Citizens [Citizen 1], [Citizen 2], [Citizen 3], [Citizen 4], a Messenger, two Soldiers [Soldier 1], [Soldier 2]. Calphurnia, Wife to Cæsar. Portia, Wife to Brutus. Other Citizens, Soldiers, Officers, Senators, &c. [Officer 1], [Officer 2], [Officer 3], [Ghost] Scene dispers'd: in Rome, near Sardis, and near Philippi.

JULIUS CÆSAR. ACT I. SCENE I. Rome. A Street. Enter a Rabble of Citizens; Flavius, and Murellus, driving them.

Fla.
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?

1. C.
Why, sir, a carpenter.

Mur.
Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?—
You, sir; what trade are you?

2. C.

Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobler.

Mur.

But what trade14Q1015 art thou? Answer me directly.

2. C.

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

Mur.
What ^note trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

2. C.
Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me:
Yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.

Mur.
What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?

2. C.

Why, sir, coble you.

Fla.
Thou art a cobler, art thou?14Q1016

2. C.

Truly, sir, all that I live by is, the ^note awl ^note: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's ^note matters; but, with all ^note. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them: As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather have gone upon my handy-work.

Fla.

But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

2. C.

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

Mur.
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 live-long 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 Tyber trembl'd underneath his banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in his 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.

Fla.
Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tyber banks, ^note and weep your tears
Into the channel, 'till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. [Exeunt Citizens.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-ty'd 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.14Q1017

Mur.
May we do so? you know, it is the feast
Of Lupercal.

Fla.
'Tis no matter; let no images ^note
Be hung with Cæsar'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 Cæsar'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. The same. A publick Place. Enter, in solemn Procession, with Musick, &c.

Cæsar; Antony, for the Course; Calphurnia, Portia; Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, &c. a great Crowd following; Soothsayer in the Crowd.

Cæs.
Calphurnia,

Cas^ca.
Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks. [Musick ceases.

Cæs.
Calphurnia,

Cal.
Here, my lord.

Cæs.
Stand you directly in Antonio's way,
When he doth run his course.—Antonio,

Ant.
Cæsar, my lord.

Cæs.
Forget not, in your speed, Antonio,
To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chace,
Shake off their steril curse.

Ant.
I shall remember:
When Cæsar says, Do this, it is perform'd.

Cæs.
Set on; and leave no ceremony out. [Musick; and the Procession moves.

Soo.
Cæsar,

Cæs.
Ha! Who calls?

Cas^ca.
Bid every noise be still:—Peace yet again. [Musick ceases.

Cæs.
Who is it in the press, that calls on me?
I hear a tongue, shriller than all the musick,
Cry, Cæsar: Speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear.

Soo.
Beware the ides of March.

Cæs.
What man is that?

Bru.
A soothsayer, bids beware ^note the ides of March.

Cæs.
Set him before me, let me see his face.

Cas.
Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Cæsar.

Cæs.
What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.

Soo.
Beware the ides of March.

Cæs.
He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. [Musick. Exeunt All, but Bru. and Cas.

Cas.
Will you go see the order of the course?

Bru.
Not I.

Cas.
I pray you, do.

Bru.
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.

Cas.
Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness,
And shew of love, as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend ^note that loves you.

Bru.
Cassius,
Be not deceiv'd: If I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Meerly 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 griev'd;
(Among which number, Cassius, be you one,)
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shews of love to other men.

Cas.
Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;
By means whereof,14Q1018 this breast of mine hath bury'd
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

Bru.
No, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself,

But by reflection, by some ^note other things.

Cas.
'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 Cæsar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoak,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru.
Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?

Cas.
Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd 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 yet you ^note know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus:
Were I ^note a common laugher ^note, 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 ^note banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. [Shout within.

Bru.
What means this shouting? I do fear, the people
Choose Cæsar for their king.

Cas.
Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.

Bru.
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 ought14Q1019 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.

Cas.
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 ^note tell, what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my ^note 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 Cæsar; 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 troubl'd Tyber chasing with his shores,
Cæsar said to ^note me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point? Upon the word,
Accouter'd ^note 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 sinews; throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
Cæsar cry'd, Help me, Cassius, or I sink.
I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tyber

Did I the tired Cæsar: And this man
Is now become a god; and Cassius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body,
If Cæsar carelesly 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 it's lustre: I did hear him groan:
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bad the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
Alas, it cry'd, 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 majestick world,
And bear the palm alone. [Shout again.

Bru.
Another general shout:
I do believe, that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar.

Cas.
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 Cæsar: What should be in that Cæsar?
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 them,

Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.
Now in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown 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 than with one man?
When could they say, 'till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls ^note encompass'd but one man?
Now is it Rome indeed,14Q1020 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.

Bru.
That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have some aim:
How I have thought of ^note this, and of these times,
I shall recount hereafter; for this present,
I would not, so with love I might intreat you,
Be any further mov'd: 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 such hard ^note conditions as this time
Is like to lay upon us.

Cas.
I am glad, that my weak words
Have struck but thus much shew of fire from Brutus. Re-enter Cæsar, and his Train. ^note

Bru.
The games are done, and Cæsar is returning.

Cas.
As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve;
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
What hath proceeded, worthy note, to-day.

Bru.
I will do so:—But, look you, Cassius,
The angry spot14Q1021 doth glow ^note on Cæsar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train:
Calphurnia'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.

Cas.
Casca will tell us what the matter is.

Cæs.
Antonio,

Ant.
Cæsar.

Cæs.
Let me have men about me, that are fat;
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights:
Yon Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.

Ant.
Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous;
He is a noble Roman, and well given.

Cæs.
'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 musick:
Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort,
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit
That could be mov'd to smile at any thing.
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 Cæsar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. [Exeunt Cæsar, and Train: Casca stays.

Cas^ca.
You pull'd me by the cloak; Would you speak with me?

Bru.
Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanc'd to-day,
That Cæsar looks so sad.

Cas^ca.
Why you were with him, were you not?

Bru.
I should not then ask Casca what had chanc'd.

Cas^ca.

Why, there was a crown offer'd him: and being offer'd him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus †; and then the people fell a' shouting.

Bru.

What was the second noise for?

Cas^ca.

Why for that too? ^note

Cas.

They shouted thrice; What was the last cry for?

Cas^ca.

Why for that too? ^note

Bru.

Was the crown offer'd him thrice?

Cas^ca.

Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by, mine honest neighbours shouted.

Cas.

Who offer'd him the crown?

Cas^ca.

Why, Antony.

Bru.

Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.

Cas^ca.

I can as well be hang'd, as tell the manner of it: it was mere ^note 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

offer'd it to him again; then he put it by again: but, to my thinking, he was very loth to lay his fingers off it. And then he offer'd it the third time; he put it the third time by: and still as he refus'd it, the rabblement houted, ^note and clap'd their chopt hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and utter'd such a deal of stinking breath because Cæsar refus'd the crown, that it had almost choak'd Cæsar; for he swooned, 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.

Cas.

But, soft, I pray you; What, did Cæsar swoon?

Cas^ca.

He fell down in the market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechless.

Bru.
'Tis very like; he hath the falling-sickness.

Cas.
No, Cæsar hath it not; but you, and I,
And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness.

Cas^ca.

I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, Cæsar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man.

Bru.

What said he, when he came unto himself?

Cas^ca.

Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refus'd the crown, he pluck'd me ope his doublet, and offer'd them his throat to cut:—An I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, ^note 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, any thing amiss, he desir'd their worships to think it was his infirmity.

Three or four wenches, where I stood, cry'd, Alas, good soul! and forgave him with all their hearts: But there's no heed ^note to be taken of them; if Cæsar had stab'd their ^note mothers, they would have done no less.

Bru.

And after that, he came, thus sad, away?

Cas^ca.

Ay.

Cas.

Did Cicero say any thing?

Cas^ca.

Ay, he spoke Greek.

Cas.

To what effect?

Cas^ca.

Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i'th' face again: But those, that understood him, smil'd at one another, and shook their heads: but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Murellus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs14Q1022 off Cæsar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Cas.

Will you sup with me to-night, Casca?

Cas^ca.

No, I am promis'd forth.

Cas.

Will you dine with me to-morrow?

Cas^ca.

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

Cas.

Good; I will expect you.

Cas^ca.

Do so: Farewel, both.

Bru.
What a blunt fellow is this grown to be?
He was quick mettle, ^note when he went to school.

Cas.
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 ^note.

Bru.
And so it is.
For this time, I will leave you, Cassius:
To-morrow, if you please to speak with ^note me,
I will come home to you; or, if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for you.

Cas.
I will do so: 'till then, think of the world. [Exit Brutus.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble: yet, I see,
Thy honourable metal may be wrought
From that it is dispos'd: Therefore 'tis meet ^note
That noble minds keep ever with their likes:
For who so firm, that cannot be seduc'd?
Cæsar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus:
If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius,
He should not humour me.14Q1023 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
Cæsar's ambition shall be glanced at:
And, after this, let Cæsar seat him sure;
For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit. SCENE III. The same. A Street. Thunder and Lightning. Enter, from opposite Sides, Cicero, and Casca with his Sword drawn.

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

Cas^ca.
Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of earth
Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds

Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen
The ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds:
But never 'till to-night, never 'till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
Either there is a civil strife in heaven;
Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,
Incenses them to send destruction.

Cic.
Why, saw you any thing more wonderful?

Cas^ca.
A common slave (you know him well by sight)
Held up his left hand, which did flame, and burn,
Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand,
Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.
Besides, (I have not since put up my sword)
Against the capitol I met a lion,
Who glar'd ^note upon me, and went surly by, ^note
Without annoying me: And there were drawn
Upon a heap a hundred gastly 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 noon-day, upon the market-place,
Hooting, 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.

Cic.
Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time:
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Comes Cæsar to the capitol to-morrow?

Cas^ca.
He doth; for he did bid Antonio

Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow.

Cic.
Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky
Is not to walk in.

Cas^ca.
Farewel, Cicero. [Exit Cicero. Enter Cassius.

Cas.
Who's there?

Cas^ca.
A Roman.

Cas.
Casca, by your voice.

Cas^ca.
Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this?

Cas.
A very pleasing night to honest men.

Cas^ca.
Who ever knew the heavens menace so?

Cas.
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 bar'd my bosom to the thunder-stone:
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.

Cas^ca.
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.

Cas.
You are dull, Casca; and those sparks of life,
Which 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;14Q1024

Why all these things change, from their ordinance,
Their natures, and pre-formed faculties,
To monstrous quality; why, you shall find,
That nature hath infus'd them with these spirits,
To make them instruments of fear, and warning,
Unto some monstrous state. Now could I Casca,
Name thee ^note a man most like this dreadful night;
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars ^note
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.

Cas^ca.
'Tis Cæsar, that you mean: Is it not, Cassius?

Cas.
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 yoak and sufferance shew us womanish.

Cas^ca.
Indeed, they say, the senators to-morrow
Mean to establish Cæsar as a king:
And he shall wear his crown, by sea, and land,
In every place, save here in Italy.

Cas.
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.

Cas^ca.
So can I:
So every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.

Cas.
And why should Cæsar 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 Cæsar? But, o, grief,
Where hast thou led me? I, perhaps, speak this
Before a willing bondman: then I know ^note
My answer must be made: But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent.

Cas^ca.
You speak to Casca; and to such a man,
That is no flearing 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.

Cas.
There's a bargain made.
Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans,
To undergo, with me, an enterprise
Of honourable-dang'rous 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

Is favour'd14Q1025 like ^note the work we have in hand,
Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. Enter Cinna.

Cas^ca.
Stand close a while, for here comes one in haste.

Cas.
'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gate; ^note
He is a friend.—Cinna, where haste you so?

Cin.
To find out you: Who's that? Metellus Cimber?

Cas.
No, it is Casca; one incorporate
To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?

Cin.
I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this ^note?
There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.

Cas.
Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? tell me.

Cin.
Yes,
You are. O, Cassius, if you could but win
The noble Brutus to our party—

Cas.
Be you content: Good Cinna, take this &dagger2; paper,
And look you lay it in the prætor's chair,
Where Brutus may but find it; and throw &dagger2; this
In at his window; set this &dagger2; 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?

Cin.
All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone
To seek you at your house. Well, I will hye,
And so bestow these papers as you bad me.

Cas.
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 ^note already; and the man entire,
Upon the next encounter, yields him ours.

Cas^ca.
O, he sits high in all the people's hearts:

And that, which would appear offence in us,
His countenance, like richest alchymy,
Will change to virtue, and to worthiness.

Cas.
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. The same. Brutus's Garden. Enter Brutus.

Bru.
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.

Luc.
Call'd you, my lord?

Bru.
Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:
When it is lighted, come and call me here.

Luc.
I will, my lord. [Exit.

Bru.
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 ^note

Remorse from power: And, to speak truth of Cæsar,
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 Cæsar 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.

Luc.
The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
Searching the window for a flint, I found
This &dagger2; paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure,
It did not lye there, when I went to bed.

Bru.
Get you to bed again, it is not day.
Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of ^note March?14Q1026

Luc.
I know not, sir.

Bru.
Look in the calendar, and bring me word.

Luc.
I will, sir. [Exit.

Bru.
The exhalations, whizzing in the air,
Give so much light, that I may read by them. reads]

Brutus thou sleep'st; awake, and see thyself.
Shall Rome &dagger3; &dagger3; &dagger3; &dagger3; Speak, strike, redress.
Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake,— —
Such instigations have been often drop'd,

Where I have took them up.
Shall Rome—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 ^note,
If the redress will follow, thou receivest
Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus. Re-enter Lucius.

Luc.
Sir, March is wasted fourteen days ^note. [Knock within.

Bru.
'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. [Exit Lucius.
Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar,
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;14Q1027 and the state of man, ^note
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection. Re-enter Lucius.

Luc.
Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
Who doth desire to see you.

Bru.
Is he alone?

Luc.
No, sir, there are more with him.

Bru.
Do you know them?

Luc.
No, sir; their hats are pluckt about their ears,
And half their faces bury'd in their cloaks, ^note
That by no means I may discover them
By any mark of favour.

Bru.
Let them enter. [Exit Lucius.
They are the faction. O conspiracy,
Sham'st 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 Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius.

Cas.
I think, we are too bold upon your rest:
Good morrow, Brutus; Do we trouble you?

Bru.
I have been up this hour; awake, all night.
Know I these men, that come along with you?

Cas.
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.

Bru.
He is welcome hither.

Cas.
This, Decius Brutus.

Bru.
He is welcome too.

Cas.
This, Casca; Cinna, this; ^note and this, Metellus Cimber.

Bru.
They are all welcome.
What watchful cares do interpose themselves
Betwixt your eyes and night?

Cas.
Shall I entreat a word? [converse apart.

Dec.
Here lyes the east: Doth not the day break here?

Cas^ca.
No.

Cin.
O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon grey lines,

That fret the clouds, are messengers of day.

Cas^ca.
You shall confess, that you are both deceiv'd.
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.

Bru.
Give me your hands all over, one by one.

Cas.
And let us swear our resolution.

Bru.
No, not an oath: If not the face of men,14Q1028
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 engag'd,
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 past from him.

Cas.
But what of Cicero? Shall we found him?
I think, he will stand very strong with us.

Cas^ca.
Let us not leave him out.

Cin.
No, by no means.

Met.
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 judgment rul'd our hands;
Our youths, and wildness, shall no whit appear,
But all be bury'd in his gravity.

Bru.
O, name him not: let us not break with him;
For he will never follow any thing
That other men begin.

Cas.
Then leave him out.

Cas^ca.
Indeed, he is not fit.

Dec.
Shall no man else be touch'd, but only Cæsar?

Cas.
Decius, well urg'd:—I think, it is not meet,
Mark Antony, so well belov'd of Cæsar,
Should out-live Cæsar: 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 Cæsar, fall together.

Bru.
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 Cæsar.

Let us be sacrificers,14Q1029 but not butchers, Caius.
We all stand up against the spirit of Cæsar;
And in the spirit of men there is no blood:
O, that we then could come by Cæsar's spirit, ^note
And not dismember Cæsar! But, alas,
Cæsar 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 them. 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 Cæsar's arm,
When Cæsar's head is off.

Cas.
Yet I do fear him:
For in the engrafted love he bears to Cæsar,—

Bru.
Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he love Cæsar, all that he can do
Is to himself; take thought, and dye for Cæsar:
And that were much he should; for he is given
To sports, to wildness, and much company.

Tre.
There is no fear in him; let him not dye;
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

Bru.
Peace, count the clock. [Clock strikes.

Cas.
The clock hath stricken three.

Tre.
'Tis time to part.

Cas.
But it is doubtful yet,
Whe'r Cæsar will come forth to-day, 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 to-day.

Dec.
Never fear that: If he be so resolv'd,
I can o'er-sway 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.

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

Bru.
By the eighth hour; Is that the uttermost?

Cin.
Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.

Met.
Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæsar hatred, ^note
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;
I wonder, none of you have thought of him.

Bru.
Now, good Metellus, go along to him ^note:
He loves me well, and I have given him reasons;
Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

Cas.
The morning comes upon us: We'll leave you, Brutus;—
And, friends, disperse yourselves: but all remember
What you have said, and shew yourselves true Romans.

Bru.
Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
Let not our looks put on our purposes;
But bear it as our Roman actors do,

With untir'd 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.

Por.
Brutus, my lord.

Bru.
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.

Por.
Nor for yours neither. You've 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 star'd upon me with ungentle looks:
I urg'd 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 wafture of your hand,
Gave sign for me to leave you: So I did;
Fearing to strengthen that impatience,
Which seem'd too much enkindl'd; 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.

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 means to come by it.

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

Por.
Is Brutus sick; and is it physical,
To walk unbraced, and suck up the humours
Of the dank morning? ^note What, is Brutus sick;
And will he steal out of his wholsome 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 offence 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 to-night
Have had resort to you: for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.

Bru.
Kneel not, gentle Portia. [raising her.

Por.
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 your self ^note,
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.

Bru.
You are my true and honourable wife;
As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart.

Por.
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,14Q1030 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 them:
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? ^note

Bru.
O ye gods,
Render me worthy of this noble wife! [Knock within.
Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in a while;
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. Enter Lucius, and Ligarius.
Lucius, who's that that knocks?

Luc.
Here is a sick man, that would speak with you.

&clquo;Bru.
&clquo;Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.&crquo;—
Boy, stand aside.—[Exit Luc.] Caius Ligarius, how?

Lig.
Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.

Bru.
O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
To wear a kerchief? 'Would you were not sick!

Lig.
I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of honour.

Bru.
Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.

Lig.
By all the gods that Romans bow before,
I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome,
Brave son, deriv'd from honourable loins,
Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjur'd 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?

Bru.
A piece of work, that will make sick men whole.

Lig.
But are not some whole, that we must make sick?

Bru.
That must we also. What it is, my Caius,
I shall unfold to thee, as we are going
To whom it must be done.

Lig.
Set on your foot;
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. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. A Room in Cæsar's Palace. Thunder and Lightning. Enter Cæsar.

Cæs.
Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace tonight:
Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cry'd out,
Help, ho! They murder Cæsar. Who's within? Enter a Servant.

Ser.
My lord?

Cæs.
Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of success.

Ser.
I will, my lord. [Exit Servant.

Enter Calphurnia.

Cal.
What mean you, Cæsar? Think you to walk forth?
You shall not stir out of your house to-day.

Cæs.
Cæsar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me
Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see
The face of Cæsar, they are vanished.

Cal.
Cæsar, I never 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 drizel'd blood upon the capitol:
The noise of battle hurtl'd in ^note the air,
Horses did neigh, ^note and dying men did groan;
And ghosts did shriek, and squeal about the streets.
O Cæsar, these things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them.

Cæs.
What can be avoided,
Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods?
Yet Cæsar shall go forth: for these predictions
Are to the world in general, as to Cæsar.

Cal.
When beggars dye, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

Cæs.
Cowards dye 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.

What say the augurers?

Ser.
They would not have you to stir forth to-day,
Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,
They could not find a heart within the beast.

Cæs.
The gods do this in shame of cowardice:
Cæsar should be a beast without a heart,
If he should stay at home to-day for fear.
No, Cæsar shall not: Danger knows full well,
That Cæsar is more dangerous than he.
We are two ^note14Q1031 lions litter'd in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible;
And Cæsar shall go forth.

Cal.
Alas, my lord,
Your wisdom is consum'd in confidence.
Do not go forth to-day: 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 to-day:
Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this.

Cæs.
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.

Dec.
Cæsar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Cæsar:
I come to fetch you to the senate-house.

Cæs.
And you are come in very happy time,
To bear 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.

Cal.
Say, he is sick.

Cæs.
Shall Cæsar send a lye?
Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far,
To be afear'd to tell gray-beards the truth?—
Decius, go tell them, Cæsar will not come.

Dec.
Most mighty Cæsar, let me know some cause,
Lest I be laugh'd at, when I tell them so.

Cæs.
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.
Calphurnia here, my wife, stays me at home:
She dreamt to-night, she ^note saw my statue, Decius,
Which, like a fountain, with a hundred spouts
Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, and did bath their hands in it:
And these14Q1032 does she apply for warnings, portents ^note
Of evils ^note imminent; and on her knee
Hath beg'd, that I will stay at home to-day.

Dec.
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 bath'd,
Signifies, that from you great Rome ^note shall suck
Reviving blood; and that great men shall press
For tinctures, stains, relicks, and cognisance.
This by Calphurnia's dream is signify'd.

Cæs.
And this way have you well expounded it.

Dec.
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 Cæsar.
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 some one to say,
Break up the senate 'till another time,
When Cæsar's wife shall meet with better dreams.
If Cæsar hide himself, shall they not whisper,
Lo, Cæsar is afraid?
Pardon me, Cæsar; for my dear, dear, love
To your proceeding bids me tell you this;
And reason to my love is liable.

Cæs.
How foolish do your fears seem now, Calphurnia?
I am ashamed I did yield to them.—
Give me my robe, for I will go:— [to an Att: Enter Publius, Ligarius, Brutus, Casca, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius.
And look where Publius is come to fetch me.

Pub.
Good morrow, Cæsar.

Cæs.
Welcome, Publius.—
What, Brutus, are you stir'd so early too?—
Good morrow, Casca.—Caius Ligarius,
Cæsar was ne'er so much your enemy,
As that same ague which hath made you lean.—
What is't o'clock?

Bru.
Cæsar, 'tis strucken eight.

Cæs.
I thank you for your pains and courtesy. Enter Antony.
See! Antony, that revels long o'nights,
Is notwithstanding up:—Good morrow, Antony.

Ant.
So to most noble Cæsar.

Cæs.
Bid them prepare within:— [to an Att:
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 to-day:

Be near me, that I may remember you.

Tre.
Cæsar, I will: &clquo;and so near will I be,
&clquo;That your best friends shall wish I had been further.&crquo;

Cæs.
Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me;
And we, like friends, will straitway go together.

&clquo;Bru.
&clquo;That every like is not the same, o Cæsar,&crquo;
&clquo;The heart of Brutus yearns ^note to think upon.&crquo; [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Street near the Capitol. Enter Artemidorus.

Art. [reads.]

Cæsar, 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 hast wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Cæsar: If thou beest ^note not immortal, look about you: Security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee!

Thy lover, Artemidorus.