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JULIUS CAESAR

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Table of Contents

1. Titlepage
2. Dramatis Personae
3. Julius Caesar
   1. Act I
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
   2. Act II
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
      4. Scene IV
   3. Act III
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
   4. Act IV
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
   5. Act V
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
      4. Scene IV
      5. Scene V
4. Colophon

Dramatis Personae

• Julius Caesar

• Octavius Caesar, triumvir after the death of Julius Caesar

• Marcus Antonius, triumvir after the death of Julius Caesar

• M. Aemilius Lepidus, triumvir after the death of Julius Caesar

• Cicero, senator

• Publius, senator

• Popilius Lena, senator

• Marcus Brutus, conspirator against Julius Caesar

• Cassius, conspirator against Julius Caesar

• Casca, conspirator against Julius Caesar

• Trebonius, conspirator against Julius Caesar

• Ligarius, conspirator against Julius Caesar

• Decius Brutus, conspirator against Julius Caesar

• Metellus Cimber, conspirator against Julius Caesar

• Cinna, conspirator against Julius Caesar

• Flavius and Marullus, tribunes

• Artemidorus of Cnidos, a teacher of rhetoric

• A Soothsayer

• Cinna, a poet. Another poet

• 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

• Varro, servant to Brutus

• Clitus, servant to Brutus

• Claudius, servant to Brutus

• Strato, servant to Brutus

• Lucius, servant to Brutus

• Dardanius, servant to Brutus

• Pindarus, servant to Cassius

• Calpurnia, wife to Caesar

• Portia, wife to Brutus

• Senators, citizens, guards, attendants, etc.

Scene: Rome; the neighbourbood of Sardis; the neighbourbood of Philippi.

Julius Caesar

Act I

Scene I

Rome. A street.

	Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners.
Flavius	Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home: Is this a holiday? what! know you not, Being mechanical, you ought not walk Upon a labouring day without the sign Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
First Commoner	Why, sir, a carpenter.
Marullus	Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? What dost thou with thy best apparel on? You, sir, what trade are you?
Second Commoner	Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler.
Marullus	But what trade art thou? answer me directly.
Second Commoner	A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
Marullus	What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
Second Commoner	Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
Marullus	What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow!
Second Commoner	Why, sir, cobble you.
Flavius	Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
Second Commoner	Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman’s matters, nor women’s matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat’s leather have gone upon my handiwork.
Flavius	But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
Second Commoner	Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.
Marullus	Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climb’d up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The 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 Tiber trembled underneath her banks, To hear the replication of your sounds Made in her concave shores? And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now cull out a holiday? And do you now strew flowers in his way That comes in triumph over Pompey’s blood? Be gone! Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flavius	Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, Assemble all the poor men of your sort; Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. Exeunt all the Commoners. See whether their basest metal be not moved; They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. Go you down that way towards the Capitol; This way will I: disrobe the images, If you do find them deck’d with ceremonies.
Marullus	May we do so? You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
Flavius	It is no matter; let no images Be hung with Caesar’s trophies. I’ll about, And drive away the vulgar from the streets: So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These growing feathers pluck’d from Caesar’s wing Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, Who else would soar above the view of men And keep us all in servile fearfulness. Exeunt.

Scene II

A public place.

	Flourish. Enter Caesar; Antony, for the course; Calpurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer.
Caesar	Calpurnia!
Casca	Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.
Caesar	Calpurnia!
Calpurnia	Here, my lord.
Caesar	Stand you directly in Antonius’ way, When he doth run his course. Antonius!
Antony	Caesar, my lord?
Caesar	Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their sterile curse.
Antony	I shall remember: When Caesar says “do this,” it is perform’d.
Caesar	Set on; and leave no ceremony out. Flourish.
Soothsayer	Caesar!
Caesar	Ha! who calls?
Casca	Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!
Caesar	Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry “Caesar!” Speak; Caesar is turn’d to hear.
Soothsayer	Beware the ides of March.
Caesar	What man is that?
Brutus	A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.
Caesar	Set him before me; let me see his face.
Cassius	Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.
Caesar	What say’st thou to me now? speak once again.
Soothsayer	Beware the ides of March.
Caesar	He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. Sennet. Exeunt all except Brutus and Cassius.
Cassius	Will you go see the order of the course?
Brutus	Not I.
Cassius	I pray you, do.
Brutus	I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; I’ll leave you.
Cassius	Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you.
Brutus	Cassius, Be not deceived: if I have veil’d my look, I turn the trouble of my countenance Merely upon myself. Vexed I am Of late with passions of some difference, Conceptions only proper to myself, Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors; But let not therefore my good friends be grieved⁠— Among which number, Cassius, be you one⁠— Nor construe any further my neglect, Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men.
Cassius	Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Brutus	No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things.
Cassius	’Tis just: And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye, That you might see your shadow. I have heard, Where many of the best respect in Rome, Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus And groaning underneath this age’s yoke, Have wish’d that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Brutus	Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?
Cassius	Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: And since you know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass, Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself which you yet know not of. And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus: Were I a common laugher, or did use To stale with ordinary oaths my love To every new protester; if you know That I do fawn on men and hug them hard And after scandal them, or if you know That I profess myself in banqueting To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. Flourish, and shout.
Brutus	What means this shouting? I do fear, the people Choose Caesar for their king.
Cassius	Ay, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it so.
Brutus	I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well. But wherefore do you hold me here so long? What is it that you would impart to me? If it be aught toward the general good, Set honour in one eye and death i’ the other, And I will look on both indifferently, For let the gods so speed me as I love The name of honour more than I fear death.
Cassius	I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, As well as I do know your outward favour. Well, honour is the subject of my story. I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself. I was born free as Caesar; so were you: We both have fed as well, and we can both Endure the winter’s cold as well as he: For once, upon a raw and gusty day, The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, Caesar said to me “Darest thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point?” Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in And bade him follow; so indeed he did. The torrent roar’d, and we did buffet it With lusty sinews, throwing it aside And stemming it with hearts of controversy; But ere we could arrive the point proposed, Caesar cried “Help me, Cassius, or I sink!” I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber Did I the tired Caesar. And this man Is now become a god, and Cassius is A wretched creature and must bend his body, If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake: ’tis true, this god did shake: His coward lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan: Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him and write his speeches in their books, Alas, it cried “Give me some drink, Titinius,” As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world And bear the palm alone. Shout. Flourish.
Brutus	Another general shout! I do believe that these applauses are For some new honours that are heap’d on Caesar.
Cassius	Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that “Caesar”? Why should that name be sounded more than yours? Write them together, yours is as fair a name; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with ’em, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. Now, in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! When went there by an age, since the great flood, But it was famed with more than with one man? When could they say till now, that talk’d of Rome, That her wide walls encompass’d but one man? Now is it Rome indeed and room enough, When there is in it but one only man. O, you and I have heard our fathers say, There was a Brutus once that would have brook’d The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome As easily as a king.
Brutus	That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; What you would work me to, I have some aim: How I have thought of this and of these times, I shall recount hereafter; for this present, I would not, so with love I might entreat you, Be any further moved. What you have said I will consider; what you have to say I will with patience hear, and find a time Both meet to hear and answer such high things. Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: Brutus had rather be a villager Than to repute himself a son of Rome Under these hard conditions as this time Is like to lay upon us.
Cassius	I am glad that my weak words Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.
Brutus	The games are done and Caesar is returning.
Cassius	As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you What hath proceeded worthy note to-day.
	Re-enter Caesar and his Train.
Brutus	I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Caesar’s brow, And all the rest look like a chidden train: Calpurnia’s cheek is pale; and Cicero Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes As we have seen him in the Capitol, Being cross’d in conference by some senators.
Cassius	Casca will tell us what the matter is.
Caesar	Antonius!
Antony	Caesar?
Caesar	Let me have men about me that are fat: Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o’ nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
Antony	Fear him not, Caesar; he’s not dangerous; He is a noble Roman and well given.
Caesar	Would he were fatter! But I fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; He is a great observer and he looks Quite through the deeds of men; he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock’d himself and scorn’d his spirit That could be moved to smile at anything. Such men as he be never at heart’s ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous. I rather tell thee what is to be fear’d Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar. Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly what thou think’st of him. Sennet. Exeunt Caesar and all his Train, but Casca.
Casca	You pull’d me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
Brutus	Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day, That Caesar looks so sad.
Casca	Why, you were with him, were you not?
Brutus	I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.
Casca	Why, there was a crown offered him: and being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; and then the people fell a-shouting.
Brutus	What was the second noise for?
Casca	Why, for that too.
Cassius	They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?
Casca	Why, for that too.
Brutus	Was the crown offered him thrice?
Casca	Ay, marry, was’t, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other, and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours shouted.
Cassius	Who offered him the crown?
Casca	Why, Antony.
Brutus	Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
Casca	I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown;⁠—yet ’twas not a crown neither, ’twas one of these coronets;⁠—and, as I told you, he put it by once: but, for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again; then he put it by again: but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by: and still as he refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their chopped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air.
Cassius	But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound?
Casca	He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless.
Brutus	’Tis very like: he hath the failing sickness.
Cassius	No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness.
Casca	I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man.
Brutus	What said he when he came unto himself?
Casca	Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut. An I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, If he had done or said anything amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried “Alas, good soul!” and forgave him with all their hearts: but there’s no heed to be taken of them: if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.
Brutus	And after that, he came, thus sad, away?
Casca	Ay.
Cassius	Did Cicero say anything?
Casca	Ay, he spoke Greek.
Cassius	To what effect?
Casca	Nay, an I tell you that, I’ll ne’er look you i’ the face again: but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Caesar’s images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.
Cassius	Will you sup with me to-night, Casca?
Casca	No, I am promised forth.
Cassius	Will you dine with me to-morrow?
Casca	Ay, if I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner worth the eating.
Cassius	Good: I will expect you.
Casca	Do so. Farewell, both. Exit.
Brutus	What a blunt fellow is this grown to be! He was quick mettle when he went to school.
Cassius	So is he now in execution Of any bold or noble enterprise, However he puts on this tardy form. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.
Brutus	And so it is. For this time I will leave you: To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, I will come home to you; or, if you will, Come home to me, and I will wait for you.
Cassius	I will do so: till then, think of the world. Exit Brutus. Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, Thy honourable metal may be wrought From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet That noble minds keep ever with their likes; For who so firm that cannot be seduced? Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus: If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, He should not humour me. I will this night, In several hands, in at his windows throw, As if they came from several citizens, Writings all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely Caesar’s ambition shall be glanced at: And after this let Caesar seat him sure; For we will shake him, or worse days endure. Exit.

Scene III

The same. A street.

	Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero.
Cicero	Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home? Why are you breathless? and why stare you so?
Casca	Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threatening clouds: But never till 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.
Cicero	Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
Casca	A common slave⁠—you know him well by sight⁠— Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn Like twenty torches join’d, and yet his hand, Not sensible of fire, remain’d unscorch’d. Besides⁠—I ha’ not since put up my sword⁠— Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glared upon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me: and there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. And yesterday the bird of night did sit Even at 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.
Cicero	Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow?
Casca	He doth; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you he would be there to-morrow.
Cicero	Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky Is not to walk in.
Casca	Farewell, Cicero. Exit Cicero.
	Enter Cassius.
Cassius	Who’s there?
Casca	A Roman.
Cassius	Casca, by your voice.
Casca	Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
Cassius	A very pleasing night to honest men.
Casca	Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
Cassius	Those that have known the earth so full of faults. For my part, I have walk’d about the streets, Submitting me unto the perilous night, And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, Have bared my bosom to the 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.
Casca	But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? It is the part of men to fear and tremble, When the most mighty gods by tokens send Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
Cassius	You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life That should be in a Roman you do want, Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder, To see the strange impatience of the heavens: But if you would consider the true cause Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, Why old men fool and children calculate, Why all these things change from their ordinance Their natures and preformed faculties To monstrous quality⁠—why, you shall find That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, To make them instruments of fear and warning Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man Most like this dreadful night, That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars As doth the lion in the Capitol, A man no mightier than thyself or me In personal action, yet prodigious grown And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
Casca	’Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?
Cassius	Let it be who it is: for Romans now Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; But, woe the while! our fathers’ minds are dead, And we are govern’d with our mothers’ spirits; Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.
Casca	Indeed, they say the senators to-morrow Mean to establish Caesar as a king; And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, In every place, save here in Italy.
Cassius	I know where I will wear this dagger then; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this, know all the world besides, That part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure. Thunder still.
Casca	So can I: So every bondman in his own hand bears The power to cancel his captivity.
Cassius	And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. Those that with haste will make a mighty fire Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome, What rubbish and what offal, when it serves For the base matter to illuminate So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this Before a willing bondman; then I know My answer must be made. But I am arm’d, And dangers are to me indifferent.
Casca	You speak to Casca, and to such a man That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: Be factious for redress of all these griefs, And I will set this foot of mine as far As who goes farthest.
Cassius	There’s a bargain made. Now know you, Casca, I have moved already Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans To undergo with me an enterprise Of honourable-dangerous consequence; And I do know, by this, they stay for me In Pompey’s porch: for now, this fearful night, There is no stir or walking in the streets; And the complexion of the element In favour’s like the work we have in hand, Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
Casca	Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
Cassius	’Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; He is a friend.
	Enter Cinna.
	Cinna, where haste you so?
Cinna	To find out you. Who’s that? Metellus Cimber?
Cassius	No, it is Casca; one incorporate To our attempts. Am I not stay’d for, Cinna?
Cinna	I am glad on’t. What a fearful night is this! There’s two or three of us have seen strange sights.
Cassius	Am I not stay’d for? tell me.
Cinna	Yes, you are. O Cassius, if you could But win the noble Brutus to our party⁠—
Cassius	Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper, And look you lay it in the praetor’s chair, Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this In at his window; set this up with wax Upon old Brutus’ statue: all this done, Repair to Pompey’s porch, where you shall find us. Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
Cinna	All but Metellus Cimber; and he’s gone To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
Cassius	That done, repair to Pompey’s theatre. Exit Cinna. Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day See Brutus at his house: three parts of him Is ours already, and the man entire Upon the next encounter yields him ours.
Casca	O, he sits high in all the people’s hearts: And that which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchemy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
Cassius	Him and his worth and our great need of him You have right well conceited. Let us go, For it is after midnight; and ere day We will awake him and be sure of him. Exeunt.

Act II

Scene I

Rome. Brutus’s orchard.

	Enter Brutus.
Brutus	What, Lucius, ho! I cannot, by the progress of the stars, Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say! I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius!
	Enter Lucius.
Lucius	Call’d you, my lord?
Brutus	Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: When it is lighted, come and call me here.
Lucius	I will, my lord. Exit.
Brutus	It must be by his death: and for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him, But for the general. He would be crown’d: How that might change his nature, there’s the question. It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; And that craves wary walking. Crown him?⁠—that;⁠— And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, That at his will he may do danger with. The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar, I have not known when his affections sway’d More than his reason. But ’tis a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition’s ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel Will bear no colour for the thing he is, Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, Would run to these and these extremities: And therefore think him as a serpent’s egg Which, hatch’d, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, And kill him in the shell.
	Re-enter Lucius.
Lucius	The taper burneth in your closet, sir. Searching the window for a flint, I found This paper, thus seal’d up; and, I am sure, It did not lie there when I went to bed. Gives him the letter.
Brutus	Get you to bed again; it is not day. Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?
Lucius	I know not, sir.
Brutus	Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
Lucius	I will, sir. Exit.
Brutus	The exhalations whizzing in the air Give so much light that I may read by them. Opens the letter and reads. “Brutus, thou sleep’st: awake, and see thyself. Shall Rome, etc. Speak, strike, redress! Brutus, thou sleep’st: awake!” Such instigations have been often dropp’d Where I have took them up. “Shall Rome, etc.” Thus must I piece it out: Shall Rome stand under one man’s awe? What, Rome? My ancestors did from the streets of Rome The Tarquin drive, when he was call’d a king. “Speak, strike, redress!” Am I entreated To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise: If the redress will follow, thou receivest Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!
	Re-enter Lucius.
Lucius	Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. Knocking within.
Brutus	’Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. Exit Lucius. Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
	Re-enter Lucius.
Lucius	Sir, ’tis your brother Cassius at the door, Who doth desire to see you.
Brutus	Is he alone?
Lucius	No, sir, there are moe with him.
Brutus	Do you know them?
Lucius	No, sir; their hats are pluck’d about their ears, And half their faces buried in their cloaks, That by no means I may discover them By any mark of favour.
Brutus	Let ’em enter. Exit Lucius. They are the faction. O conspiracy, Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are most free? O, then by day Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; Hide it in smiles and affability: For if thou path, thy native semblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention.
	Enter the conspirators, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and Trebonius.
Cassius	I think we are too bold upon your rest: Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?
Brutus	I have been up this hour, awake all night. Know I these men that come along with you?
Cassius	Yes, every man of them, and no man here But honours you; and everyone doth wish You had but that opinion of yourself Which every noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius.
Brutus	He is welcome hither.
Cassius	This, Decius Brutus.
Brutus	He is welcome too.
Cassius	This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.
Brutus	They are all welcome. What watchful cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your eyes and night?
Cassius	Shall I entreat a word? Brutus and Cassius whisper.
Decius	Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?
Casca	No.
Cinna	O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
Casca	You shall confess that you are both deceived. Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, Which is a great way growing on the south, Weighing the youthful season of the year. Some two months hence up higher toward the north He first presents his fire; and the high east Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.
Brutus	Give me your hands all over, one by one.
Cassius	And let us swear our resolution.
Brutus	No, not an oath: if not the face of men, The sufferance of our souls, the time’s abuse⁠— If these be motives weak, break off betimes, And every man hence to his idle bed; So let high-sighted tyranny range on, Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, As I am sure they do, bear fire enough To kindle cowards and to steel with valour The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, What need we any spur but our own cause, To prick us to redress? what other bond Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, And will not palter? and what other oath Than honesty to honesty engaged, That this shall be, or we will fall for it? Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain The even virtue of our enterprise, Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits, To think that or our cause or our performance Did need an oath; when every drop of blood That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, Is guilty of a several bastardy, If he do break the smallest particle Of any promise that hath pass’d from him.
Cassius	But what of Cicero? shall we sound him? I think he will stand very strong with us.
Casca	Let us not leave him out.
Cinna	No, by no means.
Metellus	O, let us have him, for his silver hairs Will purchase us a good opinion And buy men’s voices to commend our deeds: It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands; Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, But all be buried in his gravity.
Brutus	O, name him not: let us not break with him; For he will never follow anything That other men begin.
Cassius	Then leave him out.
Casca	Indeed he is not fit.
Decius	Shall no man else be touch’d but only Caesar?
Cassius	Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet, Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, If he improve them, may well stretch so far As to annoy us all: which to prevent, Let Antony and Caesar fall together.
Brutus	Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; For Antony is but a limb of Caesar: Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar; And in the spirit of men there is no blood: O, that we then could come by Caesar’s spirit, And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, Let’s kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods, Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds: And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, Stir up their servants to an act of rage, And after seem to chide ’em. This shall make Our purpose necessary and not envious: Which so appearing to the common eyes, We shall be call’d purgers, not murderers. And for Mark Antony, think not of him; For he can do no more than Caesar’s arm When Caesar’s head is off.
Cassius	Yet I fear him; For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar⁠—
Brutus	Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: If he love Caesar, all that he can do Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar: And that were much he should; for he is given To sports, to wildness and much company.
Trebonius	There is no fear in him: let him not die; For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. Clock strikes.
Brutus	Peace! count the clock.
Cassius	The clock hath stricken three.
Trebonius	’Tis time to part.
Cassius	But it is doubtful yet, Whether Caesar will come forth 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.
Decius	Never fear that: if he be so resolved, I can o’ersway him; for he loves to hear That unicorns may be betray’d with trees, And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, Lions with toils and men with flatterers; But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being then most flattered. Let me work; For I can give his humour the true bent, And I will bring him to the Capitol.
Cassius	Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
Brutus	By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost?
Cinna	Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.
Metellus	Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey: I wonder none of you have thought of him.
Brutus	Now, good Metellus, go along by him: He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; Send him but hither, and I’ll fashion him.
Cassius	The morning comes upon’s: we’ll leave you, Brutus. And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.
Brutus	Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; Let not our looks put on our purposes, But bear it as our Roman actors do, With untired spirits and formal constancy: And so good morrow to you everyone. Exeunt all but Brutus. Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep’st so sound.
	Enter Portia.
Portia	Brutus, my lord!
Brutus	Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now? It is not for your health thus to commit Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.
Portia	Nor for yours neither. 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 stared upon me with ungentle looks; I urged you further; then you scratch’d your head, And too impatiently stamp’d with your foot; Yet I insisted, yet you answer’d not, But, with an angry wafture of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did; Fearing to strengthen that impatience Which seem’d too much enkindled, and withal Hoping it was but an effect of humour, Which sometime hath his hour with every man. It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, And could it work so much upon your shape As it hath much prevail’d on your condition, I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
Brutus	I am not well in health, and that is all.
Portia	Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, He would embrace the means to come by it.
Brutus	Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.
Portia	Is Brutus sick? and is it physical To walk unbraced and suck up the humours Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, To dare the vile contagion of the night And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; You have some sick 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 to resort to you: for here have been Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness.
Brutus	Kneel not, gentle Portia.
Portia	I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted I should know no secrets That appertain to you? Am I yourself But, as it were, in sort or limitation, To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus’ harlot, not his wife.
Brutus	You are my true and honourable wife, As dear to me as are the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart.
Portia	If this were true, then should I know this secret. I grant I am a woman; but withal A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: I grant I am a woman; but withal A woman well-reputed, Cato’s daughter. Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father’d and so husbanded? Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose ’em: I have made strong proof of my constancy, Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience, And not my husband’s secrets?
Brutus	O ye gods, Render me worthy of this noble wife! Knocking within. Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile; And by and by thy bosom shall partake The secrets of my heart. All my engagements I will construe to thee, All the charactery of my sad brows: Leave me with haste. Exit Portia. Lucius, who’s that knocks?
	Re-enter Lucius with Ligarius.
Lucius	Here is a sick man that would speak with you.
Brutus	Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how?
Ligarius	Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.
Brutus	O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!
Ligarius	I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand Any exploit worthy the name of honour.
Brutus	Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.
Ligarius	By all the gods that Romans bow before, I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome! Brave son, derived from honourable loins! Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, And I will strive with things impossible; Yea, get the better of them. What’s to do?
Brutus	A piece of work that will make sick men whole.
Ligarius	But are not some whole that we must make sick?
Brutus	That must we also. What it is, my Caius, I shall unfold to thee, as we are going To whom it must be done.
Ligarius	Set on your foot, And with a heart new-fired I follow you, To do I know not what: but it sufficeth That Brutus leads me on.
Brutus	Follow me, then. Exeunt.

Scene II

Caesar’s house.

	Thunder and lightning. Enter Caesar, in his night-gown.
Caesar	Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night: Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, “Help, ho! they murder Caesar!” Who’s within?
	Enter a Servant.
Servant	My lord?
Caesar	Go bid the priests do present sacrifice And bring me their opinions of success.
Servant	I will, my lord. Exit.
	Enter Calpurnia.
Calpurnia	What mean you, Caesar, think you to walk forth? You shall not stir out of your house to-day.
Caesar	Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten’d me Ne’er look’d but on my back; when they shall see The face of Caesar, they are vanished.
Calpurnia	Caesar, I 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 fought upon the clouds, In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol; The noise of battle hurtled in the air, Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them.
Caesar	What can be avoided Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions Are to the world in general as to Caesar.
Calpurnia	When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
Caesar	Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
	Re-enter Servant.
	What say the augurers?
Servant	They would not have you to stir forth to-day. Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, They could not find a heart within the beast.
Caesar	The gods do this in shame of cowardice: Caesar should be a beast without a heart, If he should stay at home to-day for fear. No, Caesar shall not: danger knows full well That Caesar is more dangerous than he: We are two lions litter’d in one day, And I the elder and more terrible: And Caesar shall go forth.
Calpurnia	Alas, my lord, Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. Do not go forth 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.
Caesar	Mark Antony shall say I am not well; And, for thy humour, I will stay at home.
	Enter Decius.
	Here’s Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.
Decius	Caesar, all hail! good morrow, worthy Caesar: I come to fetch you to the senate-house.
Caesar	And you are come in very happy time, To bear my greeting to the senators And tell them that I will not come to-day: Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser: I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius.
Calpurnia	Say he is sick.
Caesar	Shall Caesar send a lie? Have I in conquest stretch’d mine arm so far, To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth? Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.
Decius	Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, Lest I be laugh’d at when I tell them so.
Caesar	The cause is in my will: I will not come; That is enough to satisfy the senate. But for your private satisfaction, Because I love you, I will let you know: Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home: She dreamt to-night she saw my statua, Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it: And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, And evils imminent; and on her knee Hath begg’d that I will stay at home to-day.
Decius	This dream is all amiss interpreted; It was a vision fair and fortunate: Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, In which so many smiling Romans bathed, Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck Reviving blood, and that great men shall press For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance. This by Calpurnia’s dream is signified.
Caesar	And this way have you well expounded it.
Decius	I have, when you have heard what I can say: And know it now: the senate have concluded To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. If you shall send them word you will not come, Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock Apt to be render’d, for someone to say “Break up the senate till another time, When Caesar’s wife shall meet with better dreams.” If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper “Lo, Caesar is afraid”? Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love To our proceeding bids me tell you this; And reason to my love is liable.
Caesar	How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia! I am ashamed I did yield to them. Give me my robe, for I will go.
	Enter Publius, Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca, Trebonius, and Cinna.
	And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
Publius	Good morrow, Caesar.
Caesar	Welcome, Publius. What, Brutus, are you stirr’d so early too? Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, Caesar was ne’er so much your enemy As that same ague which hath made you lean. What is’t o’clock?
Brutus	Caesar, ’tis strucken eight.
Caesar	I thank you for your pains and courtesy.
	Enter Antony.
	See! Antony, that revels long o’ nights, Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.
Antony	So to most noble Caesar.
Caesar	Bid them prepare within: I am to blame to be thus waited for. Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius! I have an hour’s talk in store for you; Remember that you call on me to-day: Be near me, that I may remember you.
Trebonius	Caesar, I will: Aside and so near will I be, That your best friends shall wish I had been further.
Caesar	Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me; And we, like friends, will straightway go together.
Brutus	Aside That every like is not the same, O Caesar, The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! Exeunt.

Scene III

A street near the Capitol.

	Enter Artemidorus, reading a paper.
Artemidorus	“Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark well Metellus Cimber: Decius Brutus loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover, “Artemidorus.”
	Here will I stand till Caesar pass along, And as a suitor will I give him this. My heart laments that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation. If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live; If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. Exit.

Scene IV

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

	Enter Portia and Lucius.
Portia	I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house; Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone: Why dost thou stay?
Lucius	To know my errand, madam.
Portia	I would have had thee there, and here again, Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. O constancy, be strong upon my side, Set a huge mountain ’tween my heart and tongue! I have a man’s mind, but a woman’s might. How hard it is for women to keep counsel! Art thou here yet?
Lucius	Madam, what should I do? Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? And so return to you, and nothing else?
Portia	Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, For he went sickly forth: and take good note What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. Hark, boy! what noise is that?
Lucius	I hear none, madam.
Portia	Prithee, listen well; I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray, And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
Lucius	Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.
	Enter the Soothsayer.
Portia	Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been?
Soothsayer	At mine own house, good lady.
Portia	What is’t o’clock?
Soothsayer	About the ninth hour, lady.
Portia	Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
Soothsayer	Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, To see him pass on to the Capitol.
Portia	Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?
Soothsayer	That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
Portia	Why, know’st thou any harm’s intended towards him?
Soothsayer	None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow: The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, Of senators, of praetors, common suitors, Will crowd a feeble man almost to death: I’ll get me to a place more void, and there Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. Exit.
Portia	I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing The heart of woman is! O Brutus, The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint. Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; Say I am merry: come to me again, And bring me word what he doth say to thee. Exeunt severally.

Act III

Scene I

Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above.

	A crowd of people; among them Artemidorus and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, Lepidus, Popilius, Publius, and others.
Caesar	To the Soothsayer The ides of March are come.
Soothsayer	Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
Artemidorus	Hail, Caesar! read this schedule.
Decius	Trebonius doth desire you to o’er-read, At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
Artemidorus	O Caesar, read mine first; for mine’s a suit That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar.
Caesar	What touches us ourself shall be last served.
Artemidorus	Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly.
Caesar	What, is the fellow mad?
Publius	Sirrah, give place.
Cassius	What, urge you your petitions in the street? Come to the Capitol.
	Caesar goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following.
Popilius	I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.
Cassius	What enterprise, Popilius?
Popilius	Fare you well. Advances to Caesar.
Brutus	What said Popilius Lena?
Cassius	He wish’d to-day our enterprise might thrive. I fear our purpose is discovered.
Brutus	Look, how he makes to Caesar: mark him.
Cassius	Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, For I will slay myself.
Brutus	Cassius, be constant: Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.
Cassius	Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus, He draws Mark Antony out of the way. Exeunt Antony and Trebonius.
Decius	Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.
Brutus	He is address’d: press near and second him.
Cinna	Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.
Caesar	Are we all ready? What is now amiss That Caesar and his senate must redress?
Metellus	Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat An humble heart⁠—Kneeling.
Caesar	I must prevent thee, Cimber. These couchings and these lowly courtesies Might fire the blood of ordinary men, And turn pre-ordinance and first decree Into the law of children. Be not fond, To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood That will be thaw’d from the true quality With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, Low-crooked court’sies and base spaniel-fawning. Thy brother by decree is banished: If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied.
Metellus	Is there no voice more worthy than my own, To sound more sweetly in great Caesar’s ear For the repealing of my banish’d brother?
Brutus	I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
Caesar	What, Brutus!
Cassius	Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
Cassius	I could be well moved, if I were as you; If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true-fix’d and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament. The skies are painted with unnumber’d sparks, They are all fire and everyone doth shine, But there’s but one in all doth hold his place: So in the world; ’tis furnish’d well with men, And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; Yet in the number I do know but one That unassailable holds on his rank, Unshaked of motion: and that I am he, Let me a little show it, even in this; That I was constant Cimber should be banish’d, And constant do remain to keep him so.
Cinna	O Caesar⁠—
Caesar	Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Decius	Great Caesar⁠—
Caesar	Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
Casca	Speak, hands for me! Casca first, then the other Conspirators and Marcus Brutus stab Caesar.
Caesar	Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar. Dies.
Cinna	Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
Cassius	Some to the common pulpits, and cry out “Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!”
Brutus	People and senators, be not affrighted; Fly not; stand still: ambition’s debt is paid.
Casca	Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
Decius	And Cassius too.
Brutus	Where’s Publius?
Cinna	Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
Metellus	Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar’s Should chance⁠—
Brutus	Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; There is no harm intended to your person, Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius.
Cassius	And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
Brutus	Do so: and let no man abide this deed, But we the doers.
	Re-enter Trebonius.
Cassius	Where is Antony?
Trebonius	Fled to his house amazed: Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run As it were doomsday.
Brutus	Fates, we will know your pleasures: That we shall die, we know; ’tis but the time And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
Cassius	Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
Brutus	Grant that, and then is death a benefit: So are we Caesar’s friends, that have abridged His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, And let us bathe our hands in Caesar’s blood Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, And, waving our red weapons o’er our heads, Let’s all cry “Peace, freedom and liberty!”
Cassius	Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
Brutus	How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey’s basis lies along No worthier than the dust!
Cassius	So oft as that shall be, So often shall the knot of us be call’d The men that gave their country liberty.
Decius	What, shall we forth?
Cassius	Ay, every man away: Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
	Enter a Servant.
Brutus	Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony’s.
Servant	Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel; Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; Say I fear’d Caesar, honour’d him and loved him. If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolved How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead So well as Brutus living; but will follow The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus Thorough the hazards of this untrod state With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
Brutus	Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; I never thought him worse. Tell him, so please him come unto this place, He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, Depart untouch’d.
Servant	I’ll fetch him presently. Exit.
Brutus	I know that we shall have him well to friend.
Cassius	I wish we may: but yet have I a mind That fears him much; and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
Brutus	But here comes Antony.
	Re-enter Antony.
	Welcome, Mark Antony.
Antony	O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: If I myself, there is no hour so fit As Caesar’s death hour, nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich With the most noble blood of all this world. I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die: No place will please me so, no mean of death, As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, The choice and master spirits of this age.
Brutus	O Antony, beg not your death of us. Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As, by our hands and this our present act, You see we do, yet see you but our hands And this the bleeding business they have done: Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; And pity to the general wrong of Rome⁠— As fire drives out fire, so pity pity⁠— Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony: Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts Of brothers’ temper, do receive you in With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Cassius	Your voice shall be as strong as any man’s In the disposing of new dignities.
Brutus	Only be patient till we have appeased The multitude, beside themselves with fear, And then we will deliver you the cause, Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, Have thus proceeded.
Antony	I doubt not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand: First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; Now, Decius Brutus, yours; now yours, Metellus; Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius. Gentlemen all⁠—alas, what shall I say? My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward or a flatterer. That I did love thee, Caesar, O, ’tis true: If then thy spirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, To see thy Anthony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, It would become me better than to close In terms of friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay’d, brave hart; Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, Sign’d in thy spoil, and crimson’d in thy lethe. O world, thou wast the forest to this hart; And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. How like a deer, strucken by many princes, Dost thou here lie!
Cassius	Mark Antony⁠—
Antony	Pardon me, Caius Cassius: The enemies of Caesar shall say this; Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
Cassius	I blame you not for praising Caesar so; But what compact mean you to have with us? Will you be prick’d in number of our friends; Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
Antony	Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, Sway’d from the point, by looking down on Caesar. Friends am I with you all and love you all, Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous.
Brutus	Or else were this a savage spectacle: Our reasons are so full of good regard That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, You should be satisfied.
Antony	That’s all I seek: And am moreover suitor that I may Produce his body to the market-place; And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, Speak in the order of his funeral.
Brutus	You shall, Mark Antony.
Cassius	Brutus, a word with you. Aside to Brutus. You know not what you do: do not consent That Antony speak in his funeral: Know you how much the people may be moved By that which he will utter?
Brutus	By your pardon; I will myself into the pulpit first, And show the reason of our Caesar’s death: What Antony shall speak, I will protest He speaks by leave and by permission, And that we are contented Caesar shall Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
Cassius	I know not what may fall; I like it not.
Brutus	Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar’s body. You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, And say you do’t by our permission; Else shall you not have any hand at all About his funeral: and you shall speak In the same pulpit whereto I am going, After my speech is ended.
Antony	Be it so; I do desire no more.
Brutus	Prepare the body then, and follow us. Exeunt all but Antony.
Antony	O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers! Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! Over thy wounds now do I prophesy⁠— Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue⁠— A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; Blood and destruction shall be so in use And dreadful objects so familiar That mothers shall but smile when they behold Their infants quarter’d with the hands of war; All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: And Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge, With Ate by his side come hot from hell, Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice Cry “Havoc,” and let slip the dogs of war; That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial.
	Enter a Servant.
	You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?
Servant	I do, Mark Antony.
Antony	Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.
Servant	He did receive his letters, and is coming; And bid me say to you by word of mouth⁠— O Caesar!⁠—Seeing the body.
Antony	Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water. Is thy master coming?
Servant	He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome.
Antony	Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse Into the market-place: there shall I try, In my oration, how the people take The cruel issue of these bloody men; According to the which, thou shalt discourse To young Octavius of the state of things. Lend me your hand. Exeunt with Caesar’s body.

Scene II

The Forum.

	Enter Brutus and Cassius, and a throng of Citizens.
Citizens	We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.
Brutus	Then follow me, and give me audience, friends. Cassius, go you into the other street, And part the numbers. Those that will hear me speak, let ’em stay here; Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; And public reasons shall be rendered Of Caesar’s death.
First Citizen	I will hear Brutus speak.
Second Citizen	I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons, When severally we hear them rendered. Exit Cassius, with some of the Citizens. Brutus goes into the pulpit.
Third Citizen	The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!
Brutus	Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar’s, to him I say, that Brutus’ love to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer:⁠—Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
All	None, Brutus, none.
Brutus	Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy, nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death.
	Enter Antony and others, with Caesar’s body.
	Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart⁠—that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
All	Live, Brutus! live, live!
First Citizen	Bring him with triumph home unto his house.
Second Citizen	Give him a statue with his ancestors.
Third Citizen	Let him be Caesar.
Fourth Citizen	Caesar’s better parts Shall be crown’d in Brutus.
First Citizen	We’ll bring him to his house With shouts and clamours.
Brutus	My countrymen⁠—
Second Citizen	Peace, silence! Brutus speaks.
First Citizen	Peace, ho!
Brutus	Good countrymen, let me depart alone, And, for my sake, stay here with Antony: Do grace to Caesar’s corpse, and grace his speech Tending to Caesar’s glories; which Mark Antony, By our permission, is allow’d to make. I do entreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. Exit.
First Citizen	Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.
Third Citizen	Let him go up into the public chair; We’ll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.
Antony	For Brutus’ sake, I am beholding to you. Goes into the pulpit.
Fourth Citizen	What does he say of Brutus?
Third Citizen	He says, for Brutus’ sake, He finds himself beholding to us all.
Fourth Citizen	’Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.
First Citizen	This Caesar was a tyrant.
Third Citizen	Nay, that’s certain: We are blest that Rome is rid of him.
Second Citizen	Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.
Antony	You gentle Romans⁠—
Citizens	Peace, ho! let us hear him.
Antony	Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest⁠— For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men⁠— Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause: What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him? O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason. Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me.
First Citizen	Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
Second Citizen	If thou consider rightly of the matter, Caesar has had great wrong.
Third Citizen	Has he, masters? I fear there will a worse come in his place.
Fourth Citizen	Mark’d ye his words? He would not take the crown; Therefore ’tis certain he was not ambitious.
First Citizen	If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
Second Citizen	Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
Third Citizen	There’s not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
Fourth Citizen	Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
Antony	But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. O masters, if I were disposed to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, Who, you all know, are honourable men: I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, Than I will wrong such honourable men. But here’s a parchment with the seal of Caesar; I found it in his closet, ’tis his will: Let but the commons hear this testament⁠— Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read⁠— And they would go and kiss dead Caesar’s wounds And dip their napkins in his sacred blood, Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue.
Fourth Citizen	We’ll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
All	The will, the will! we will hear Caesar’s will.
Antony	Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it; It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men; And, being men, bearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad: ’Tis good you know not that you are his heirs; For, if you should, O, what would come of it!
Fourth Citizen	Read the will; we’ll hear it, Antony; You shall read us the will, Caesar’s will.
Antony	Will you be patient? will you stay awhile? I have o’ershot myself to tell you of it: I fear I wrong the honourable men Whose daggers have stabb’d Caesar; I do fear it.
Fourth Citizen	They were traitors: honourable men!
All	The will! the testament!
Second Citizen	They were villains, murderers: the will! read the will.
Antony	You will compel me, then, to read the will? Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?
Several Citizens	Come down.
Second Citizen	Descend.
Third Citizen	You shall have leave. Antony comes down.
Fourth Citizen	A ring; stand round.
First Citizen	Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
Second Citizen	Room for Antony, most noble Antony.
Antony	Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.
Several Citizens	Stand back; room; bear back.
Antony	If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; ’Twas on a summer’s evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii: Look, in this place ran Cassius’ dagger through: See what a rent the envious Casca made: Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb’d; And as he pluck’d his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar follow’d it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knock’d, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar’s angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms, Quite vanquish’d him: then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey’s statua, Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish’d over us. O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity: these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold Our Caesar’s vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is himself, marr’d, as you see, with traitors.
First Citizen	O piteous spectacle!
Second Citizen	O noble Caesar!
Third Citizen	O woful day!
Fourth Citizen	O traitors, villains!
First Citizen	O most bloody sight!
Second Citizen	We will be revenged.
All	Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill! Slay! Let not a traitor live!
Antony	Stay, countrymen.
First Citizen	Peace there! hear the noble Antony.
Second Citizen	We’ll hear him, we’ll follow him, we’ll die with him.
Antony	Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honourable: What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, That made them do it: they are wise and honourable, And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts: I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him: For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men’s blood: I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar’s wounds, poor poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
All	We’ll mutiny.
First Citizen	We’ll burn the house of Brutus.
Third Citizen	Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.
Antony	Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
All	Peace, ho! Hear Antony. Most noble Antony!
Antony	Why, friends, you go to do you know not what: Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves? Alas, you know not: I must tell you then: You have forgot the will I told you of.
All	Most true. The will! Let’s stay and hear the will.
Antony	Here is the will, and under Caesar’s seal. To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
Second Citizen	Most noble Caesar! We’ll revenge his death.
Third Citizen	O royal Caesar!
Antony	Hear me with patience.
All	Peace, ho!
Antony	Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbours and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber; he hath left them you, And to your heirs forever, common pleasures, To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?
First Citizen	Never, never. Come, away, away! We’ll burn his body in the holy place, And with the brands fire the traitors’ houses. Take up the body.
Second Citizen	Go fetch fire.
Third Citizen	Pluck down benches.
Fourth Citizen	Pluck down forms, windows, anything. Exeunt Citizens with the body.
Antony	Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt!
	Enter a Servant.
	How now, fellow!
Servant	Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
Antony	Where is he?
Servant	He and Lepidus are at Caesar’s house.
Antony	And thither will I straight to visit him: He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry, And in this mood will give us anything.
Servant	I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
Antony	Belike they had some notice of the people, How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. Exeunt.

Scene III

A street.

	Enter Cinna the poet.
Cinna	I dreamt to-night that I did feast with Caesar, And things unluckily charge my fantasy: I have no will to wander forth of doors, Yet something leads me forth.
	Enter Citizens.
First Citizen	What is your name?
Second Citizen	Whither are you going?
Third Citizen	Where do you dwell?
Fourth Citizen	Are you a married man or a bachelor?
Second Citizen	Answer every man directly.
First Citizen	Ay, and briefly.
Fourth Citizen	Ay, and wisely.
Third Citizen	Ay, and truly, you were best.
Cinna	What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I a married man or a bachelor? Then, to answer every man directly and briefly, wisely and truly: wisely I say, I am a bachelor.
Second Citizen	That’s as much as to say, they are fools that marry: you’ll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed; directly.
Cinna	Directly, I am going to Caesar’s funeral.
First Citizen	As a friend or an enemy?
Cinna	As a friend.
Second Citizen	That matter is answered directly.
Fourth Citizen	For your dwelling⁠—briefly.
Cinna	Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.
Third Citizen	Your name, sir, truly.
Cinna	Truly, my name is Cinna.
First Citizen	Tear him to pieces; he’s a conspirator.
Cinna	I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.
Fourth Citizen	Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses.
Cinna	I am not Cinna the conspirator.
Fourth Citizen	It is no matter, his name’s Cinna; pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going.
Third Citizen	Tear him, tear him! Come, brands ho! fire-brands: to Brutus’, to Cassius’; burn all: some to Decius’ house, and some to Casca’s; some to Ligarius’: away, go! Exeunt.

Act IV

Scene I

A house in Rome.

	Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus, seated at a table.
Antony	These many, then, shall die; their names are prick’d.
Octavius	Your brother too must die; consent you, Lepidus?
Lepidus	I do consent⁠—
Octavius	Prick him down, Antony.
Lepidus	Upon condition Publius shall not live, Who is your sister’s son, Mark Antony.
Antony	He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him. But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar’s house; Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine How to cut off some charge in legacies.
Lepidus	What, shall I find you here?
Octavius	Or here, or at the Capitol. Exit Lepidus.
Antony	This is a slight unmeritable man, Meet to be sent on errands: is it fit, The three-fold world divided, he should stand One of the three to share it?
Octavius	So you thought him; And took his voice who should be prick’d to die, In our black sentence and proscription.
Antony	Octavius, I have seen more days than you: And though we lay these honours on this man, To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads, He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold, To groan and sweat under the business, Either led or driven, as we point the way; And having brought our treasure where we will, Then take we down his load, and turn him off, Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears, And graze in commons.
Octavius	You may do your will; But he’s a tried and valiant soldier.
Antony	So is my horse, Octavius; and for that I do appoint him store of provender: It is a creature that I teach to fight, To wind, to stop, to run directly on, His corporal motion govern’d by my spirit. And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so; He must be taught and train’d and bid go forth; A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds On abjects, orts and imitations, Which, out of use and staled by other men, Begin his fashion: do not talk of him, But as a property. And now, Octavius, Listen great things:⁠—Brutus and Cassius Are levying powers: we must straight make head: Therefore let our alliance be combined, Our best friends made, our means stretch’d; And let us presently go sit in council, How covert matters may be best disclosed, And open perils surest answered.
Octavius	Let us do so: for we are at the stake, And bay’d about with many enemies; And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, Millions of mischiefs. Exeunt.

Scene II

Camp near Sardis. Before Brutus’s tent.

	Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucilius, Lucius, and Soldiers; Titinius and Pindarus meeting them.
Brutus	Stand, ho!
Lucilius	Give the word, ho! and stand.
Brutus	What now, Lucilius! is Cassius near?
Lucilius	He is at hand; and Pindarus is come To do you salutation from his master.
Brutus	He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus, In his own change, or by ill officers, Hath given me some worthy cause to wish Things done, undone: but, if he be at hand, I shall be satisfied.
Pindarus	I do not doubt But that my noble master will appear Such as he is, full of regard and honour.
Brutus	He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius; How he received you, let me be resolved.
Lucilius	With courtesy and with respect enough; But not with such familiar instances, Nor with such free and friendly conference, As he hath used of old.
Brutus	Thou hast described A hot friend cooling: ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay, It useth an enforced ceremony. There are no tricks in plain and simple faith; But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, Make gallant show and promise of their mettle; But when they should endure the bloody spur, They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades, Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?
Lucilius	They mean this night in Sardis to be quarter’d; The greater part, the horse in general, Are come with Cassius.
Brutus	Hark! he is arrived. Low march within. March gently on to meet him.
	Enter Cassius and his powers.
Cassius	Stand, ho!
Brutus	Stand, ho! Speak the word along.
First Soldier	Stand!
Second Soldier	Stand!
Third Soldier	Stand!
Cassius	Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
Brutus	Judge me, you gods! wrong I mine enemies? And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?
Cassius	Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs; And when you do them⁠—
Brutus	Cassius, be content; Speak your griefs softly: I do know you well. Before the eyes of both our armies here, Which should perceive nothing but love from us, Let us not wrangle: bid them move away; Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs, And I will give you audience.
Cassius	Pindarus, Bid our commanders lead their charges off A little from this ground.
Brutus	Lucilius, do you the like; and let no man Come to our tent till we have done our conference. Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door. Exeunt.

Scene III

Brutus’s tent.

	Enter Brutus and Cassius.
Cassius	That you have wrong’d me doth appear in this: You have condemn’d and noted Lucius Pella For taking bribes here of the Sardians; Wherein my letters, praying on his side, Because I knew the man, were slighted off.
Brutus	You wrong’d yourself to write in such a case.
Cassius	In such a time as this it is not meet That every nice offence should bear his comment.
Brutus	Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemn’d to have an itching palm; To sell and mart your offices for gold To undeservers.
Cassius	I an itching palm! You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.
Brutus	The name of Cassius honours this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.
Cassius	Chastisement!
Brutus	Remember March, the ides of March remember: Did not great Julius bleed for justice’ sake? What villain touch’d his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Cassius	Brutus, bay not me; I’ll not endure it: you forget yourself, To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I, Older in practice, abler than yourself To make conditions.
Brutus	Go to; you are not, Cassius.
Cassius	I am.
Brutus	I say you are not.
Cassius	Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.
Brutus	Away, slight man!
Cassius	Is’t possible?
Brutus	Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
Cassius	O ye gods, ye gods! must I endure all this?
Brutus	All this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break; Go show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I’ll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish.
Cassius	Is it come to this?
Brutus	You say you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well: for mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
Cassius	You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus; I said, an elder soldier, not a better: Did I say “better”?
Brutus	If you did, I care not.
Cassius	When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.
Brutus	Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him.
Cassius	I durst not!
Brutus	No.
Cassius	What, durst not tempt him!
Brutus	For your life you durst not.
Cassius	Do not presume too much upon my love; I may do that I shall be sorry for.
Brutus	You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am arm’d so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me: For I can raise no money by vile means: By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection: I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius? Should I have answer’d Caius Cassius so? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts; Dash him to pieces!
Cassius	I denied you not.
Brutus	You did.
Cassius	I did not: he was but a fool that brought My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart: A friend should bear his friend’s infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Brutus	I do not, till you practise them on me.
Cassius	You love me not.
Brutus	I do not like your faults.
Cassius	A friendly eye could never see such faults.
Brutus	A flatterer’s would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.
Cassius	Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is aweary of the world; Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother; Check’d like a bondman; all his faults observed, Set in a note-book, learn’d, and conn’d by rote, To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus’ mine, richer than gold: If that thou be’st a Roman, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike, as thou didst at Caesar; for, I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.
Brutus	Sheathe your dagger: Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour. O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.
Cassius	Hath Cassius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief, and blood ill-temper’d, vexeth him?
Brutus	When I spoke that, I was ill-temper’d too.
Cassius	Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
Brutus	And my heart too.
Cassius	O Brutus!
Brutus	What’s the matter?
Cassius	Have not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful?
Brutus	Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He’ll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
Poet	Within Let me go in to see the generals; There is some grudge between ’em, ’tis not meet They be alone.
Lucilius	Within You shall not come to them.
Poet	Within Nothing but death shall stay me.
	Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius.
Cassius	How now! what’s the matter?
Poet	For shame, you generals! what do you mean? Love, and be friends, as two such men should be; For I have seen more years, I’m sure, than ye.
Cassius	Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rhyme!
Brutus	Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!
Cassius	Bear with him, Brutus; ’tis his fashion.
Brutus	I’ll know his humour, when he knows his time: What should the wars do with these jigging fools? Companion, hence!
Cassius	Away, away, be gone! Exit Poet.
Brutus	Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.
Cassius	And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you Immediately to us. Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.
Brutus	Lucius, a bowl of wine! Exit Lucius.
Cassius	I did not think you could have been so angry.
Brutus	O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Cassius	Of your philosophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils.
Brutus	No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.
Cassius	Ha! Portia!
Brutus	She is dead.
Cassius	How ’scaped I killing when I cross’d you so? O insupportable and touching loss! Upon what sickness?
Brutus	Impatient of my absence, And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have made themselves so strong:⁠—for with her death That tidings came;⁠—with this she fell distract, And, her attendants absent, swallow’d fire.
Cassius	And died so?
Brutus	Even so.
Cassius	O ye immortal gods!
	Re-enter Lucius, with wine and taper.
Brutus	Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine. In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.
Cassius	My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. Fill, Lucius, till the wine o’erswell the cup; I cannot drink too much of Brutus’ love.
Brutus	Come in, Titinius! Exit Lucius.
	Re-enter Titinius, with Messala.
	Welcome, good Messala. Now sit we close about this taper here, And call in question our necessities.
Cassius	Portia, art thou gone?
Brutus	No more, I pray you. Messala, I have here received letters, That young Octavius and Mark Antony Come down upon us with a mighty power, Bending their expedition toward Philippi.
Messala	Myself have letters of the self-same tenor.
Brutus	With what addition?
Messala	That by proscription and bills of outlawry, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus, Have put to death an hundred senators.
Brutus	Therein our letters do not well agree; Mine speak of seventy senators that died By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.
Cassius	Cicero one!
Messala	Cicero is dead, And by that order of proscription. Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
Brutus	No, Messala.
Messala	Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
Brutus	Nothing, Messala.
Messala	That, methinks, is strange.
Brutus	Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours?
Messala	No, my lord.
Brutus	Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
Messala	Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell: For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.
Brutus	Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala: With meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now.
Messala	Even so great men great losses should endure.
Cassius	I have as much of this in art as you, But yet my nature could not bear it so.
Brutus	Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently?
Cassius	I do not think it good.
Brutus	Your reason?
Cassius	This it is: ’Tis better that the enemy seek us: So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still, Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness.
Brutus	Good reasons must, of force, give place to better. The people ’twixt Philippi and this ground Do stand but in a forced affection; For they have grudged us contribution: The enemy, marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number up, Come on refresh’d, new-added, and encouraged; From which advantage shall we cut him off, If at Philippi we do face him there, These people at our back.
Cassius	Hear me, good brother.
Brutus	Under your pardon. You must note beside, That we have tried the utmost of our friends, Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe: The enemy increaseth every day; We, at the height, are ready to decline. There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.
Cassius	Then, with your will, go on; We’ll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.
Brutus	The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And nature must obey necessity; Which we will niggard with a little rest. There is no more to say?
Cassius	No more. Good night: Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.
Brutus	Lucius! Enter Lucius. My gown. Exit Lucius. Farewell, good Messala: Good night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose.
Cassius	O my dear brother! This was an ill beginning of the night: Never come such division ’tween our souls! Let it not, Brutus.
Brutus	Everything is well.
Cassius	Good night, my lord.
Brutus	Good night, good brother.
Titinius and Messala	Good night, Lord Brutus.
Brutus	Farewell, everyone. Exeunt all but Brutus.
	Re-enter Lucius, with the gown.
	Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
Lucius	Here in the tent.
Brutus	What, thou speak’st drowsily? Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o’erwatch’d. Call Claudius and some other of my men; I’ll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
Lucius	Varro and Claudius!
	Enter Varro and Claudius.
Varro	Calls my lord?
Brutus	I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep; It may be I shall raise you by and by On business to my brother Cassius.
Varro	So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.
Brutus	I will not have it so: lie down, good sirs; It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. Look, Lucius, here’s the book I sought for so; I put it in the pocket of my gown. Varro and Claudius lie down.
Lucius	I was sure your lordship did not give it me.
Brutus	Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
Lucius	Ay, my lord, an’t please you.
Brutus	It does, my boy: I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
Lucius	It is my duty, sir.
Brutus	I should not urge thy duty past thy might; I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
Lucius	I have slept, my lord, already.
Brutus	It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again; I will not hold thee long: if I do live, I will be good to thee. Music, and a song. This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber, Lay’st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night; I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee: If thou dost nod, thou break’st thy instrument; I’ll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night. Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn’d down Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
	Enter the Ghost of Caesar.
	How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. It comes upon me. Art thou anything? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare? Speak to me what thou art.
Ghost	Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
Brutus	Why comest thou?
Ghost	To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Brutus	Well; then I shall see thee again?
Ghost	Ay, at Philippi.
Brutus	Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. Exit Ghost. Now I have taken heart thou vanishest: Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! Claudius!
Lucius	The strings, my lord, are false.
Brutus	He thinks he still is at his instrument. Lucius, awake!
Lucius	My lord?
Brutus	Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?
Lucius	My lord, I do not know that I did cry.
Brutus	Yes, that thou didst: didst thou see anything?
Lucius	Nothing, my lord.
Brutus	Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudius! To Varro. Fellow thou, awake!
Varro	My lord?
Claudius	My lord?
Brutus	Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?
Varro and Claudius	Did we, my lord?
Brutus	Ay: saw you anything?
Varro	No, my lord, I saw nothing.
Claudius	Nor I, my lord.
Brutus	Go and commend me to my brother Cassius; Bid him set on his powers betimes before, And we will follow.
Varro and Claudius	It shall be done, my lord. Exeunt.

Act V

Scene I

The plains of Philippi.

	Enter Octavius, Antony, and their army.
Octavius	Now, Antony, our hopes are answered: You said the enemy would not come down, But keep the hills and upper regions: It proves not so: their battles are at hand; They mean to warn us at Philippi here, Answering before we do demand of them.
Antony	Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know Wherefore they do it: they could be content To visit other places; and come down With fearful bravery, thinking by this face To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage; But ’tis not so.
	Enter a Messenger.
Messenger	Prepare you, generals: The enemy comes on in gallant show; Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, And something to be done immediately.
Antony	Octavius, lead your battle softly on, Upon the left hand of the even field.
Octavius	Upon the right hand I; keep thou the left.
Antony	Why do you cross me in this exigent?
Octavius	I do not cross you; but I will do so. March.
	Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army; Lucilius, Titinius, Messala, and others.
Brutus	They stand, and would have parley.
Cassius	Stand fast, Titinius: we must out and talk.
Octavius	Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?
Antony	No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge. Make forth; the generals would have some words.
Octavius	Stir not until the signal.
Brutus	Words before blows: is it so, countrymen?
Octavius	Not that we love words better, as you do.
Brutus	Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.
Antony	In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words: Witness the hole you made in Caesar’s heart, Crying “Long live! hail, Caesar!”
Cassius	Antony, The posture of your blows are yet unknown; But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless.
Antony	Not stingless too.
Brutus	O, yes, and soundless too; For you have stol’n their buzzing, Antony, And very wisely threat before you sting.
Antony	Villains, you did not so, when your vile daggers Hack’d one another in the sides of Caesar: You show’d your teeth like apes, and fawn’d like hounds, And bow’d like bondmen, kissing Caesar’s feet; Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers!
Cassius	Flatterers! Now, Brutus, thank yourself: This tongue had not offended so to-day, If Cassius might have ruled.
Octavius	Come, come, the cause: if arguing make us sweat, The proof of it will turn to redder drops. Look; I draw a sword against conspirators; When think you that the sword goes up again? Never, till Caesar’s three and thirty wounds Be well avenged; or till another Caesar Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
Brutus	Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors’ hands, Unless thou bring’st them with thee.
Octavius	So I hope; I was not born to die on Brutus’ sword.
Brutus	O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.
Cassius	A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour, Join’d with a masker and a reveller!
Antony	Old Cassius still!
Octavius	Come, Antony, away! Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth: If you dare fight to-day, come to the field; If not, when you have stomachs. Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their army.
Cassius	Why, now, blow wind, swell billow and swim bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Brutus	Ho, Lucilius! hark, a word with you.
Lucilius	Standing forth My lord? Brutus and Lucilius converse apart.
Cassius	Messala!
Messala	Standing forth What says my general?
Cassius	Messala, This is my birth-day; as this very day Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala: Be thou my witness that against my will, As Pompey was, am I compell’d to set Upon one battle all our liberties. You know that I held Epicurus strong And his opinion: now I change my mind, And partly credit things that do presage. Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch’d, Gorging and feeding from our soldiers’ hands; Who to Philippi here consorted us: This morning are they fled away and gone; And in their steads do ravens, crows and kites, Fly o’er our heads and downward look on us, As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem A canopy most fatal, under which Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.
Messala	Believe not so.
Cassius	I but believe it partly; For I am fresh of spirit and resolved To meet all perils very constantly.
Brutus	Even so, Lucilius.
Cassius	Now, most noble Brutus, The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may, Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age! But since the affairs of men rest still incertain, Let’s reason with the worst that may befall. If we do lose this battle, then is this The very last time we shall speak together: What are you then determined to do?
Brutus	Even by the rule of that philosophy By which I did blame Cato for the death Which he did give himself, I know not how, But I do find it cowardly and vile, For fear of what might fall, so to prevent The time of life: arming myself with patience To stay the providence of some high powers That govern us below.
Cassius	Then, if we lose this battle, You are contented to be led in triumph Thorough the streets of Rome?
Brutus	No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble Roman, That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome; He bears too great a mind. But this same day Must end that work the ides of March begun; And whether we shall meet again I know not. Therefore our everlasting farewell take: Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then, this parting was well made.
Cassius	Forever, and forever, farewell, Brutus! If we do meet again, we’ll smile indeed; If not, ’tis true this parting was well made.
Brutus	Why, then, lead on. O, that a man might know The end of this day’s business ere it come! But it sufficeth that the day will end, And then the end is known. Come, ho! away! Exeunt.

Scene II

The same. The field of battle.

	Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.
Brutus	Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills Unto the legions on the other side. Loud alarum. Let them set on at once; for I perceive But cold demeanour in Octavius’ wing, And sudden push gives them the overthrow. Ride, ride, Messala: let them all come down. Exeunt.

Scene III

Another part of the field.

	Alarums. Enter Cassius and Titinius.
Cassius	O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly! Myself have to mine own turn’d enemy: This ensign here of mine was turning back; I slew the coward, and did take it from him.
Titinius	O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early; Who, having some advantage on Octavius, Took it too eagerly: his soldiers fell to spoil, Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed.
	Enter Pindarus.
Pindarus	Fly further off, my lord, fly further off; Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord: Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.
Cassius	This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius; Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?
Titinius	They are, my lord.
Cassius	Titinius, if thou lovest me, Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him, Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops, And here again; that I may rest assured Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.
Titinius	I will be here again, even with a thought. Exit.
Cassius	Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill; My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius, And tell me what thou notest about the field. Pindarus ascends the hill. This day I breathed first: time is come round, And where I did begin, there shall I end; My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news?
Pindarus	Above O my lord!
Cassius	What news?
Pindarus	Above Titinius is enclosed round about With horsemen, that make to him on the spur; Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him. Now, Titinius! Now some light. O, he lights too. He’s ta’en. Shout. And, hark! they shout for joy.
Cassius	Come down, behold no more. O, coward that I am, to live so long, To see my best friend ta’en before my face!
	Pindarus descends.
	Come hither, sirrah: In Parthia did I take thee prisoner; And then I swore thee, saving of thy life, That whatsoever I did bid thee do, Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath; Now be a freeman: and with this good sword, That ran through Caesar’s bowels, search this bosom. Stand not to answer: here, take thou the hilts; And, when my face is cover’d, as ’tis now, Guide thou the sword. Pindarus stabs him. Caesar, thou art revenged, Even with the sword that kill’d thee. Dies.
Pindarus	So, I am free; yet would not so have been, Durst I have done my will. O Cassius, Far from this country Pindarus shall run, Where never Roman shall take note of him. Exit.
	Re-enter Titinius with Messala.
Messala	It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius Is overthrown by noble Brutus’ power, As Cassius’ legions are by Antony.
Titinius	These tidings will well comfort Cassius.
Messala	Where did you leave him?
Titinius	All disconsolate, With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.
Messala	Is not that he that lies upon the ground?
Titinius	He lies not like the living. O my heart!
Messala	Is not that he?
Titinius	No, this was he, Messala, But Cassius is no more. O setting sun, As in thy red rays thou dost sink to-night, So in his red blood Cassius’ day is set; The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone; Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done! Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.
Messala	Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. O hateful error, melancholy’s child, Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O error, soon conceived, Thou never comest unto a happy birth, But kill’st the mother that engender’d thee!
Titinius	What, Pindarus! where art thou, Pindarus?
Messala	Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet The noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his ears; I may say, thrusting it; For piercing steel and darts envenomed Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus As tidings of this sight.
Titinius	Hie you, Messala, And I will seek for Pindarus the while. Exit Messala. Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius? Did I not meet thy friends? and did not they Put on my brows this wreath of victory, And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts? Alas, thou hast misconstrued everything! But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow; Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace, And see how I regarded Caius Cassius. By your leave, gods:⁠—this is a Roman’s part Come, Cassius’ sword, and find Titinius’ heart. Kills himself.
	Alarum. Re-enter Messala, with Brutus, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius.
Brutus	Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
Messala	Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it.
Brutus	Titinius’ face is upward.
Cato	He is slain.
Brutus	O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet! Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords In our own proper entrails. Low alarums.
Cato	Brave Titinius! Look, whether he have not crown’d dead Cassius!
Brutus	Are yet two Romans living such as these? The last of all the Romans, fare thee well! It is impossible that ever Rome Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more tears To this dead man than you shall see me pay. I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time. Come, therefore, and to Thasos send his body: His funerals shall not be in our camp, Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come; And come, young Cato; let us to the field. Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on: ’Tis three o’clock; and, Romans, yet ere night We shall try fortune in a second fight. Exeunt.

Scene IV

Another part of the field.

	Alarum. Enter fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then Brutus, young Cato, Lucilius, and others.
Brutus	Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!
Cato	What bastard doth not? Who will go with me? I will proclaim my name about the field: I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! A foe to tyrants, and my country’s friend; I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
Brutus	And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I; Brutus, my country’s friend; know me for Brutus! Exit.
Lucilius	O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius; And mayst be honour’d, being Cato’s son.
First Soldier	Yield, or thou diest.
Lucilius	Only I yield to die: There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight; Offering money. Kill Brutus, and be honour’d in his death.
First Soldier	We must not. A noble prisoner!
Second Soldier	Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta’en.
First Soldier	I’ll tell the news. Here comes the general.
	Enter Antony.
	Brutus is ta’en, Brutus is ta’en, my lord.
Antony	Where is he?
Lucilius	Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough: I dare assure thee that no enemy Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus: The gods defend him from so great a shame! When you do find him, or alive or dead, He will be found like Brutus, like himself.
Antony	This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you, A prize no less in worth: keep this man safe; Give him all kindness: I had rather have Such men my friends than enemies. Go on, And see whether Brutus be alive or dead; And bring us word unto Octavius’ tent How everything is chanced. Exeunt.

Scene V

Another part of the field.

	Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.
Brutus	Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
Clitus	Statilius show’d the torch-light, but, my lord, He came not back: he is or ta’en or slain.
Brutus	Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word; It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. Whispers.
Clitus	What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
Brutus	Peace then! no words.
Clitus	I’ll rather kill myself.
Brutus	Hark thee, Dardanius. Whispers.
Dardanius	Shall I do such a deed?
Clitus	O Dardanius!
Dardanius	O Clitus!
Clitus	What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
Dardanius	To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
Clitus	Now is that noble vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his eyes.
Brutus	Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word.
Volumnius	What says my lord?
Brutus	Why, this, Volumnius: The ghost of Caesar hath appear’d to me Two several times by night; at Sardis once, And, this last night, here in Philippi fields: I know my hour is come.
Volumnius	Not so, my lord.
Brutus	Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit: Low alarums. It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou know’st that we two went to school together: Even for that our love of old, I prithee, Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
Volumnius	That’s not an office for a friend, my lord. Alarum still.
Clitus	Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
Brutus	Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius. Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen, My heart doth joy that yet in all my life I found no man but he was true to me. I shall have glory by this losing day More than Octavius and Mark Antony By this vile conquest shall attain unto. So fare you well at once; for Brutus’ tongue Hath almost ended his life’s history: Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, That have but labour’d to attain this hour. Alarum. Cry within, “Fly, fly, fly!”
Clitus	Fly, my lord, fly.
Brutus	Hence! I will follow. Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius. I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: Thou art a fellow of a good respect; Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
Strato	Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.
Brutus	Farewell, good Strato. Runs on his sword. Caesar, now be still: I kill’d not thee with half so good a will. Dies.
	Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and the army.
Octavius	What man is that?
Messala	My master’s man. Strato, where is thy master?
Strato	Free from the bondage you are in, Messala: The conquerors can but make a fire of him; For Brutus only overcame himself, And no man else hath honour by his death.
Lucilius	So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast proved Lucilius’ saying true.
Octavius	All that served Brutus, I will entertain them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Strato	Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
Octavius	Do so, good Messala.
Messala	How died my master, Strato?
Strato	I held the sword, and he did run on it.
Messala	Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master.
Antony	This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators save only he Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He only, in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elements So mix’d in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world “This was a man!”
Octavius	According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order’d honourably. So call the field to rest; and let’s away, To part the glories of this happy day. Exeunt.

Julius Caesar
was published in 1599 by
William Shakespeare.