Caesar was chosen consul for the fourth time.
and went into Spain to make war with the sons of Pompey
who were very young.
The greatest battle fought between them in this civil war
was here, at Munda
and they put Caesar himself
in great danger of his life.
He slew 30 thousands of them in the fields
and lost of his own men one thousand of the best he had.
This was the last war
that Caesar made
and on his return to Rome,
the people nammed him
Perpetual Dictator.
Hail, Caesar!
Hail, Caesar!
Hail, Caesar!
Caesar!
Hail, Caesar! Caesar!
Caesar! Caesar!...
Caesar! Caesar!
Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home:
Is this a holiday?
You, Sir...
what trade art thou?
A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience;
which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes.
When they are in great danger, I recover them.
But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
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.
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,
to see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
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.
Ave, Ceasar!
Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.
Calpurnia!
Here, my lord.
stand you directly in Antonius' way, when he doth run his course.
- Antonius!
- Caesar, my lord?
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.
I shall remember:
When Caesar says 'do this, ' it is perform'd.
Set on; and leave no ceremony out.
Caesar!
Ha! who calls?
Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!
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.
Beware the ides of March.
Beware the ides of March.
What man is that?
A soothsayer bids you
beware the ides of March.
Set him before me; let me see his face.
Fellow, come from the throng;
look upon Caesar.
What say'st thou to me now?
Speak once again.
Beware the ides of March.
He is a dreamer;
let us leave him: pass.
Will you go see the order of the course?
- Not I.
- I pray you, do.
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.
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.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, but by reflection.
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.
Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself for that which is not in me?
What means this shouting?
I do fear, the people choose Caesar for their king.
Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.
I would not, Cassius;
yet I love him well.
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:
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.
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.
Another general shout!
I believe that these applauses are for some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar.
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.
Vonjure 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!
When went there by an age,
since the great flood, when could they say till now,
that talk'd of Rome,
that her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
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.
I am glad that my weak words
Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.
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
- Antonius!
- 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.
Casca will tell us what the matter is.
He's not dangerous;
he is a noble Roman and well given.
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.
Such men as he be never at heart's ease whiles they behold a greater than themselves,
and therefore is he 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.
Casca!
- Would you speak with me?
- Ay, Casca.
tell us what hath chanced today, that Caesar looks so sad.
Why, there was a crown offered him.
and being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand,
thus.
What was the second noise for?
Why, for that too.
They shouted thrice.
What was the last cry for?
Why, for that too.
Was the crown offered him thrice?
Ay, marry, was't,
and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other,
and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours shouted.
- Who offered him the crown?
- Why, Antony.
Tell us the manner of it, gentle 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 3rd time.
he put it the 3rd time by. Still as he refused it,
the rabblement hooted and clapped their chapped 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.
But, soft, I pray you:
what, did Caesar swound?
He fell down in the market- place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless.
'Tis very like: he hath the falling sickness.
Caesar hath it not.
But you and I, and honest Casca,
we have the falling sickness..
I know not what you mean by that. but he fell down,
when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown,
he offered them his throat to cut.
And so he fell.
3 or 4 wenches, where I stood, cried
'Alas, good soul!'...
and forgave him with all their hearts.
There's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.
- And after that, he came, thus sad, away?
- Ay.
Did Cicero say any thing?
Ay, he spoke Greek.
- To what effect?
- 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.
Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?
No, I am promised forth.
- Will you dine with me tomorrow?
- Ay, if I be alive
and your mind hold and your dinner worth the eating.
Good: I will expect you.
Do so. Farewell,
both.
Till then,
think of the world.
And after this
let Caesar seat him sure.
For we will shake him,
or worse days endure.
Who's there?
A Roman.
Cassius.
what night is this!
Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
Those that have known the earth so full of faults.
Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man most like this dreadful night,
A man no mightier than thyself or me
in personal action,
yet prodigious grown
and fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
'Tis Caesar that you mean.
Is it not, Cassius?
Let it be who it is.
Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow mean to establish Caesar as a king.
And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, in every place,
save here in Italy.
I know where I will wear this dagger then.
Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius.
If I know this, know all the world besides,
that part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure.
So can I!
So every bondman in his own hand bears the power to cancel his captivity.
And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?
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.
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.
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.
Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait. He is a friend.
Cinna!...
- Where haste you so?
- To find out you.
Who's that? Metellus Cimber?
No, it is Casca;
one incorporate to our attempts.
I am glad on 't.
What a fearful night is this!
There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.
- Am I not stay'd for? tell me.
- Yes, you are.
O Cassius, if you could but win the noble Brutus to our party--
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.
- I will hie. And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
- Do so.
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.
It must be by his death!
And for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him.
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.
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.
Get you to bed again; it is not day.
Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?
I know not, sir.
'Brutus, thou sleep'st.
Awake, and see thyself.
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe?"
What?
Rome?
'Speak,
strike,
redress!'
O Rome, I make thee promise.
Thou shall receive thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!
They are the faction.
O conspiracy!
I think we are too bold upon your rest:.
Good morrow, Brutus.
Do we trouble you?
I have been up this hour, awake all night.
Know I these men that come along with you?
Yes, every man of them.
and no man here but honours you.
And every one doth wish you had but that opinion of yourself
which every noble Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.
He is welcome hither.
This, Decius Brutus.
He is welcome too.
This, Casca.
This, Cinna.
And this, Metellus Cimber.
They are all welcome.
Shall I entreat a word?
Here lies the east.
Doth not the day break here?
No.
O, pardon, sir, it doth.
And yon gray lines that fret the clouds are messengers of day.
You shall confess that you are both deceived.
Here, as I point my sword,
the sun arises.
Give me your hands all over, one by one.
- And let us swear our resolution.
- No, not an oath.
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?
Can no man else be touch'd but only Caesar?
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 contrive.
Let Antony and Caesar fall together.
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 for Mark Antony, think not of him
for he can do no more than Caesar's arm, when Caesar's head is off.
Yet I fear him.
For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar.
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.
But it is doubtful yet, whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no.
For he is superstitious grown of late.
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.
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.
The morning comes upon 's, Brutus.
And, friends,
disperse yourselves.
But all remember what you have said,
and show yourselves true Romans.
Brutus, my lord!
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.
Nor for yours neither.
You've ungently, Brutus, stole from my bed.
Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
I am not well in health, and that is all.
Brutus is wise,
and, were he not in health, he would embrace the means to come by it.
Why, so I do.
Good Portia, go to bed.
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 6 or 7, who did hide their faces even from darkness.
Kneel not, gentle 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 your wife 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.
You are my true and honourable wife,
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops that visit my sad heart.
If this were true, then I should 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.
O ye gods, render me worthy of this noble wife!
By and by thy bosom shall partake the secrets of my heart.
Caesar
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. There's but it's bent against Caesar.
Beware the ides of March.
March... March... March.
March... March... March
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?
- My lord?
Go bid the priests do present sacrifice
- and bring me their opinions of success.
- I will, my lord.
What mean you, Caesar?
Think you to walk forth?
You shall not stir out of your house to-day.
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.
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.
Oh, Caesar!
These things are beyond all use,
and I do fear them.
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.
When beggars die, there are no comets seen.
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
it seems to me most strange that men should fear.
Seeing that death, a necessary end.
Will come when it will come.
What say the augurers?
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.
The gods do this in shame of cowardice.
Caesar should bea 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.
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.
Mark Antony shall say I am not well,
And, for thy humour, I will stay at home.
Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.
Caesar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar.
I come to fetch you to the senate-house.
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.
Say he is sick.
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.
Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so.
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
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.
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.
And this way have you well expounded it.
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 wordyou will not come, their minds may change.
Besides, it were a mock apt to be render'd, for some one to say
'Break up the senate till another time,
when Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.'
If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper:
'Lo, Caesar is afraid'?
How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia!
I am ashamed I did yield to them.
Give me my robe, for I will go.
And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
Good morrow, Caesar.
What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too?
Good morrow, Casca.
Now, Cinna,
now, Metellus,
what, Trebonius!
See! Antony,
that revels long o' nights,
is notwithstanding up.
- Good morrow, Antony.
- Good morrow, noble Caesar.
Good friends,
go in, and taste some wine with me.
And we, like friends, will straightway go together.
'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.
The ides of March are come.
Ay, Caesar,
but not gone.
Hail, Caesar!
Hail, Caesar!
Read this schedule.
Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread, at your best leisure, this his humble suit.
O Caesar, read mine first, for mine's a suit that touches Caesar nearer.
Read it, great Caesar.
What touches us ourself shall be last served.
Delay not, Caesar! read it instantly!
What, is the fellow mad?
What, urge you your petitions in the street? Come to the Capitol.
I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.
What enterprise, Popilius?
Fare you well.
What said Popilius Lena?
He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive.
I fear our purpose is discovered.
Look, how he makes to Caesar Mark him.
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.
Cassius, be constant.
Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes. For, look, he smiles,
and Caesar doth not change.
Trebonius knows his time. For, look you, Brutus.
He draws Mark Antony out of the way.
Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, and presently prefer his suit to Caesar.
He is address'd: press near and second him.
Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.
Are we all ready?
What is now amiss that Caesar and his senate must redress?
Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar!
Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat an humble heart,--
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.
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?
I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar,
desiring thee that Publius Cimber
may have an immediate freedom of repeal.
What, Brutus!
Pardon, Caesar! Caesar, pardon!
As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall
to beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
I could be well moved, if I were as you!
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me.
But I am constant as the northern star,
of whose true-fix'd and resting quality there is no fellow in the firmament.
The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks,
they are all fire and every one doth shine,
but there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men, and men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive.
Yet in the number I do know but one that unassailable holds on his rank,
unshaked of motion: and that I am he,
let me a little show it, even in this; that I was constant Cimber should be banish'd,
and constant do remain to keep him so.
- O Caesar,--
- Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Great Caesar,--
Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
Speak, hands for me!
Et tu, Brute!
Then fall, Caesar.
Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
Some to the common pulpits, and cry out:
'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!'
People and senators, be not affrighted!
Fly not! Stand still!
ambition's debt is paid!
- Go to the pulpit, Brutus!
- And Cassius too!
Stand fast together. Lest some friend of Caesar's should chance--
Talk not of standing!
Publius, good cheer!
There is no harm intended to your person, nor to no Roman else. So tell them, Publius.
And leave us, Publius. lest that the people, rushing on us, should do your age some mischief!
Do so! and let no man abide this deed, but we the doers.
- Where is Antony?
- Fled to his house amazed.
Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run as it were doomsday.
Stoop, Romans, stoop,
and let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood.
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!'
Stoop, then, and wash.
How many ages hence shall this our lofty scene be acted over
in states unborn and accents yet unknown!
How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
that now on Pompey's basis lies along no worthier than the dust!
So oft as that shall be,
so often shall the knot of us be call'd the men that gave their country liberty.
- What, shall we forth?
- Ay, every man away!
Brutus shall lead. And we will grace his heels with the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
Soft! who comes here?
Welcome, Mark 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.
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.
For your part,
to you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony.
Your voice shall be as strong as any man's
in the disposing of new dignities.
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.
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.
Caesar,
If 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?
Mark Antony,--
Pardon me, Caius Cassius.
Will you be prick'd in number of our friends?
Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
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.
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.
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.
You shall, Mark Antony.
Brutus, a word with you.
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?
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.
I know not what may fall.
I like it not.
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.
Be it so. I do desire no more.
Prepare the body then, and follow us.
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,--
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.
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.
- You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?
- I do, Mark Antony.
Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.
He did receive his letters, and is coming.
And bid me say to you by word of mouth--
O Caesar!--
Passion, I see, is catching.
Is thy master coming?
He lies tonight within 7 leagues of Rome.
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 corpse into the market-place.
I try there how the people take the cruel issue of these bloody men.
We will be satisfied! let us be satisfied!
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.
The noble Brutus is ascended.
Silence!
Be patient till the last.
Romans,
countrymen,
and lovers!
Hear me for my cause,
and be silent.
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.
None, Brutus, none.
None.
Then none
have I offended
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.
Live, Brutus!
Live, Brutus!
- Give him a statue with his ancestors.
- Let him be Caesar.
Caesar's better parts shall be crown'd in Brutus.
We'll bring him to his house with shouts and clamours.
- My countrymen,--
- Peace, silence!
- Brutus speaks.
- Peace!
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.
Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.
We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.
For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you.
What does he say of Brutus?
He says, for Brutus' sake,
he finds himself beholding to us all.
'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.
This Caesar was a tyrant.
That's certain. We are blest that Rome is rid of him.
- You gentle Romans,--
- Peace, ho! let us hear him.
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?
Judgment! hou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason.
Bear with me.
My heart is there with Caesar,
and I must pause till it come back to me.
Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
If thou consider rightly of the matter,
Caesar has had great wrong.
Has he, masters? I fear there will a worse come in his place.
Mark'd ye his words?
He would not take the crown.
Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious.
There's not a nobler man in Rome than 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.
The will, the will! we will hear Caesar's will.
Silence!
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!
Read the will!
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!
- They were traitors!
- The will! the testament!
You will compel me, then, to read the will?
The will!
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?
Stand far off.
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.
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.
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.
- O piteous spectacle!
- O noble Caesar!
Stay, countrymen.
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!
Yet hear me, countrymen! Yet hear me speak!
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.
Here is the will,
and under Caesar's seal.
To every Roman citizen he gives, to every several man,
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 for ever, common pleasures,
to walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?
Come, away!
We'll burn his body in the holy place!
Now let it work.
Mischief, thou art afoot,
Take thou what course thou wilt!
- How now, fellow!
- Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
- Where is he now?
- He and Lepidus are at Caesar's house.
He comes upon a wish.
Fortune is merry,
and in this mood will give us any thing.
I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
Belike they had some notice of the people,
How I had moved them.
Let's go to Brutus to Cassius!
Burn all!
Away!
Go.
These many, then, shall die?
Their names are prick'd.
Your brother too must die.
Consent you, Lepidus?
I do consent--
Prick him down, Antony.
Upon condition Publius shall not live,
Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.
He shall not live.
Look,
with a spot I damn him.
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.
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.
Lepidus, go you fetch Caesar's will
hither, we shall determine how to cut off some charge in legacies.
What, shall I find you here?
Or here, or at the Capitol.
This is a slight unmeritable man,
meet to be sent on errands.
Is it fit, the 3-fold world divided,
he should stand 1 of the 3 to share it?
He's a tried and valiant soldier.
So is my horse, Octavius.
Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
Judge me, you gods! Wrong I mine enemies?
And, if not so, how should wrong a brother?
Before the eyes of both our armies here, which should perceive nothing but love from us, let us not wrangle.
Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs. And when you do them--
Cassius, be content. Speak your griefs softly.
I do know you well.
Let no man come to our tent till we've done our conference.
Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.
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.
You wronged yourself to write in such a case.
In such a time as this it is not meet that every nice offence should bear his comment.
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.
I an itching palm!
You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.
The name of Cassius honours this corruption, and chastisement doth therefore hide his head.
Chastisement!
Remember March,
the ides of March remember!
Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?
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.
Brutus, bay not me. I'll not endure it! You forget yourself, to hedge me in.
I am a soldier, I,
older in practise, abler than yourself to make conditions.
- Go to; you are not, Cassius.
- I am.
- I say you are not.
- Urge me no more, I shall forget myself.
Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.
- Away, slight man!
- Is't possible?
Hear me, for I will speak.
Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
O ye gods, ye gods! Must I endure all this?
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.
or, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, when you are waspish.
Is it come to this?
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.
You wrong me every way. You wrong me, Brutus.
I said, an elder soldier, not a better.
Did I say 'better'?
If you did, I care not.
When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.
Peace, peace! You durst not so have tempted him.
- I durst not!
- No!
- What, durst not tempt him!
- For your life you durst not!
Do not presume too much upon my love.
I may do that I shall be sorry for.
You have done that you should be sorry for.
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!
- I denied you not.
- You did.
- 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.
I do not, till you practise them on me.
- You love me not.
- I do not like your faults.
A friendly eye could never see such faults.
A flatterer's would not, though they do appear as huge as high Olympus.
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,
cheque'd like a bondman,
all his faults observed,
set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,t o 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.
Sheathe your dagger.
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope.
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.
Hath Cassius lived to be but
mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
when grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?
When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Do you confess so much?
- Give me your hand.
- And my heart too.
Lucilius and Titinius,
bid the commanders prepare to lodge their companies to-night.
And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you immediately to us.
Lucius, a bowl of wine!
I did not think you could have been so angry.
O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Portia is dead.
Portia!
She is dead.
How 'scaped I killing when I cross'd you so?
O insupportable and touching loss!
Upon what sickness?
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.
And died so?
Even so.
O ye immortal gods!
Speak no more of her.
Give me a bowl of wine.
In this
I bury all unkindness, Cassius.
My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
Come in, Titinius!
Welcome, good Messala.
Now sit we close about this taper here,
and call in question our necessities.
Portia, art thou gone?
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.
Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor.
What do you think of marching to Philippi presently?
- I do not think it good.
- Your reason?
'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.
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.
- Hear me, good brother.
- Under your pardon.
You must note beside, that we've 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.
Then, with your will, go on.
We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.
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?
- No more. Good night.
Early tomorrow will we rise, and hence.
Lucius! My gown.
Farewell, good Messala.
Good night, Titinius.
Noble,
noble Cassius,
good night, and good repose.
O my dear brother!
This was an ill beginning of the night.
Never come such division 'tween our souls!
Let it not, Brutus.
Every thing is well.
Good night, my lord.
Good night, good brother.
Good night, Lord Brutus.
Farewell, every one.
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 any thing?
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.
Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
Why comest thou?
To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Well. then I shall see thee again?
Ay, at Philippi.
Now, Antony,
our hopes are answered:
you said the enemy would not come down,
It proves not so. Their battles are at hand. But keep the hills and upper regions.
They mean to warn us at Philippi here,
Answering before we do demand of them.
I am in their bosoms, and I know wherefore they do it.
They could come down With fearful bravery,
thinking by this face to fastenin our thoughts that they have courage.
But 'tis not so.
Prepare you, generals!
The enemy comes on in gallant show.
Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
and something to be done immediately.
Octavius,
lead your battle softly on,
upon the left hand of the even field.
Upon the right hand I.
Keep thou the left.
Why do you cross me in this exigent?
I do not cross you, but I will do so.
They stand, and would have parley.
Stand fast, Titinius.
We must out and talk.
- Make forth; the generals would have some words.
- Stir not until the signal.
Words before blows!
Is it so, countrymen?
Not that we love words better, as you do.
Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.
In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words.
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.
You flatterers!
Flatterers!
Now, Brutus, thank yourself.
This tongue had not offended so to-day,
if Cassius might have ruled.
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 3 and
or till Octavius Caesar have added slaughter
to the sword of traitors.
Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands.
So I hope.
I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.
O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, young man,
thou couldst not die more honourable.
A peevish schoolboy,
worthless of such honour,
join'd with a masker and a reveller!
Old Cassius still!
Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth!
If you dare fight to-day, come to the field.
If not, when you have stomachs.
Come, Antony, away!
Why, now, blow wind,
swell billow and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Now, most noble Brutus,
the gods to-day stand friendly,
that we may, lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!
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.
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius!
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile.
If not, why then, this parting was well made.
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Brutus!
If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed.
If not, 'tis true
this parting was well made.
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.
Ride, ride, Messala, ride,
and give these bills unto the legions on the other side.
Let them set on at once.
For I perceive but cold demeanor in Octavius' wing,
and sudden push gives them the overthrow.
Ride, Messala, ride!
Let them all come down.
Be thou my witness, Messala,
that against my will,
am I compell'd to set upon one battle all our liberties.
Coming from Sardis,
on our former ensign
and there they perch'd, gorging and feeding from our soldiers' ands.
This morning are they fled away and gone.
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.
Believe not so.
I but believe it partly.
For I am fresh of spirit
and resolved to meet all perils very constantly.
Go back!
O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly!
This ensign here of mine
was turning back I slew the coward!
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.
Fly further off, my lord,
fly further off!
Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord.
This hill is far enough.
Look, look, Titinius.
Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?
Titinius, if thou lovest me, mount thou my horse,
and hide thy spurs in him, that I may rest assured whether yond troops are friend or enemy.
Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill!
My sight was ever thick.
Regard Titinius.
And tell me what thou notest about the field.
This day I breathed first.
This is my birthday.
Time is come round.
And where I did begin,
there shall I end.
My life is run his compass.
Sirrah, what news?
Titinius is enclosed round about with horsemen,
that make to him on the spur.
Yet he spurs on.
Now they are almost on him.
And, hark! they shout for joy.
Come down, behold no more.
O, coward that I am, to live so long,
to see my best friend ta'en before my face!
Sirrah, come hither.
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!
take thou the hilts; and, when my face is cover'd
as 'tis now,
guide thou the sword.
Caesar,
thou art revenged,
even with the sword that kill'd thee.
He is slain.
O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet!
Thy spirit walks abroad and turns our swords
in our own proper entrails.
The sun of Rome is set!
Our day is gone.
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?
The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
Friends,
I owe more tears to this dead man
than you shall see me pay.
I shall find time, Cassius,
I shall find time.
Et tu, Brute?
This is not Brutus, friend.
Keep this man safe.
Come, poor remains of friends,
rest on this rock.
Good Volumnius; list a word.
- What says my lord?
- Why, this, Volumnius:
The ghost of Caesar
hath appear'd to me
At Sardis once,
and, this last night, here
in Philippi fields.
I know my hour is come.
Not so, my lord.
Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.
Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes.
Our enemies have beat us to the pit.
It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, than tarry till they push us.
Good Volumnius,
thou know'st that we 2 went to school together.
Even for that our love of old, I prithee,
hold thou my sword-hilts,
whilst I run on it.
That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
Fly, my lord, fly.
There is no tarrying here.
Farewell to you, and you, Volumnius.
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.
Fly, my lord, fly.
- Hence! - I will follow.
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?
Give me your hand first.
- Fare you well, my lord.
- Farewell, good Strato.
Caesar, now be still.
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.
- What man is that?
- My master's man.
Where is thy master?
Free from the bondage you are in, my lord.
The conquerors can but make a fire of him.
For Brutus only overcame himself.
And no man else hath honour by his death.
How died he, Strato?
I held the sword, and he did run on it.
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!'