It is hard to imagine a world without Shakespeare. Since their composition four hundred years ago, Shakespeare’s plays and poems have traveled the globe, inviting those who see and read his works to make them their own.
Readers of the New Folger Editions are part of this ongoing process of “taking up Shakespeare,” finding our own thoughts and feelings in language that strikes us as old or unusual and, for that very reason, new. We still struggle to keep up with a writer who could think a mile a minute, whose words paint pictures that shift like clouds. These expertly edited texts are presented to the public as a resource for study, artistic adaptation, and enjoyment. By making the classic texts of the New Folger Editions available in electronic form as The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), we place a trusted resource in the hands of anyone who wants them.
The New Folger Editions of Shakespeare’s plays, which are the basis for the texts realized here in digital form, are special because of their origin. The Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, DC, is the single greatest documentary source of Shakespeare’s works. An unparalleled collection of early modern books, manuscripts, and artwork connected to Shakespeare, the Folger’s holdings have been consulted extensively in the preparation of these texts. The Editions also reflect the expertise gained through the regular performance of Shakespeare’s works in the Folger’s Elizabethan Theatre.
I want to express my deep thanks to editors Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine for creating these indispensable editions of Shakespeare’s works, which incorporate the best of textual scholarship with a richness of commentary that is both inspired and engaging. Readers who want to know more about Shakespeare and his plays can follow the paths these distinguished scholars have tread by visiting the Folger either in-person or online, where a range of physical and digital resources exists to supplement the material in these texts. I commend to you these words, and hope that they inspire.
Michael Witmore
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
Until now, with the release of The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), readers in search of a free online text of Shakespeare’s plays had to be content primarily with using the Moby™ Text, which reproduces a late-nineteenth century version of the plays. What is the difference? Many ordinary readers assume that there is a single text for the plays: what Shakespeare wrote. But Shakespeare’s plays were not published the way modern novels or plays are published today: as a single, authoritative text. In some cases, the plays have come down to us in multiple published versions, represented by various Quartos (Qq) and by the great collection put together by his colleagues in 1623, called the First Folio (F). There are, for example, three very different versions of
Hamlet
, two of
King Lear
,
Henry V
,
Romeo and Juliet
, and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more accurate text.
Other editorial decisions involve choices about whether an unfamiliar word could be understood in light of other writings of the period or whether it should be changed; decisions about words that made it into Shakespeare’s text by accident through four hundred years of printings and misprinting; and even decisions based on cultural preference and taste. When the Moby™ Text was created, for example, it was deemed “improper” and “indecent” for Miranda to chastise Caliban for having attempted to rape her. (See
The Tempest
, 1.2: “Abhorred slave,/Which any print of goodness wilt not take,/Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee…”). All Shakespeare editors at the time took the speech away from her and gave it to her father, Prospero.
The editors of the Moby™ Shakespeare produced their text long before scholars fully understood the proper grounds on which to make the thousands of decisions that Shakespeare editors face. The Folger Library Shakespeare Editions, on which the Folger Shakespeare texts depend, make this editorial process as nearly transparent as is possible, in contrast to older texts, like the Moby™, which hide editorial interventions. The reader of the Folger Shakespeare knows where the text has been altered because editorial interventions are signaled by square brackets (for example, from
Othello
: “
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If she in chains of magic were not bound,
square bracket
”), half-square brackets (for example, from
Henry V
: “With
half-square bracket
blood
half-square bracket
and sword and fire to win your right,”), or angle brackets (for example, from
Hamlet
: “O farewell, honest
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soldier.
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Who hath relieved/you?”). At any point in the text, you can hover your cursor over a bracket for more information.
Because the Folger Shakespeare texts are edited in accord with twenty-first century knowledge about Shakespeare’s texts, the Folger here provides them to readers, scholars, teachers, actors, directors, and students, free of charge, confident of their quality as texts of the plays and pleased to be able to make this contribution to the study and enjoyment of Shakespeare.
Caesar’s assassination is just the halfway point of
Julius Caesar
. The first part of the play leads to his death; the second portrays the consequences. As the action begins, Rome prepares for Caesar’s triumphal entrance. Brutus, Caesar’s friend and ally, fears that Caesar will become king, destroying the republic. Cassius and others convince Brutus to join a conspiracy to kill Caesar.
On the day of the assassination, Caesar plans to stay home at the urging of his wife, Calphurnia. A conspirator, Decius Brutus, persuades him to go to the Senate with the other conspirators and his friend, Mark Antony. At the Senate, the conspirators stab Caesar to death. Antony uses a funeral oration to turn the citizens of Rome against them. Brutus and Cassius escape as Antony joins forces with Octavius Caesar.
Encamped with their armies, Brutus and Cassius quarrel, then agree to march on Antony and Octavius. In the battle which follows, Cassius, misled by erroneous reports of loss, persuades a slave to kill him; Brutus’s army is defeated. Brutus commits suicide, praised by Antony as “the noblest Roman of them all.”
ACT
1
Scene
1
Enter
Flavius
,
Marullus
,
and
certain
Commoners
,
including
a
Carpenter
and
a
Cobbler
,
over
the
stage
.
Hence
!
Home
,
you
idle
creatures
,
get
you
home
!
Is
this
a
holiday
?
What
,
know
you
not
,
Being
mechanical
,
you
ought
not
walk
Upon
a
laboring
day
without
the
sign
Of
your
profession
?
—
Speak
,
what
trade
art
thou
?
Why
,
sir
,
a
carpenter
.
Where
is
thy
leather
apron
and
thy
rule
?
What
dost
thou
with
thy
best
apparel
on
?
—
You
,
sir
,
what
trade
are
you
?
Truly
,
sir
,
in
respect
of
a
fine
workman
,
I
am
but
,
as
you
would
say
,
a
cobbler
.
But
what
trade
art
thou
?
Answer
me
directly
.
A
trade
,
sir
,
that
I
hope
I
may
use
with
a
safe
conscience
,
which
is
indeed
,
sir
,
a
mender
of
bad
soles
.
What
trade
,
thou
knave
?
Thou
naughty
knave
,
what
trade
?
ACT 1. SC. 1
Nay
,
I
beseech
you
,
sir
,
be
not
out
with
me
.
Yet
if
you
be
out
,
sir
,
I
can
mend
you
.
What
mean’st
thou
by
that
?
Mend
me
,
thou
saucy
fellow
?
Why
,
sir
,
cobble
you
.
Thou
art
a
cobbler
,
art
thou
?
Truly
,
sir
,
all
that
I
live
by
is
with
the
awl
.
I
meddle
with
no
tradesman’s
matters
nor
women’s
matters
,
but
withal
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
.
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
climbed
up
to
walls
and
battlements
,
To
towers
and
windows
,
yea
,
to
chimney
tops
,
Your
infants
in
your
arms
,
and
there
have
sat
The
livelong
day
,
with
patient
expectation
,
To
see
great
Pompey
pass
the
streets
of
Rome
.
And
when
you
saw
his
chariot
but
appear
,
Have
you
not
made
an
universal
shout
,
That
Tiber
trembled
underneath
her
banks
ACT 1. SC. 1
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
.
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
.
All
the
Commoners
exit
.
See
whe’er
their
basest
mettle
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
decked
with
ceremonies
.
May
we
do
so
?
You
know
it
is
the
feast
of
Lupercal
.
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
plucked
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
.
They
exit
in
different
directions
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Scene
2
Enter
Caesar
,
Antony
for
the
course
,
Calphurnia
,
Portia
,
Decius
,
Cicero
,
Brutus
,
Cassius
,
Casca
,
a
Soothsayer
;
after
them
Marullus
and
Flavius
and
Commoners
.
Calphurnia
.
Peace
,
ho
!
Caesar
speaks
.
Calphurnia
.
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
Calphurnia
,
for
our
elders
say
The
barren
,
touchèd
in
this
holy
chase
,
Shake
off
their
sterile
curse
.
I
shall
remember
.
When
Caesar
says
Do
this
,
it
is
performed
.
Set
on
and
leave
no
ceremony
out
.
Sennet
.
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
turned
to
hear
.
Beware
the
ides
of
March
.
What
man
is
that
?
A
soothsayer
bids
you
beware
the
ides
of
March
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Set
him
before
me
.
Let
me
see
his
face
.
Fellow
,
come
from
the
throng
.
The
Soothsayer
comes
forward
.
Look
upon
Caesar
.
What
sayst
thou
to
me
now
?
Speak
once
again
.
Beware
the
ides
of
March
.
He
is
a
dreamer
.
Let
us
leave
him
.
Pass
.
Sennet
.
All
but
Brutus
and
Cassius
exit
.
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
.
Cassius
,
Be
not
deceived
.
If
I
have
veiled
my
look
,
I
turn
the
trouble
of
my
countenance
Merely
upon
myself
.
Vexèd
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
)
ACT 1. SC. 2
Nor
construe
any
further
my
neglect
Than
that
poor
Brutus
,
with
himself
at
war
,
Forgets
the
shows
of
love
to
other
men
.
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
?
No
,
Cassius
,
for
the
eye
sees
not
itself
But
by
reflection
,
by
some
other
things
.
’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
wished
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
?
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
laughter
,
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
ACT 1. SC. 2
That
I
profess
myself
in
banqueting
To
all
the
rout
,
then
hold
me
dangerous
.
Flourish
and
shout
.
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
.
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
honor
in
one
eye
and
death
i’
th’
other
And
I
will
look
on
both
indifferently
;
For
let
the
gods
so
speed
me
as
I
love
The
name
of
honor
more
than
I
fear
death
.
I
know
that
virtue
to
be
in
you
,
Brutus
,
As
well
as
I
do
know
your
outward
favor
.
Well
,
honor
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
Dar’st
thou
,
Cassius
,
now
Leap
in
with
me
into
this
angry
flood
And
swim
to
yonder
point
?
Upon
the
word
,
Accoutered
as
I
was
,
I
plungèd
in
And
bade
him
follow
;
so
indeed
he
did
.
The
torrent
roared
,
and
we
did
buffet
it
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
color
fly
,
And
that
same
eye
whose
bend
doth
awe
the
world
Did
lose
his
luster
.
I
did
hear
him
groan
.
Ay
,
and
that
tongue
of
his
that
bade
the
Romans
Mark
him
and
write
his
speeches
in
their
books
,
Alas
,
it
cried
Give
me
some
drink
,
Titinius
As
a
sick
girl
.
You
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
.
Another
general
shout
!
I
do
believe
that
these
applauses
are
For
some
new
honors
that
are
heaped
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
dishonorable
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
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
talked
of
Rome
,
That
her
wide
walks
encompassed
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
brooked
Th’
eternal
devil
to
keep
his
state
in
Rome
As
easily
as
a
king
.
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
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
.
Enter
Caesar
and
his
train
.
The
games
are
done
,
and
Caesar
is
returning
.
As
they
pass
by
,
pluck
Casca
by
the
sleeve
,
And
he
will
,
after
his
sour
fashion
,
tell
you
What
hath
proceeded
worthy
note
today
.
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
.
Calphurnia’s
cheek
is
pale
,
and
Cicero
Looks
with
such
ferret
and
such
fiery
eyes
As
we
have
seen
him
in
the
Capitol
,
Being
crossed
in
conference
by
some
senators
.
Casca
will
tell
us
what
the
matter
is
.
Antonius
.
Caesar
.
Let
me
have
men
about
me
that
are
fat
,
Sleek-headed
men
,
and
such
as
sleep
a-nights
.
Yond
Cassius
has
a
lean
and
hungry
look
.
He
thinks
too
much
.
Such
men
are
dangerous
.
Fear
him
not
,
Caesar
;
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
,
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
mocked
himself
and
scorned
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
feared
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
.
Caesar
and
his
train
exit
but
Casca
remains
behind
.
You
pulled
me
by
the
cloak
.
Would
you
speak
with
me
?
Ay
,
Casca
.
Tell
us
what
hath
chanced
today
That
Caesar
looks
so
sad
.
Why
,
you
were
with
him
,
were
you
not
?
I
should
not
then
ask
Casca
what
had
chanced
.
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
.
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
neighbors
shouted
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
third
time
.
He
put
it
the
third
time
by
,
and
still
as
he
refused
it
the
rabblement
hooted
and
clapped
their
chopped
hands
and
threw
up
their
sweaty
nightcaps
and
uttered
such
a
deal
of
stinking
breath
because
Caesar
refused
the
crown
that
it
had
almost
choked
Caesar
,
for
he
swooned
and
fell
down
at
it
.
And
for
mine
own
part
,
I
durst
not
laugh
for
fear
of
opening
my
lips
and
receiving
the
bad
air
.
But
soft
,
I
pray
you
.
What
,
did
Caesar
swoon
?
He
fell
down
in
the
marketplace
and
foamed
at
mouth
and
was
speechless
.
’Tis
very
like
;
he
hath
the
falling
sickness
.
No
,
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
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
theater
,
I
am
no
true
man
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
What
said
he
when
he
came
unto
himself
?
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
.
And
,
after
that
,
he
came
thus
sad
away
?
Ay
.
Did
Cicero
say
anything
?
Ay
,
he
spoke
Greek
.
To
what
effect
?
Nay
,
an
I
tell
you
that
,
I’ll
ne’er
look
you
i’
th’
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
scarves
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
.
He
exits
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
What
a
blunt
fellow
is
this
grown
to
be
!
He
was
quick
mettle
when
he
went
to
school
.
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
.
And
so
it
is
.
For
this
time
I
will
leave
you
.
Tomorrow
,
if
you
please
to
speak
with
me
,
I
will
come
home
to
you
;
or
,
if
you
will
,
Come
home
to
me
,
and
I
will
wait
for
you
.
I
will
do
so
.
Till
then
,
think
of
the
world
.
Brutus
exits
.
Well
,
Brutus
,
thou
art
noble
.
Yet
I
see
Thy
honorable
mettle
may
be
wrought
From
that
it
is
disposed
.
Therefore
it
is
meet
That
noble
minds
keep
ever
with
their
likes
;
For
who
so
firm
that
cannot
be
seduced
?
Caesar
doth
bear
me
hard
,
but
he
loves
Brutus
.
If
I
were
Brutus
now
,
and
he
were
Cassius
,
He
should
not
humor
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
glancèd
at
And
after
this
,
let
Caesar
seat
him
sure
,
For
we
will
shake
him
,
or
worse
days
endure
.
He
exits
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
Scene
3
Thunder
and
lightning
.
Enter
Casca
and
Cicero
.
Good
even
,
Casca
.
Brought
you
Caesar
home
?
Why
are
you
breathless
?
And
why
stare
you
so
?
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
Th’
ambitious
ocean
swell
and
rage
and
foam
To
be
exalted
with
the
threat’ning
clouds
;
But
never
till
tonight
,
never
till
now
,
Did
I
go
through
a
tempest
dropping
fire
.
Either
there
is
a
civil
strife
in
heaven
,
Or
else
the
world
,
too
saucy
with
the
gods
,
Incenses
them
to
send
destruction
.
Why
,
saw
you
anything
more
wonderful
?
A
common
slave
(
you
know
him
well
by
sight
)
Held
up
his
left
hand
,
which
did
flame
and
burn
Like
twenty
torches
joined
;
and
yet
his
hand
,
Not
sensible
of
fire
,
remained
unscorched
.
Besides
(
I
ha’
not
since
put
up
my
sword
)
,
Against
the
Capitol
I
met
a
lion
,
Who
glazed
upon
me
and
went
surly
by
Without
annoying
me
.
And
there
were
drawn
Upon
a
heap
a
hundred
ghastly
women
,
Transformèd
with
their
fear
,
who
swore
they
saw
Men
all
in
fire
walk
up
and
down
the
streets
.
And
yesterday
the
bird
of
night
did
sit
Even
at
noonday
upon
the
marketplace
,
Hooting
and
shrieking
.
When
these
prodigies
Do
so
conjointly
meet
,
let
not
men
say
ACT 1. SC. 3
These
are
their
reasons
,
they
are
natural
,
For
I
believe
they
are
portentous
things
Unto
the
climate
that
they
point
upon
.
Indeed
,
it
is
a
strange-disposèd
time
.
But
men
may
construe
things
after
their
fashion
,
Clean
from
the
purpose
of
the
things
themselves
.
Comes
Caesar
to
the
Capitol
tomorrow
?
He
doth
,
for
he
did
bid
Antonius
Send
word
to
you
he
would
be
there
tomorrow
.
Good
night
then
,
Casca
.
This
disturbèd
sky
Is
not
to
walk
in
.
Farewell
,
Cicero
Cicero
exits
.
Enter
Cassius
.
Who’s
there
?
A
Roman
.
Casca
,
by
your
voice
.
Your
ear
is
good
.
Cassius
,
what
night
is
this
!
A
very
pleasing
night
to
honest
men
.
Who
ever
knew
the
heavens
menace
so
?
Those
that
have
known
the
Earth
earth
so
full
of
faults
.
For
my
part
,
I
have
walked
about
the
streets
,
Submitting
me
unto
the
perilous
night
,
And
thus
unbracèd
,
Casca
,
as
you
see
,
Have
bared
my
bosom
to
the
thunder-stone
;
And
when
the
cross
blue
lightning
seemed
to
open
The
breast
of
heaven
,
I
did
present
myself
Even
in
the
aim
and
very
flash
of
it
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
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
.
You
are
dull
,
Casca
,
and
those
sparks
of
life
That
should
be
in
a
Roman
you
do
want
,
Or
else
you
use
not
.
You
look
pale
,
and
gaze
,
And
put
on
fear
,
and
cast
yourself
in
wonder
,
To
see
the
strange
impatience
of
the
heavens
.
But
if
you
would
consider
the
true
cause
Why
all
these
fires
,
why
all
these
gliding
ghosts
,
Why
birds
and
beasts
from
quality
and
kind
,
Why
old
men
,
fools
,
and
children
calculate
,
Why
all
these
things
change
from
their
ordinance
,
Their
natures
,
and
preformèd
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
.
’Tis
Caesar
that
you
mean
,
is
it
not
,
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
governed
with
our
mothers’
spirits
.
Our
yoke
and
sufferance
show
us
womanish
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
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
.
Therein
,
you
gods
,
you
make
the
weak
most
strong
;
Therein
,
you
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
.
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
?
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
armed
,
And
dangers
are
to
me
indifferent
.
ACT 1. SC. 3
You
speak
to
Casca
,
and
to
such
a
man
That
is
no
fleering
telltale
.
Hold
.
My
hand
.
They
shake
hands
.
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
honorable-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
favor
’s
like
the
work
we
have
in
hand
,
Most
bloody
,
fiery
,
and
most
terrible
.
Enter
Cinna
.
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
.
Am
I
not
stayed
for
,
Cinna
?
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
stayed
for
?
Tell
me
.
Yes
,
you
are
.
O
Cassius
,
if
you
could
But
win
the
noble
Brutus
to
our
party
—
ACT 1. SC. 3
,
handing
him
papers
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
?
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
.
That
done
,
repair
to
Pompey’s
Theater
.
Cinna
exits
.
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
.
O
,
he
sits
high
in
all
the
people’s
hearts
,
And
that
which
would
appear
offense
in
us
His
countenance
,
like
richest
alchemy
,
Will
change
to
virtue
and
to
worthiness
.
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
.
They
exit
.
ACT
2
Scene
1
Enter
Brutus
in
his
orchard
.
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
.
Called
you
,
my
lord
?
Get
me
a
taper
in
my
study
,
Lucius
.
When
it
is
lighted
,
come
and
call
me
here
.
I
will
,
my
lord
.
He
exits
.
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
crowned
:
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
.
Th’
abuse
of
greatness
is
when
it
disjoins
ACT 2. SC. 1
Remorse
from
power
.
And
,
to
speak
truth
of
Caesar
,
I
have
not
known
when
his
affections
swayed
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
color
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
,
hatched
,
would
,
as
his
kind
,
grow
mischievous
,
And
kill
him
in
the
shell
.
Enter
Lucius
.
The
taper
burneth
in
your
closet
,
sir
.
Searching
the
window
for
a
flint
,
I
found
This
paper
,
thus
sealed
up
,
and
I
am
sure
It
did
not
lie
there
when
I
went
to
bed
.
Gives
him
the
letter
.
Get
you
to
bed
again
.
It
is
not
day
.
Is
not
tomorrow
,
boy
,
the
ides
of
March
?
I
know
not
,
sir
.
Look
in
the
calendar
,
and
bring
me
word
.
I
will
,
sir
.
He
exits
.
The
exhalations
,
whizzing
in
the
air
,
Give
so
much
light
that
I
may
read
by
them
.
Opens
the
letter
and
reads
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
Brutus
,
thou
sleep’st
.
Awake
,
and
see
thyself
!
Shall
Rome
,
etc.
Speak
,
strike
,
redress
!
Brutus
,
thou
sleep’st
.
Awake
.
Such
instigations
have
been
often
dropped
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
called
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
.
Enter
Lucius
.
Sir
,
March
is
wasted
fifteen
days
.
Knock
within
.
’Tis
good
.
Go
to
the
gate
;
somebody
knocks
.
Lucius
exits
.
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
.
Enter
Lucius
.
Sir
,
’tis
your
brother
Cassius
at
the
door
,
Who
doth
desire
to
see
you
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
Is
he
alone
?
No
,
sir
.
There
are
more
with
him
.
Do
you
know
them
?
No
,
sir
.
Their
hats
are
plucked
about
their
ears
,
And
half
their
faces
buried
in
their
cloaks
,
That
by
no
means
I
may
discover
them
By
any
mark
of
favor
.
Let
’em
enter
.
Lucius
exits
.
They
are
the
faction
.
O
conspiracy
,
Sham’st
thou
to
show
thy
dang’rous
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
,
and
Trebonius
.
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
honors
you
,
and
every
one
doth
wish
You
had
but
that
opinion
of
yourself
Which
every
noble
Roman
bears
of
you
.
This
is
Trebonius
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
He
is
welcome
hither
.
This
,
Decius
Brutus
.
He
is
welcome
too
.
This
,
Casca
;
this
,
Cinna
;
and
this
,
Metellus
Cimber
.
They
are
all
welcome
.
What
watchful
cares
do
interpose
themselves
Betwixt
your
eyes
and
night
?
Shall
I
entreat
a
word
?
Brutus
and
Cassius
whisper
.
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
,
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
.
,
coming
forward
with
Cassius
Give
me
your
hands
all
over
,
one
by
one
.
And
let
us
swear
our
resolution
.
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
ACT 2. SC. 1
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
valor
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
th’
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
passed
from
him
.
But
what
of
Cicero
?
Shall
we
sound
him
?
I
think
he
will
stand
very
strong
with
us
.
Let
us
not
leave
him
out
.
No
,
by
no
means
.
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
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
O
,
name
him
not
!
Let
us
not
break
with
him
,
For
he
will
never
follow
anything
That
other
men
begin
.
Then
leave
him
out
.
Indeed
,
he
is
not
fit
.
Shall
no
man
else
be
touched
,
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
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
.
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’s
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
called
purgers
,
not
murderers
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
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
engrafted
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
.
There
is
no
fear
in
him
.
Let
him
not
die
,
For
he
will
live
and
laugh
at
this
hereafter
.
Clock
strikes
.
Peace
,
count
the
clock
.
The
clock
hath
stricken
three
.
’Tis
time
to
part
.
But
it
is
doubtful
yet
Whether
Caesar
will
come
forth
today
or
no
,
For
he
is
superstitious
grown
of
late
,
Quite
from
the
main
opinion
he
held
once
Of
fantasy
,
of
dreams
,
and
ceremonies
.
It
may
be
these
apparent
prodigies
,
The
unaccustomed
terror
of
this
night
,
And
the
persuasion
of
his
augurers
May
hold
him
from
the
Capitol
today
.
Never
fear
that
.
If
he
be
so
resolved
,
I
can
o’ersway
him
,
for
he
loves
to
hear
That
unicorns
may
be
betrayed
with
trees
,
And
bears
with
glasses
,
elephants
with
holes
,
Lions
with
toils
,
and
men
with
flatterers
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
But
when
I
tell
him
he
hates
flatterers
,
He
says
he
does
,
being
then
most
flatterèd
.
Let
me
work
,
For
I
can
give
his
humor
the
true
bent
,
And
I
will
bring
him
to
the
Capitol
.
Nay
,
we
will
all
of
us
be
there
to
fetch
him
.
By
the
eighth
hour
,
is
that
the
uttermost
?
Be
that
the
uttermost
,
and
fail
not
then
.
Caius
Ligarius
doth
bear
Caesar
hard
,
Who
rated
him
for
speaking
well
of
Pompey
.
I
wonder
none
of
you
have
thought
of
him
.
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
.
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
.
Good
gentlemen
,
look
fresh
and
merrily
.
Let
not
our
looks
put
on
our
purposes
,
But
bear
it
,
as
our
Roman
actors
do
,
With
untired
spirits
and
formal
constancy
.
And
so
good
morrow
to
you
every
one
.
All
but
Brutus
exit
.
Boy
!
Lucius
!
—
Fast
asleep
?
It
is
no
matter
.
Enjoy
the
honey-heavy
dew
of
slumber
.
Thou
hast
no
figures
nor
no
fantasies
ACT 2. SC. 1
Which
busy
care
draws
in
the
brains
of
men
.
Therefore
thou
sleep’st
so
sound
.
Enter
Portia
.
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
.
And
yesternight
at
supper
You
suddenly
arose
and
walked
about
,
Musing
and
sighing
,
with
your
arms
across
,
And
when
I
asked
you
what
the
matter
was
,
You
stared
upon
me
with
ungentle
looks
.
I
urged
you
further
;
then
you
scratched
your
head
And
too
impatiently
stamped
with
your
foot
.
Yet
I
insisted
;
yet
you
answered
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
seemed
too
much
enkindled
,
and
withal
Hoping
it
was
but
an
effect
of
humor
,
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
prevailed
on
your
condition
,
I
should
not
know
you
Brutus
.
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
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
Why
so
I
do
.
Good
Portia
,
go
to
bed
.
Is
Brutus
sick
?
And
is
it
physical
To
walk
unbracèd
and
suck
up
the
humors
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
unpurgèd
air
To
add
unto
his
sickness
?
No
,
my
Brutus
,
You
have
some
sick
offense
within
your
mind
,
Which
by
the
right
and
virtue
of
my
place
I
ought
to
know
of
.
She
kneels
.
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
,
your
self
,
your
half
,
Why
you
are
heavy
,
and
what
men
tonight
Have
had
resort
to
you
;
for
here
have
been
Some
six
or
seven
who
did
hide
their
faces
Even
from
darkness
.
Kneel
not
,
gentle
Portia
.
He
lifts
her
up
.
I
should
not
need
,
if
you
were
gentle
Brutus
.
Within
the
bond
of
marriage
,
tell
me
,
Brutus
,
Is
it
excepted
I
should
know
no
secrets
That
appertain
to
you
?
Am
I
your
self
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
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
You
are
my
true
and
honorable
wife
,
As
dear
to
me
as
are
the
ruddy
drops
That
visit
my
sad
heart
.
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
fathered
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
?
O
you
gods
,
Render
me
worthy
of
this
noble
wife
!
Knock
.
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
.
Portia
exits
.
Lucius
,
who
’s
that
knocks
?
Enter
Lucius
and
Ligarius
.
Here
is
a
sick
man
that
would
speak
with
you
.
Caius
Ligarius
,
that
Metellus
spoke
of
.
—
Boy
,
stand
aside
.
Lucius
exits
.
Caius
Ligarius
,
how
?
Vouchsafe
good
morrow
from
a
feeble
tongue
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
O
,
what
a
time
have
you
chose
out
,
brave
Caius
,
To
wear
a
kerchief
!
Would
you
were
not
sick
!
I
am
not
sick
,
if
Brutus
have
in
hand
Any
exploit
worthy
the
name
of
honor
.
Such
an
exploit
have
I
in
hand
,
Ligarius
,
Had
you
a
healthful
ear
to
hear
of
it
.
By
all
the
gods
that
Romans
bow
before
,
I
here
discard
my
sickness
.
He
takes
off
his
kerchief
.
Soul
of
Rome
,
Brave
son
derived
from
honorable
loins
,
Thou
like
an
exorcist
hast
conjured
up
My
mortifièd
spirit
.
Now
bid
me
run
,
And
I
will
strive
with
things
impossible
,
Yea
,
get
the
better
of
them
.
What’s
to
do
?
A
piece
of
work
that
will
make
sick
men
whole
.
But
are
not
some
whole
that
we
must
make
sick
?
That
must
we
also
.
What
it
is
,
my
Caius
,
I
shall
unfold
to
thee
as
we
are
going
To
whom
it
must
be
done
.
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
.
Thunder
.
Follow
me
then
.
They
exit
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Scene
2
Thunder
and
lightning
.
Enter
Julius
Caesar
in
his
nightgown
.
Nor
heaven
nor
Earth
earth
have
been
at
peace
tonight
.
Thrice
hath
Calphurnia
in
her
sleep
cried
out
Help
ho
,
they
murder
Caesar
!
—
Who’s
within
?
Enter
a
Servant
.
My
lord
.
Go
bid
the
priests
do
present
sacrifice
,
And
bring
me
their
opinions
of
success
.
I
will
,
my
lord
.
He
exits
.
Enter
Calphurnia
.
What
mean
you
,
Caesar
?
Think
you
to
walk
forth
?
You
shall
not
stir
out
of
your
house
today
.
Caesar
shall
forth
.
The
things
that
threatened
me
Ne’er
looked
but
on
my
back
.
When
they
shall
see
The
face
of
Caesar
,
they
are
vanishèd
.
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
whelpèd
in
the
streets
,
And
graves
have
yawned
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
,
ACT 2. SC. 2
And
ghosts
did
shriek
and
squeal
about
the
streets
.
O
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
.
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
.
Enter
a
Servant
.
What
say
the
augurers
?
They
would
not
have
you
to
stir
forth
today
.
Plucking
the
entrails
of
an
offering
forth
,
They
could
not
find
a
heart
within
the
beast
.
The
gods
do
this
in
shame
of
cowardice
.
Caesar
should
be
a
beast
without
a
heart
If
he
should
stay
at
home
today
for
fear
.
No
,
Caesar
shall
not
.
Danger
knows
full
well
That
Caesar
is
more
dangerous
than
he
.
We
are
two
lions
littered
in
one
day
,
And
I
the
elder
and
more
terrible
.
And
Caesar
shall
go
forth
.
Alas
,
my
lord
,
Your
wisdom
is
consumed
in
confidence
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Do
not
go
forth
today
.
Call
it
my
fear
That
keeps
you
in
the
house
,
and
not
your
own
.
We’ll
send
Mark
Antony
to
the
Senate
House
,
And
he
shall
say
you
are
not
well
today
.
Let
me
,
upon
my
knee
,
prevail
in
this
.
She
kneels
.
Mark
Antony
shall
say
I
am
not
well
,
And
for
thy
humor
I
will
stay
at
home
.
He
lifts
her
up
.
Enter
Decius
.
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
today
.
Cannot
is
false
,
and
that
I
dare
not
,
falser
.
I
will
not
come
today
.
Tell
them
so
,
Decius
.
Say
he
is
sick
.
Shall
Caesar
send
a
lie
?
Have
I
in
conquest
stretched
mine
arm
so
far
,
To
be
afeard
to
tell
graybeards
the
truth
?
Decius
,
go
tell
them
Caesar
will
not
come
.
Most
mighty
Caesar
,
let
me
know
some
cause
,
Lest
I
be
laughed
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
.
Calphurnia
here
,
my
wife
,
stays
me
at
home
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
She
dreamt
tonight
she
saw
my
statue
,
Which
,
like
a
fountain
with
an
hundred
spouts
,
Did
run
pure
blood
;
and
many
lusty
Romans
Came
smiling
and
did
bathe
their
hands
in
it
.
And
these
does
she
apply
for
warnings
and
portents
And
evils
imminent
,
and
on
her
knee
Hath
begged
that
I
will
stay
at
home
today
.
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
Calphurnia’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
word
you
will
not
come
,
Their
minds
may
change
.
Besides
,
it
were
a
mock
Apt
to
be
rendered
,
for
someone
to
say
Break
up
the
Senate
till
another
time
,
When
Caesar’s
wife
shall
meet
with
better
dreams
.
If
Caesar
hide
himself
,
shall
they
not
whisper
Lo
,
Caesar
is
afraid
?
Pardon
me
,
Caesar
,
for
my
dear
dear
love
To
your
proceeding
bids
me
tell
you
this
,
And
reason
to
my
love
is
liable
.
How
foolish
do
your
fears
seem
now
,
Calphurnia
!
I
am
ashamèd
I
did
yield
to
them
.
Give
me
my
robe
,
for
I
will
go
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Enter
Brutus
,
Ligarius
,
Metellus
,
Casca
,
Trebonius
,
Cinna
,
and
Publius
.
And
look
where
Publius
is
come
to
fetch
me
.
Good
morrow
,
Caesar
.
Welcome
,
Publius
.
—
What
,
Brutus
,
are
you
stirred
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
?
Caesar
,
’tis
strucken
eight
.
I
thank
you
for
your
pains
and
courtesy
.
Enter
Antony
.
See
,
Antony
that
revels
long
a-nights
Is
notwithstanding
up
.
—
Good
morrow
,
Antony
.
So
to
most
noble
Caesar
.
,
to
Servant
Bid
them
prepare
within
.
—
I
am
to
blame
to
be
thus
waited
for
.
Servant
exits
.
Now
,
Cinna
.
—
Now
,
Metellus
.
—
What
,
Trebonius
,
I
have
an
hour’s
talk
in
store
for
you
.
Remember
that
you
call
on
me
today
;
Be
near
me
that
I
may
remember
you
.
Caesar
,
I
will
.
Aside
.
And
so
near
will
I
be
That
your
best
friends
shall
wish
I
had
been
further
.
Good
friends
,
go
in
and
taste
some
wine
with
me
,
And
we
,
like
friends
,
will
straightway
go
together
.
,
aside
That
every
like
is
not
the
same
,
O
Caesar
,
The
heart
of
Brutus
earns
to
think
upon
.
They
exit
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
Scene
3
Enter
Artemidorus
reading
a
paper
.
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
mayest
live
;
If
not
,
the
Fates
with
traitors
do
contrive
.
He
exits
.
Scene
4
Enter
Portia
and
Lucius
.
I
prithee
,
boy
,
run
to
the
Senate
House
.
Stay
not
to
answer
me
,
but
get
thee
gone
.
Why
dost
thou
stay
?
To
know
my
errand
,
madam
.
I
would
have
had
thee
there
and
here
again
Ere
I
can
tell
thee
what
thou
shouldst
do
there
.
Aside
.
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
.
ACT 2. SC. 4
How
hard
it
is
for
women
to
keep
counsel
!
—
Art
thou
here
yet
?
Madam
,
what
should
I
do
?
Run
to
the
Capitol
,
and
nothing
else
?
And
so
return
to
you
,
and
nothing
else
?
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
?
I
hear
none
,
madam
.
Prithee
,
listen
well
.
I
heard
a
bustling
rumor
like
a
fray
,
And
the
wind
brings
it
from
the
Capitol
.
Sooth
,
madam
,
I
hear
nothing
.
Enter
the
Soothsayer
.
Come
hither
,
fellow
.
Which
way
hast
thou
been
?
At
mine
own
house
,
good
lady
.
What
is
’t
o’clock
?
About
the
ninth
hour
,
lady
.
Is
Caesar
yet
gone
to
the
Capitol
?
Madam
,
not
yet
.
I
go
to
take
my
stand
To
see
him
pass
on
to
the
Capitol
.
Thou
hast
some
suit
to
Caesar
,
hast
thou
not
?
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
.
Why
,
know’st
thou
any
harm’s
harms
intended
towards
him
?
ACT 2. SC. 4
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
.
He
exits
.
I
must
go
in
.
Aside
.
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
.
To
Lucius
.
Brutus
hath
a
suit
That
Caesar
will
not
grant
.
Aside
.
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
.
They
exit
separately
.
ACT
3
Scene
1
Flourish
.
Enter
Caesar
,
Antony
,
Lepidus
;
Brutus
,
Cassius
,
Casca
,
Decius
,
Metellus
,
Trebonius
,
Cinna
;
Publius
,
Popilius
,
Artemidorus
,
the
Soothsayer
,
and
other
Senators
and
Petitioners
.
The
ides
of
March
are
come
.
Ay
,
Caesar
,
but
not
gone
.
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
?
Sirrah
,
give
place
.
What
,
urge
you
your
petitions
in
the
street
?
Come
to
the
Capitol
.
Caesar
goes
forward
,
the
rest
following
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
,
to
Cassius
I
wish
your
enterprise
today
may
thrive
.
What
enterprise
,
Popilius
?
Fare
you
well
.
He
walks
away
.
What
said
Popilius
Lena
?
He
wished
today
our
enterprise
might
thrive
.
I
fear
our
purpose
is
discoverèd
.
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
.
Trebonius
and
Antony
exit
.
Where
is
Metellus
Cimber
?
Let
him
go
And
presently
prefer
his
suit
to
Caesar
.
He
is
addressed
.
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
?
,
kneeling
Most
high
,
most
mighty
,
and
most
puissant
Caesar
,
Metellus
Cimber
throws
before
thy
seat
An
humble
heart
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
I
must
prevent
thee
,
Cimber
.
These
couchings
and
these
lowly
courtesies
Might
fire
the
blood
of
ordinary
men
And
turn
preordinance
and
first
decree
Into
the
law
of
children
.
Be
not
fond
To
think
that
Caesar
bears
such
rebel
blood
That
will
be
thawed
from
the
true
quality
With
that
which
melteth
fools
—
I
mean
sweet
words
,
Low-crookèd
curtsies
,
and
base
spaniel
fawning
.
Thy
brother
by
decree
is
banishèd
.
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
banished
brother
?
,
kneeling
I
kiss
thy
hand
,
but
not
in
flattery
,
Caesar
,
Desiring
thee
that
Publius
Cimber
may
Have
an
immediate
freedom
of
repeal
.
What
,
Brutus
?
,
kneeling
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
fixed
and
resting
quality
There
is
no
fellow
in
the
firmament
.
The
skies
are
painted
with
unnumbered
sparks
;
ACT 3. SC. 1
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
furnished
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
banished
And
constant
do
remain
to
keep
him
so
.
,
kneeling
O
Caesar
—
Hence
.
Wilt
thou
lift
up
Olympus
?
,
kneeling
Great
Caesar
—
Doth
not
Brutus
bootless
kneel
?
Speak
,
hands
,
for
me
!
As
Casca
strikes
,
the
others
rise
up
and
stab
Caesar
.
Et
tu
,
Brutè
?
—
Then
fall
,
Caesar
.
He
dies
.
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
.
Where’s
Publius
?
Here
,
quite
confounded
with
this
mutiny
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
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
.
All
but
the
Conspirators
exit
.
Enter
Trebonius
.
Where
is
Antony
?
Fled
to
his
house
amazed
.
Men
,
wives
,
and
children
stare
,
cry
out
,
and
run
As
it
were
doomsday
.
Fates
,
we
will
know
your
pleasures
.
That
we
shall
die
we
know
;
’tis
but
the
time
,
And
drawing
days
out
,
that
men
stand
upon
.
Why
,
he
that
cuts
off
twenty
years
of
life
Cuts
off
so
many
years
of
fearing
death
.
Grant
that
,
and
then
is
death
a
benefit
.
So
are
we
Caesar’s
friends
,
that
have
abridged
His
time
of
fearing
death
.
Stoop
,
Romans
,
stoop
,
And
let
us
bathe
our
hands
in
Caesar’s
blood
Up
to
the
elbows
and
besmear
our
swords
.
Then
walk
we
forth
,
even
to
the
marketplace
,
And
,
waving
our
red
weapons
o’er
our
heads
,
Let’s
all
cry
Peace
,
freedom
,
and
liberty
!
ACT 3. SC. 1
Stoop
then
,
and
wash
.
They
smear
their
hands
and
swords
with
Caesar’s
blood
.
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
called
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
.
Enter
a
Servant
.
Soft
,
who
comes
here
?
A
friend
of
Antony’s
.
,
kneeling
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
honor
him
;
Say
,
I
feared
Caesar
,
honored
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
ACT 3. SC. 1
Thorough
the
hazards
of
this
untrod
state
With
all
true
faith
.
So
says
my
master
Antony
.
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
honor
,
Depart
untouched
.
I’ll
fetch
him
presently
.
Servant
exits
.
I
know
that
we
shall
have
him
well
to
friend
.
I
wish
we
may
;
but
yet
have
I
a
mind
That
fears
him
much
,
and
my
misgiving
still
Falls
shrewdly
to
the
purpose
.
Enter
Antony
.
But
here
comes
Antony
.
—
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’s
hour
,
nor
no
instrument
Of
half
that
worth
as
those
your
swords
made
rich
With
the
most
noble
blood
of
all
this
world
.
I
do
beseech
you
,
if
you
bear
me
hard
,
Now
,
whilst
your
purpled
hands
do
reek
and
smoke
,
Fulfill
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
,
ACT 3. SC. 1
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
;
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
.
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
.
—
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
,
ACT 3. SC. 1
Either
a
coward
or
a
flatterer
.
—
That
I
did
love
thee
,
Caesar
,
O
,
’tis
true
!
If
then
thy
spirit
look
upon
us
now
,
Shall
it
not
grieve
thee
dearer
than
thy
death
To
see
thy
Antony
making
his
peace
,
Shaking
the
bloody
fingers
of
thy
foes
—
Most
noble
!
—
in
the
presence
of
thy
corpse
?
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
bayed
,
brave
hart
,
Here
didst
thou
fall
,
and
here
thy
hunters
stand
Signed
in
thy
spoil
and
crimsoned
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
!
Mark
Antony
—
Pardon
me
,
Caius
Cassius
.
The
enemies
of
Caesar
shall
say
this
;
Then
,
in
a
friend
,
it
is
cold
modesty
.
I
blame
you
not
for
praising
Caesar
so
.
But
what
compact
mean
you
to
have
with
us
?
Will
you
be
pricked
in
number
of
our
friends
,
Or
shall
we
on
and
not
depend
on
you
?
Therefore
I
took
your
hands
,
but
was
indeed
Swayed
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
.
Or
else
were
this
a
savage
spectacle
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
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
marketplace
,
And
in
the
pulpit
,
as
becomes
a
friend
,
Speak
in
the
order
of
his
funeral
.
You
shall
,
Mark
Antony
.
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
?
,
aside
to
Cassius
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
.
,
aside
to
Brutus
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
.
ACT 3. SC. 1
Be
it
so
.
I
do
desire
no
more
.
Prepare
the
body
,
then
,
and
follow
us
.
All
but
Antony
exit
.
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
livèd
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
quartered
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
Octavius’
Servant
.
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
,
ACT 3. SC. 2
And
bid
me
say
to
you
by
word
of
mouth
—
O
Caesar
!
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
?
He
lies
tonight
within
seven
leagues
of
Rome
.
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
corpse
Into
the
marketplace
.
There
shall
I
try
,
In
my
oration
,
how
the
people
take
The
cruel
issue
of
these
bloody
men
,
According
to
the
which
thou
shalt
discourse
To
young
Octavius
of
the
state
of
things
.
Lend
me
your
hand
.
They
exit
with
Caesar’s
body
.
Scene
2
Enter
Brutus
and
Cassius
with
the
Plebeians
.
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
;
ACT 3. SC. 2
And
public
reasons
shall
be
renderèd
Of
Caesar’s
death
.
I
will
hear
Brutus
speak
.
I
will
hear
Cassius
,
and
compare
their
reasons
When
severally
we
hear
them
renderèd
.
Cassius
exits
with
some
of
the
Plebeians
.
Brutus
goes
into
the
pulpit
.
The
noble
Brutus
is
ascended
.
Silence
.
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
honor
,
and
have
respect
to
mine
honor
that
you
may
believe
.
Censure
me
in
your
wisdom
,
and
awake
your
senses
that
you
may
the
better
judge
.
If
there
be
any
in
this
assembly
,
any
dear
friend
of
Caesar’s
,
to
him
I
say
that
Brutus’
love
to
Caesar
was
no
less
than
his
.
If
then
that
friend
demand
why
Brutus
rose
against
Caesar
,
this
is
my
answer
:
not
that
I
loved
Caesar
less
,
but
that
I
loved
Rome
more
.
Had
you
rather
Caesar
were
living
,
and
die
all
slaves
,
than
that
Caesar
were
dead
,
to
live
all
freemen
?
As
Caesar
loved
me
,
I
weep
for
him
.
As
he
was
fortunate
,
I
rejoice
at
it
.
As
he
was
valiant
,
I
honor
him
.
But
,
as
he
was
ambitious
,
I
slew
him
.
There
is
tears
for
his
love
,
joy
for
his
fortune
,
honor
for
his
valor
,
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
.
Then
none
have
I
offended
.
I
have
done
no
ACT 3. SC. 2
more
to
Caesar
than
you
shall
do
to
Brutus
.
The
question
of
his
death
is
enrolled
in
the
Capitol
,
his
glory
not
extenuated
wherein
he
was
worthy
,
nor
his
offenses
enforced
for
which
he
suffered
death
.
Enter
Mark
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
.
Live
,
Brutus
,
live
,
live
!
Bring
him
with
triumph
home
unto
his
house
.
Give
him
a
statue
with
his
ancestors
.
Let
him
be
Caesar
.
Caesar’s
better
parts
Shall
be
crowned
in
Brutus
.
We’ll
bring
him
to
his
house
with
shouts
and
clamors
.
My
countrymen
—
Peace
,
silence
!
Brutus
speaks
.
Peace
,
ho
!
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
allowed
to
make
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
I
do
entreat
you
,
not
a
man
depart
,
Save
I
alone
,
till
Antony
have
spoke
.
He
descends
and
exits
.
Stay
,
ho
,
and
let
us
hear
Mark
Antony
!
Let
him
go
up
into
the
public
chair
.
We’ll
hear
him
.
—
Noble
Antony
,
go
up
.
For
Brutus’
sake
,
I
am
beholding
to
you
.
He
goes
into
the
pulpit
.
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
.
Nay
,
that’s
certain
.
We
are
blest
that
Rome
is
rid
of
him
.
Peace
,
let
us
hear
what
Antony
can
say
.
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
interrèd
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
answered
it
.
Here
,
under
leave
of
Brutus
and
the
rest
(
For
Brutus
is
an
honorable
man
;
ACT 3. SC. 2
So
are
they
all
,
all
honorable
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
honorable
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
honorable
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
honorable
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
.
He
weeps
.
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
.
Marked
you
his
words
?
He
would
not
take
the
crown
;
Therefore
’tis
certain
he
was
not
ambitious
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
If
it
be
found
so
,
some
will
dear
abide
it
.
Poor
soul
,
his
eyes
are
red
as
fire
with
weeping
.
There’s
not
a
nobler
man
in
Rome
than
Antony
.
Now
mark
him
.
He
begins
again
to
speak
.
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
honorable
men
.
I
will
not
do
them
wrong
.
I
rather
choose
To
wrong
the
dead
,
to
wrong
myself
and
you
,
Than
I
will
wrong
such
honorable
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
.
We’ll
hear
the
will
.
Read
it
,
Mark
Antony
.
The
will
,
the
will
!
We
will
hear
Caesar’s
will
.
Have
patience
,
gentle
friends
.
I
must
not
read
it
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
It
is
not
meet
you
know
how
Caesar
loved
you
.
You
are
not
wood
,
you
are
not
stones
,
but
men
.
And
,
being
men
,
hearing
the
will
of
Caesar
,
It
will
inflame
you
;
it
will
make
you
mad
.
’Tis
good
you
know
not
that
you
are
his
heirs
,
For
if
you
should
,
O
,
what
would
come
of
it
?
Read
the
will
!
We’ll
hear
it
,
Antony
.
You
shall
read
us
the
will
,
Caesar’s
will
.
Will
you
be
patient
?
Will
you
stay
awhile
?
I
have
o’ershot
myself
to
tell
you
of
it
.
I
fear
I
wrong
the
honorable
men
Whose
daggers
have
stabbed
Caesar
.
I
do
fear
it
.
They
were
traitors
.
Honorable
men
?
The
will
!
The
testament
!
They
were
villains
,
murderers
.
The
will
!
Read
the
will
.
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
?
Come
down
.
Descend
.
You
shall
have
leave
.
Antony
descends
.
A
ring
;
stand
round
.
Stand
from
the
hearse
.
Stand
from
the
body
.
Room
for
Antony
,
most
noble
Antony
.
Nay
,
press
not
so
upon
me
.
Stand
far
off
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Stand
back
!
Room
!
Bear
back
!
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-belovèd
Brutus
stabbed
,
And
,
as
he
plucked
his
cursèd
steel
away
,
Mark
how
the
blood
of
Caesar
followed
it
,
As
rushing
out
of
doors
to
be
resolved
If
Brutus
so
unkindly
knocked
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
vanquished
him
.
Then
burst
his
mighty
heart
,
And
,
in
his
mantle
muffling
up
his
face
,
Even
at
the
base
of
Pompey’s
statue
(
Which
all
the
while
ran
blood
)
great
Caesar
fell
.
O
,
what
a
fall
was
there
,
my
countrymen
!
Then
I
and
you
and
all
of
us
fell
down
,
Whilst
bloody
treason
flourished
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
,
Antony
lifts
Caesar’s
cloak
.
Here
is
himself
,
marred
as
you
see
with
traitors
.
O
piteous
spectacle
!
O
noble
Caesar
!
O
woeful
day
!
ACT 3. SC. 2
O
traitors
,
villains
!
O
most
bloody
sight
!
We
will
be
revenged
.
Revenge
!
About
!
Seek
!
Burn
!
Fire
!
Kill
!
Slay
!
Let
not
a
traitor
live
!
Stay
,
countrymen
.
Peace
there
!
Hear
the
noble
Antony
.
We’ll
hear
him
,
we’ll
follow
him
,
we’ll
die
with
him
.
Good
friends
,
sweet
friends
,
let
me
not
stir
you
up
To
such
a
sudden
flood
of
mutiny
.
They
that
have
done
this
deed
are
honorable
.
What
private
griefs
they
have
,
alas
,
I
know
not
,
That
made
them
do
it
.
They
are
wise
and
honorable
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
.
We’ll
mutiny
.
We’ll
burn
the
house
of
Brutus
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Away
then
.
Come
,
seek
the
conspirators
.
Yet
hear
me
,
countrymen
;
yet
hear
me
speak
.
Peace
,
ho
!
Hear
Antony
,
most
noble
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
.
Most
true
.
The
will
!
Let’s
stay
and
hear
the
will
.
Here
is
the
will
,
and
under
Caesar’s
seal
:
To
every
Roman
citizen
he
gives
,
To
every
several
man
,
seventy-five
drachmas
.
Most
noble
Caesar
!
We’ll
revenge
his
death
.
O
royal
Caesar
!
Hear
me
with
patience
.
Peace
,
ho
!
Moreover
,
he
hath
left
you
all
his
walks
,
His
private
arbors
,
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
?
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
.
Go
fetch
fire
.
Pluck
down
benches
.
ACT 3. SC. 3
Pluck
down
forms
,
windows
,
anything
.
Plebeians
exit
with
Caesar’s
body
.
Now
let
it
work
.
Mischief
,
thou
art
afoot
;
Take
thou
what
course
thou
wilt
.
Enter
Servant
.
How
now
,
fellow
?
Sir
,
Octavius
is
already
come
to
Rome
.
Where
is
he
?
He
and
Lepidus
are
at
Caesar’s
house
.
And
thither
will
I
straight
to
visit
him
.
He
comes
upon
a
wish
.
Fortune
is
merry
And
in
this
mood
will
give
us
anything
.
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
.
Bring
me
to
Octavius
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Cinna
the
poet
and
after
him
the
Plebeians
.
I
dreamt
tonight
that
I
did
feast
with
Caesar
,
And
things
unluckily
charge
my
fantasy
.
I
have
no
will
to
wander
forth
of
doors
,
Yet
something
leads
me
forth
.
What
is
your
name
?
ACT 3. SC. 3
Whither
are
you
going
?
Where
do
you
dwell
?
Are
you
a
married
man
or
a
bachelor
?
Answer
every
man
directly
.
Ay
,
and
briefly
.
Ay
,
and
wisely
.
Ay
,
and
truly
,
you
were
best
.
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
.
That’s
as
much
as
to
say
they
are
fools
that
marry
.
You’ll
bear
me
a
bang
for
that
,
I
fear
.
Proceed
directly
.
Directly
,
I
am
going
to
Caesar’s
funeral
.
As
a
friend
or
an
enemy
?
As
a
friend
.
That
matter
is
answered
directly
.
For
your
dwelling
—
briefly
.
Briefly
,
I
dwell
by
the
Capitol
.
Your
name
,
sir
,
truly
.
Truly
,
my
name
is
Cinna
.
Tear
him
to
pieces
!
He’s
a
conspirator
.
I
am
Cinna
the
poet
,
I
am
Cinna
the
poet
!
Tear
him
for
his
bad
verses
,
tear
him
for
his
bad
verses
!
I
am
not
Cinna
the
conspirator
.
It
is
no
matter
.
His
name’s
Cinna
.
Pluck
but
his
name
out
of
his
heart
,
and
turn
him
going
.
Tear
him
,
tear
him
!
Come
,
brands
,
ho
,
firebrands
!
To
Brutus’
,
to
Cassius’
,
burn
all
!
Some
to
Decius’
house
,
and
some
to
Casca’s
,
some
to
Ligarius’
.
Away
,
go
!
All
the
Plebeians
exit
,
carrying
off
Cinna
.
ACT
4
Scene
1
Enter
Antony
,
Octavius
,
and
Lepidus
.
These
many
,
then
,
shall
die
;
their
names
are
pricked
.
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
.
But
,
Lepidus
,
go
you
to
Caesar’s
house
;
Fetch
the
will
hither
,
and
we
shall
determine
How
to
cut
off
some
charge
in
legacies
.
What
,
shall
I
find
you
here
?
Or
here
,
or
at
the
Capitol
.
Lepidus
exits
.
This
is
a
slight
,
unmeritable
man
,
Meet
to
be
sent
on
errands
.
Is
it
fit
,
The
threefold
world
divided
,
he
should
stand
One
of
the
three
to
share
it
?
ACT 4. SC. 1
So
you
thought
him
And
took
his
voice
who
should
be
pricked
to
die
In
our
black
sentence
and
proscription
.
Octavius
,
I
have
seen
more
days
than
you
,
And
,
though
we
lay
these
honors
on
this
man
To
ease
ourselves
of
diverse
sland’rous
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
.
You
may
do
your
will
,
But
he’s
a
tried
and
valiant
soldier
.
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
governed
by
my
spirit
;
And
,
in
some
taste
,
is
Lepidus
but
so
.
He
must
be
taught
and
trained
and
bid
go
forth
—
A
barren-spirited
fellow
,
one
that
feeds
On
objects
,
arts
,
and
imitations
Which
,
out
of
use
and
staled
by
other
men
,
Begin
his
fashion
.
Do
not
talk
of
him
But
as
a
property
.
And
now
,
Octavius
,
Listen
great
things
.
Brutus
and
Cassius
Are
levying
powers
.
We
must
straight
make
head
.
Therefore
let
our
alliance
be
combined
,
Our
best
friends
made
,
our
means
stretched
;
And
let
us
presently
go
sit
in
council
How
covert
matters
may
be
best
disclosed
And
open
perils
surest
answerèd
.
ACT 4. SC. 2
Let
us
do
so
,
for
we
are
at
the
stake
And
bayed
about
with
many
enemies
,
And
some
that
smile
have
in
their
hearts
,
I
fear
,
Millions
of
mischiefs
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Drum
.
Enter
Brutus
,
Lucilius
,
Lucius
,
and
the
Army
.
Titinius
and
Pindarus
meet
them
.
Stand
ho
!
Give
the
word
,
ho
,
and
stand
!
What
now
,
Lucilius
,
is
Cassius
near
?
He
is
at
hand
,
and
Pindarus
is
come
To
do
you
salutation
from
his
master
.
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
.
I
do
not
doubt
But
that
my
noble
master
will
appear
Such
as
he
is
,
full
of
regard
and
honor
.
He
is
not
doubted
.
Brutus
and
Lucilius
walk
aside
.
A
word
,
Lucilius
,
How
he
received
you
.
Let
me
be
resolved
.
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
.
ACT 4. SC. 2
Thou
hast
described
A
hot
friend
cooling
.
Ever
note
,
Lucilius
,
When
love
begins
to
sicken
and
decay
It
useth
an
enforcèd
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
,
Low
march
within
.
But
when
they
should
endure
the
bloody
spur
,
They
fall
their
crests
and
,
like
deceitful
jades
,
Sink
in
the
trial
.
Comes
his
army
on
?
They
mean
this
night
in
Sardis
to
be
quartered
.
The
greater
part
,
the
horse
in
general
,
Are
come
with
Cassius
.
Enter
Cassius
and
his
powers
.
Hark
,
he
is
arrived
.
March
gently
on
to
meet
him
.
Stand
ho
!
Stand
ho
!
Speak
the
word
along
.
Stand
!
Stand
!
Stand
!
Most
noble
brother
,
you
have
done
me
wrong
.
Judge
me
,
you
gods
!
Wrong
I
mine
enemies
?
And
if
not
so
,
how
should
I
wrong
a
brother
?
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
.
Before
the
eyes
of
both
our
armies
here
(
Which
should
perceive
nothing
but
love
from
us
)
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
Let
us
not
wrangle
.
Bid
them
move
away
.
Then
in
my
tent
,
Cassius
,
enlarge
your
griefs
,
And
I
will
give
you
audience
.
Pindarus
,
Bid
our
commanders
lead
their
charges
off
A
little
from
this
ground
.
Lucius
,
do
you
the
like
,
and
let
no
man
Come
to
our
tent
till
we
have
done
our
conference
.
Let
Lucilius
and
Titinius
guard
our
door
.
All
but
Brutus
and
Cassius
exit
.
Scene
3
That
you
have
wronged
me
doth
appear
in
this
:
You
have
condemned
and
noted
Lucius
Pella
For
taking
bribes
here
of
the
Sardians
,
Wherein
my
letters
,
praying
on
his
side
Because
I
knew
the
man
,
was
slighted
off
.
You
wronged
yourself
to
write
in
such
a
case
.
In
such
a
time
as
this
it
is
not
meet
That
every
nice
offense
should
bear
his
comment
.
Let
me
tell
you
,
Cassius
,
you
yourself
Are
much
condemned
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
speaks
this
,
Or
,
by
the
gods
,
this
speech
were
else
your
last
.
The
name
of
Cassius
honors
this
corruption
,
And
chastisement
doth
therefore
hide
his
head
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Chastisement
?
Remember
March
;
the
ides
of
March
remember
.
Did
not
great
Julius
bleed
for
justice’
sake
?
What
villain
touched
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
honors
For
so
much
trash
as
may
be
graspèd
thus
?
I
had
rather
be
a
dog
and
bay
the
moon
Than
such
a
Roman
.
Brutus
,
bait
not
me
.
I’ll
not
endure
it
.
You
forget
yourself
To
hedge
me
in
.
I
am
a
soldier
,
I
,
Older
in
practice
,
abler
than
yourself
To
make
conditions
.
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
farther
.
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
you
gods
,
you
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
?
ACT 4. SC. 3
Must
I
observe
you
?
Must
I
stand
and
crouch
Under
your
testy
humor
?
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
.
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
.
There
is
no
terror
,
Cassius
,
in
your
threats
,
For
I
am
armed
so
strong
in
honesty
That
they
pass
by
me
as
the
idle
wind
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
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
answered
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
practice
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
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
Checked
like
a
bondman
,
all
his
faults
observed
,
Set
in
a
notebook
,
learned
and
conned
by
rote
To
cast
into
my
teeth
.
O
,
I
could
weep
My
spirit
from
mine
eyes
!
There
is
my
dagger
,
Offering
his
dagger
to
Brutus
.
And
here
my
naked
breast
;
within
,
a
heart
Dearer
than
Pluto’s
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
.
Do
what
you
will
,
dishonor
shall
be
humor
.
O
Cassius
,
you
are
yokèd
with
a
lamb
That
carries
anger
as
the
flint
bears
fire
,
Who
,
much
enforcèd
,
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-tempered
vexeth
him
?
When
I
spoke
that
,
I
was
ill-tempered
too
.
Do
you
confess
so
much
?
Give
me
your
hand
.
And
my
heart
too
.
They
clasp
hands
.
O
Brutus
!
What’s
the
matter
?
Have
not
you
love
enough
to
bear
with
me
When
that
rash
humor
which
my
mother
gave
me
Makes
me
forgetful
?
ACT 4. SC. 3
Yes
,
Cassius
,
and
from
henceforth
When
you
are
over-earnest
with
your
Brutus
,
He’ll
think
your
mother
chides
,
and
leave
you
so
.
Enter
a
Poet
followed
by
Lucilius
,
Titinius
,
and
Lucius
.
Let
me
go
in
to
see
the
Generals
.
There
is
some
grudge
between
’em
;
’tis
not
meet
They
be
alone
.
You
shall
not
come
to
them
.
Nothing
but
death
shall
stay
me
.
How
now
,
what’s
the
matter
?
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
.
Ha
,
ha
,
how
vilely
doth
this
cynic
rhyme
!
Get
you
hence
,
sirrah
!
Saucy
fellow
,
hence
!
Bear
with
him
,
Brutus
.
’Tis
his
fashion
.
I’ll
know
his
humor
when
he
knows
his
time
.
What
should
the
wars
do
with
these
jigging
fools
?
—
Companion
,
hence
!
Away
,
away
,
be
gone
!
Poet
exits
.
Lucilius
and
Titinius
,
bid
the
commanders
Prepare
to
lodge
their
companies
tonight
.
And
come
yourselves
,
and
bring
Messala
with
you
Immediately
to
us
.
Lucilius
and
Titinius
exit
.
Lucius
,
a
bowl
of
wine
.
Lucius
exits
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
I
did
not
think
you
could
have
been
so
angry
.
O
Cassius
,
I
am
sick
of
many
griefs
.
Of
your
philosophy
you
make
no
use
If
you
give
place
to
accidental
evils
.
No
man
bears
sorrow
better
.
Portia
is
dead
.
Ha
?
Portia
?
She
is
dead
.
How
’scaped
I
killing
when
I
crossed
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
,
swallowed
fire
.
And
died
so
?
Even
so
.
O
you
immortal
gods
!
Enter
Lucius
with
wine
and
tapers
.
Speak
no
more
of
her
.
—
Give
me
a
bowl
of
wine
.
—
In
this
I
bury
all
unkindness
,
Cassius
.
He
drinks
.
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
.
He
drinks
.
Lucius
exits
.
Enter
Titinius
and
Messala
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Come
in
,
Titinius
.
Welcome
,
good
Messala
.
Now
sit
we
close
about
this
taper
here
,
And
call
in
question
our
necessities
.
They
sit
.
Portia
,
art
thou
gone
?
No
more
,
I
pray
you
.
—
Messala
,
I
have
here
receivèd
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
.
With
what
addition
?
That
by
proscription
and
bills
of
outlawry
,
Octavius
,
Antony
,
and
Lepidus
Have
put
to
death
an
hundred
senators
.
Therein
our
letters
do
not
well
agree
.
Mine
speak
of
seventy
senators
that
died
By
their
proscriptions
,
Cicero
being
one
.
Cicero
one
?
Cicero
is
dead
,
And
by
that
order
of
proscription
.
Had
you
your
letters
from
your
wife
,
my
lord
?
No
,
Messala
.
Nor
nothing
in
your
letters
writ
of
her
?
Nothing
,
Messala
.
That
methinks
is
strange
.
Why
ask
you
?
Hear
you
aught
of
her
in
yours
?
No
,
my
lord
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Now
,
as
you
are
a
Roman
,
tell
me
true
.
Then
like
a
Roman
bear
the
truth
I
tell
,
For
certain
she
is
dead
,
and
by
strange
manner
.
Why
,
farewell
,
Portia
.
We
must
die
,
Messala
.
With
meditating
that
she
must
die
once
,
I
have
the
patience
to
endure
it
now
.
Even
so
great
men
great
losses
should
endure
.
I
have
as
much
of
this
in
art
as
you
,
But
yet
my
nature
could
not
bear
it
so
.
Well
,
to
our
work
alive
.
What
do
you
think
Of
marching
to
Philippi
presently
?
I
do
not
think
it
good
.
Your
reason
?
This
it
is
:
’Tis
better
that
the
enemy
seek
us
;
So
shall
he
waste
his
means
,
weary
his
soldiers
,
Doing
himself
offense
,
whilst
we
,
lying
still
,
Are
full
of
rest
,
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
.
The
enemy
,
marching
along
by
them
,
By
them
shall
make
a
fuller
number
up
,
Come
on
refreshed
,
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
.
Hear
me
,
good
brother
—
ACT 4. SC. 3
Under
your
pardon
.
You
must
note
besides
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
.
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
.
They
stand
.
Early
tomorrow
will
we
rise
and
hence
.
Lucius
.
Enter
Lucius
.
My
gown
.
Lucius
exits
.
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
.
Enter
Lucius
with
the
gown
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Everything
is
well
.
Good
night
,
my
lord
.
Good
night
,
good
brother
.
Good
night
,
Lord
Brutus
.
Farewell
,
everyone
.
All
but
Brutus
and
Lucius
exit
.
Give
me
the
gown
.
Where
is
thy
instrument
?
Here
in
the
tent
.
What
,
thou
speak’st
drowsily
?
Poor
knave
,
I
blame
thee
not
;
thou
art
o’erwatched
.
Call
Claudius
and
some
other
of
my
men
;
I’ll
have
them
sleep
on
cushions
in
my
tent
.
Varro
and
Claudius
.
Enter
Varro
and
Claudius
.
Calls
my
lord
?
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
.
So
please
you
,
we
will
stand
and
watch
your
pleasure
.
I
will
not
have
it
so
.
Lie
down
,
good
sirs
.
It
may
be
I
shall
otherwise
bethink
me
.
They
lie
down
.
Look
,
Lucius
,
here’s
the
book
I
sought
for
so
.
I
put
it
in
the
pocket
of
my
gown
.
I
was
sure
your
Lordship
lordship
did
not
give
it
me
.
Bear
with
me
,
good
boy
,
I
am
much
forgetful
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Canst
thou
hold
up
thy
heavy
eyes
awhile
And
touch
thy
instrument
a
strain
or
two
?
Ay
,
my
lord
,
an
’t
please
you
.
It
does
,
my
boy
.
I
trouble
thee
too
much
,
but
thou
art
willing
.
It
is
my
duty
,
sir
.
I
should
not
urge
thy
duty
past
thy
might
.
I
know
young
bloods
look
for
a
time
of
rest
.
I
have
slept
,
my
lord
,
already
.
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
.
Lucius
then
falls
asleep
.
This
is
a
sleepy
tune
.
O
murd’rous
slumber
,
Layest
thou
thy
leaden
mace
upon
my
boy
,
That
plays
thee
music
?
—
Gentle
knave
,
good
night
.
I
will
not
do
thee
so
much
wrong
to
wake
thee
.
If
thou
dost
nod
,
thou
break’st
thy
instrument
.
I’ll
take
it
from
thee
and
,
good
boy
,
good
night
.
He
moves
the
instrument
.
Let
me
see
,
let
me
see
;
is
not
the
leaf
turned
down
Where
I
left
reading
?
Here
it
is
,
I
think
.
How
ill
this
taper
burns
.
Enter
the
Ghost
of
Caesar
.
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
mak’st
my
blood
cold
and
my
hair
to
stare
?
Speak
to
me
what
thou
art
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Thy
evil
spirit
,
Brutus
.
Why
com’st
thou
?
To
tell
thee
thou
shalt
see
me
at
Philippi
.
Well
,
then
I
shall
see
thee
again
?
Ay
,
at
Philippi
.
Why
,
I
will
see
thee
at
Philippi
,
then
.
Ghost
exits
.
Now
I
have
taken
heart
,
thou
vanishest
.
Ill
spirit
,
I
would
hold
more
talk
with
thee
.
—
Boy
,
Lucius
!
—
Varro
,
Claudius
,
sirs
,
awake
!
Claudius
!
The
strings
,
my
lord
,
are
false
.
He
thinks
he
still
is
at
his
instrument
.
Lucius
,
awake
!
My
lord
?
Didst
thou
dream
,
Lucius
,
that
thou
so
criedst
out
?
My
lord
,
I
do
not
know
that
I
did
cry
.
Yes
,
that
thou
didst
.
Didst
thou
see
anything
?
Nothing
,
my
lord
.
Sleep
again
,
Lucius
.
—
Sirrah
Claudius
!
To
Varro
.
Fellow
thou
,
awake
!
They
rise
up
.
My
lord
?
My
lord
?
Why
did
you
so
cry
out
,
sirs
,
in
your
sleep
?
Did
we
,
my
lord
?
Ay
.
Saw
you
anything
?
No
,
my
lord
,
I
saw
nothing
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Nor
I
,
my
lord
.
Go
and
commend
me
to
my
brother
Cassius
.
Bid
him
set
on
his
powers
betimes
before
,
And
we
will
follow
.
It
shall
be
done
,
my
lord
.
They
exit
.
ACT
5
Scene
1
Enter
Octavius
,
Antony
,
and
their
army
.
Now
,
Antony
,
our
hopes
are
answerèd
.
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
.
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
.
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
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
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
.
March
.
Drum
.
Enter
Brutus
,
Cassius
,
and
their
army
including
Lucilius
,
Titinius
,
and
Messala
.
They
stand
and
would
have
parley
.
Stand
fast
,
Titinius
.
We
must
out
and
talk
.
Mark
Antony
,
shall
we
give
sign
of
battle
?
No
,
Caesar
,
we
will
answer
on
their
charge
.
Make
forth
.
The
Generals
would
have
some
words
.
,
to
his
Officers
Stir
not
until
the
signal
.
The
Generals
step
forward
.
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
.
Witness
the
hole
you
made
in
Caesar’s
heart
,
Crying
Long
live
,
hail
,
Caesar
!
Antony
,
The
posture
of
your
blows
are
yet
unknown
,
But
,
for
your
words
,
they
rob
the
Hybla
bees
And
leave
them
honeyless
.
Not
stingless
too
.
O
yes
,
and
soundless
too
,
ACT 5. SC. 1
For
you
have
stolen
their
buzzing
,
Antony
,
And
very
wisely
threat
before
you
sting
.
Villains
,
you
did
not
so
when
your
vile
daggers
Hacked
one
another
in
the
sides
of
Caesar
.
You
showed
your
teeth
like
apes
and
fawned
like
hounds
And
bowed
like
bondmen
,
kissing
Caesar’s
feet
,
Whilst
damnèd
Casca
,
like
a
cur
,
behind
Struck
Caesar
on
the
neck
.
O
you
flatterers
!
Flatterers
?
—
Now
,
Brutus
,
thank
yourself
!
This
tongue
had
not
offended
so
today
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
;
He
draws
.
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
.
Caesar
,
thou
canst
not
die
by
traitors’
hands
Unless
thou
bring’st
them
with
thee
.
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
honorable
.
A
peevish
schoolboy
,
worthless
of
such
honor
,
Joined
with
a
masker
and
a
reveler
!
Old
Cassius
still
.
Come
,
Antony
,
away
!
—
ACT 5. SC. 1
Defiance
,
traitors
,
hurl
we
in
your
teeth
.
If
you
dare
fight
today
,
come
to
the
field
;
If
not
,
when
you
have
stomachs
.
Octavius
,
Antony
,
and
their
army
exit
.
Why
now
,
blow
wind
,
swell
billow
,
and
swim
bark
!
The
storm
is
up
,
and
all
is
on
the
hazard
.
Ho
,
Lucilius
,
hark
,
a
word
with
you
.
Lucilius
and
Messala
stand
forth
.
My
lord
?
Brutus
and
Lucilius
step
aside
together
.
Messala
.
What
says
my
general
?
Messala
,
This
is
my
birthday
,
as
this
very
day
Was
Cassius
born
.
Give
me
thy
hand
,
Messala
.
Be
thou
my
witness
that
against
my
will
(
As
Pompey
was
)
am
I
compelled
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
perched
,
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
.
Believe
not
so
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
I
but
believe
it
partly
,
For
I
am
fresh
of
spirit
and
resolved
To
meet
all
perils
very
constantly
.
Even
so
,
Lucilius
.
Brutus
returns
to
Cassius
.
Now
,
most
noble
Brutus
,
The
gods
today
stand
friendly
that
we
may
,
Lovers
in
peace
,
lead
on
our
days
to
age
.
But
since
the
affairs
of
men
rests
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
determinèd
to
do
?
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
.
Then
,
if
we
lose
this
battle
,
You
are
contented
to
be
led
in
triumph
Thorough
the
streets
of
Rome
?
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
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Forever
and
forever
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
.
—
Come
ho
,
away
!
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Alarum
.
Enter
Brutus
and
Messala
.
Ride
,
ride
,
Messala
,
ride
,
and
give
these
bills
Unto
the
legions
on
the
other
side
!
He
hands
Messala
papers
.
Loud
alarum
.
Let
them
set
on
at
once
,
for
I
perceive
But
cold
demeanor
in
Octavius’
wing
,
And
sudden
push
gives
them
the
overthrow
.
Ride
,
ride
,
Messala
!
Let
them
all
come
down
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Alarums
.
Enter
Cassius
carrying
a
standard
and
Titinius
.
O
,
look
,
Titinius
,
look
,
the
villains
fly
!
Myself
have
to
mine
own
turned
enemy
.
This
ensign
here
of
mine
was
turning
back
;
I
slew
the
coward
and
did
take
it
from
him
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
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
.
Fly
further
off
,
my
lord
,
fly
further
off
!
Mark
Antony
is
in
your
tents
,
my
lord
.
Fly
therefore
,
noble
Cassius
,
fly
far
off
.
This
hill
is
far
enough
.
—
Look
,
look
,
Titinius
,
Are
those
my
tents
where
I
perceive
the
fire
?
They
are
,
my
lord
.
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
.
I
will
be
here
again
even
with
a
thought
.
He
exits
.
Go
,
Pindarus
,
get
higher
on
that
hill
.
My
sight
was
ever
thick
.
Regard
Titinius
And
tell
me
what
thou
not’st
about
the
field
.
Pindarus
goes
up
.
This
day
I
breathèd
first
.
Time
is
come
round
,
And
where
I
did
begin
,
there
shall
I
end
;
My
life
is
run
his
compass
.
—
Sirrah
,
what
news
?
,
above
.
O
my
lord
!
What
news
?
Titinius
is
enclosèd
round
about
ACT 5. SC. 3
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
.
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
comes
down
.
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
covered
,
as
’tis
now
,
Guide
thou
the
sword
.
Pindarus
stabs
him
.
Caesar
,
thou
art
revenged
Even
with
the
sword
that
killed
thee
.
He
dies
.
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
.
He
exits
.
Enter
Titinius
and
Messala
.
It
is
but
change
,
Titinius
,
for
Octavius
Is
overthrown
by
noble
Brutus’
power
,
As
Cassius’
legions
are
by
Antony
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
These
tidings
will
well
comfort
Cassius
.
Where
did
you
leave
him
?
All
disconsolate
,
With
Pindarus
his
bondman
,
on
this
hill
.
Is
not
that
he
that
lies
upon
the
ground
?
He
lies
not
like
the
living
.
O
my
heart
!
Is
not
that
he
?
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
.
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
com’st
unto
a
happy
birth
But
kill’st
the
mother
that
engendered
thee
!
What
,
Pindarus
!
Where
art
thou
,
Pindarus
?
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
envenomèd
Shall
be
as
welcome
to
the
ears
of
Brutus
As
tidings
of
this
sight
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Hie
you
,
Messala
,
And
I
will
seek
for
Pindarus
the
while
.
Messala
exits
.
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
.
Laying
the
garland
on
Cassius’
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
!
He
dies
on
Cassius’
sword
.
Alarum
.
Enter
Brutus
,
Messala
,
young
Cato
,
Strato
,
Volumnius
,
and
Lucilius
,
Labeo
,
and
Flavius
.
Where
,
where
,
Messala
,
doth
his
body
lie
?
Lo
,
yonder
,
and
Titinius
mourning
it
.
Titinius’
face
is
upward
.
He
is
slain
.
O
Julius
Caesar
,
thou
art
mighty
yet
;
Thy
spirit
walks
abroad
and
turns
our
swords
In
our
own
proper
entrails
.
Low
alarums
.
Brave
Titinius
!
—
Look
whe’er
he
have
not
crowned
dead
Cassius
.
Are
yet
two
Romans
living
such
as
these
?
—
The
last
of
all
the
Romans
,
fare
thee
well
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
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
.
They
exit
.
Scene
4
Alarum
.
Enter
Brutus
,
Messala
,
Cato
,
Lucilius
,
and
Flavius
.
Yet
,
countrymen
,
O
,
yet
hold
up
your
heads
!
Brutus
,
Messala
,
and
Flavius
exit
.
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
!
Enter
Soldiers
and
fight
.
And
I
am
Brutus
,
Marcus
Brutus
,
I
!
Brutus
,
my
country’s
friend
!
Know
me
for
Brutus
.
Cato
is
killed
.
O
young
and
noble
Cato
,
art
thou
down
?
ACT 5. SC. 4
Why
,
now
thou
diest
as
bravely
as
Titinius
And
mayst
be
honored
,
being
Cato’s
son
.
,
seizing
Lucilius
Yield
,
or
thou
diest
.
Only
I
yield
to
die
.
There
is
so
much
that
thou
wilt
kill
me
straight
.
Offering
money
.
Kill
Brutus
and
be
honored
in
his
death
.
We
must
not
.
A
noble
prisoner
!
Enter
Antony
.
Room
,
ho
!
Tell
Antony
Brutus
is
ta’en
.
I’ll
tell
the
news
.
Here
comes
the
General
.
—
Brutus
is
ta’en
,
Brutus
is
ta’en
,
my
lord
.
Where
is
he
?
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
.
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
whe’er
Brutus
be
alive
or
dead
,
And
bring
us
word
unto
Octavius’
tent
How
everything
is
chanced
.
They
exit
in
different
directions
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
Scene
5
Enter
Brutus
,
Dardanus
,
Clitus
,
Strato
,
and
Volumnius
.
Come
,
poor
remains
of
friends
,
rest
on
this
rock
.
He
sits
down
.
Statilius
showed
the
torchlight
,
but
,
my
lord
,
He
came
not
back
.
He
is
or
ta’en
or
slain
.
Sit
thee
down
,
Clitus
.
Slaying
is
the
word
;
It
is
a
deed
in
fashion
.
Hark
thee
,
Clitus
.
He
whispers
to
Clitus
.
What
,
I
,
my
lord
?
No
,
not
for
all
the
world
.
Peace
,
then
,
no
words
.
I’ll
rather
kill
myself
.
Hark
thee
,
Dardanus
.
He
whispers
to
Dardanus
.
Shall
I
do
such
a
deed
?
O
Dardanus
!
O
Clitus
!
Dardanus
and
Clitus
step
aside
.
What
ill
request
did
Brutus
make
to
thee
?
To
kill
him
,
Clitus
.
Look
,
he
meditates
.
Now
is
that
noble
vessel
full
of
grief
,
That
it
runs
over
even
at
his
eyes
.
Come
hither
,
good
Volumnius
.
List
a
word
.
What
says
my
lord
?
Why
this
,
Volumnius
:
ACT 5. SC. 5
The
ghost
of
Caesar
hath
appeared
to
me
Two
several
times
by
night
—
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
.
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
.
That’s
not
an
office
for
a
friend
,
my
lord
.
Alarum
continues
.
Fly
,
fly
,
my
lord
!
There
is
no
tarrying
here
.
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
labored
to
attain
this
hour
.
Alarum
.
Cry
within
Fly
,
fly
,
fly
!
Fly
,
my
lord
,
fly
!
Hence
.
I
will
follow
.
All
exit
but
Brutus
and
Strato
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
I
prithee
,
Strato
,
stay
thou
by
thy
lord
.
Thou
art
a
fellow
of
a
good
respect
;
Thy
life
hath
had
some
smatch
of
honor
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
.
Brutus
runs
on
his
sword
.
Caesar
,
now
be
still
.
I
killed
not
thee
with
half
so
good
a
will
.
He
dies
.
Alarum
.
Retreat
.
Enter
Antony
,
Octavius
,
Messala
,
Lucilius
,
and
the
army
.
What
man
is
that
?
My
master’s
man
.
—
Strato
,
where
is
thy
master
?
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
honor
by
his
death
.
So
Brutus
should
be
found
.
—
I
thank
thee
,
Brutus
,
That
thou
hast
proved
Lucilius’
saying
true
.
All
that
served
Brutus
,
I
will
entertain
them
.
—
Fellow
,
wilt
thou
bestow
thy
time
with
me
?
Ay
,
if
Messala
will
prefer
me
to
you
.
Do
so
,
good
Messala
.
How
died
my
master
,
Strato
?
I
held
the
sword
,
and
he
did
run
on
it
.
ACT 5. SC. 5
Octavius
,
then
take
him
to
follow
thee
,
That
did
the
latest
service
to
my
master
.
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
mixed
in
him
that
nature
might
stand
up
And
say
to
all
the
world
This
was
a
man
.
According
to
his
virtue
,
let
us
use
him
With
all
respect
and
rites
of
burial
.
Within
my
tent
his
bones
tonight
shall
lie
,
Most
like
a
soldier
,
ordered
honorably
.
So
call
the
field
to
rest
,
and
let’s
away
To
part
the
glories
of
this
happy
day
.
They
all
exit
.
all or part of a full metrical line
all or part of a prose speech
a short line which cannot be joined with other lines to form a full metrical line, or which may not be definitively identified as verse or prose
editorial emendation