Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above. | |
| |
A crowd of People; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CÆSAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, METELLUS, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and Others. | |
| Cæs. [To the Soothsayer.] The ides of March are come. | |
| Sooth. Ay, Cæsar; but not gone. | 4 |
| Art. Hail, Cæsar! Read this schedule. | |
| Dec. Trebonius doth desire you to o’er-read, | |
| At your best leisure, this his humble suit. | |
| Art. O Cæsar! read mine first; for mine’s a suit | 8 |
| That touches Cæsar nearer. Read it, great Cæsar. | |
| Cæs. What touches us ourself shall be last serv’d. | |
| Art. Delay not, Cæsar; read it instantly. | |
| Cæs. What! is the fellow mad? | 12 |
| Pub. Sirrah, give place. | |
| Cæs. What! urge you your petitions in the street? | |
| Come to the Capitol. | |
| |
CÆSAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following. All the Senators rise. | 16 |
| Pop. I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. | |
| Cas. What enterprise, Popilius? | |
| Pop. Fare you well. [Advances to CÆSAR. | |
| Bru. What said Popilius Lena? | 20 |
| Cas. He wish’d to-day our enterprise might thrive. | |
| I fear our purpose is discovered. | |
| Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæsar: mark him. | |
| Cas. Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. | 24 |
| Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, | |
| Cassius or Cæsar never shall turn back, | |
| For I will slay myself. | |
| Bru. Cassius, be constant: | 28 |
| Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; | |
| For, look, he smiles, and Cæsar doth not change. | |
| Cas. Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus, | |
| He draws Mark Antony out of the way. [Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS. CÆSAR and the Senators take their seats. | 32 |
| Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, | |
| And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar. | |
| Bru. He is address’d; press near and second him. | |
| Cin. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. | 36 |
| Casca. Are we all ready? What is now amiss, | |
| That Cæsar and his senate must redress? | |
| Met. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Cæsar, | |
| Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat | 40 |
| A humble heart,— [Kneeling. | |
| Cæs. I must prevent thee, Cimber. | |
| These couchings and these lowly courtesies, | |
| Might fire the blood of ordinary men, | 44 |
| And turn pre-ordinance and first decree | |
| Into the law of children. Be not fond, | |
| To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood | |
| That will be thaw’d from the true quality | 48 |
| With that which melteth fools; I mean sweet words, | |
| Low-crooked curtsies, and base spaniel fawning. | |
| Thy brother by decree is banished: | |
| If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, | 52 |
| I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. | |
| Know, Cæsar doth not wrong, nor without cause | |
| Will he be satisfied. | |
| Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, | 56 |
| To sound more sweetly in great Cæsar’s ear | |
| For the repealing of my banish’d brother? | |
| Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæsar; | |
| Desiring thee, that Publius Cimber may | 60 |
| Have an immediate freedom of repeal. | |
| Cæs. What, Brutus! | |
| Cas. Pardon, Cæsar; Cæsar, pardon: | |
| As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, | 64 |
| To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. | |
| Cæs. I could be well mov’d if I were as you; | |
| If I could pray to move, prayers would move me; | |
| But I am constant as the northern star, | 68 |
| Of whose true-fix’d and resting quality | |
| There is no fellow in the firmament. | |
| The skies are painted with unnumber’d sparks, | |
| They are all fire and every one doth shine, | 72 |
| But there’s but one in all doth hold his place: | |
| So, in the world; ’tis furnish’d well with men, | |
| And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; | |
| Yet in the number I do know but one | 76 |
| That unassailable holds on his rank, | |
| Unshak’d of motion: and that I am he, | |
| Let me a little show it, even in this, | |
| That I was constant Cimber should be banish’d, | 80 |
| And constant do remain to keep him so. | |
| Cin. O Cæsar,— | |
| Cæs. Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus! | |
| Dec. Great Cæsar,— | 84 |
| Cæs. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? | |
| Casca. Speak, hands, for me! [They stab Cæsar. | |
| Cæs. Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Cæsar! [Dies. | |
| Cin. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! | 88 |
| Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. | |
| Cas. Some to the common pulpits, and cry out, | |
| ‘Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!’ | |
| Bru. People and senators be not affrighted; | 92 |
| Fly not; stand still; ambition’s debt is paid. | |
| Casca. Go to the pulpit, Brutus. | |
| Dec. And Cassius too. | |
| Bru. Where’s Publius? | 96 |
| Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. | |
| Met. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Cæsar’s | |
| Should chance— | |
| Bru. Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; | 100 |
| There is no harm intended to your person, | |
| Nor to no Roman else; so tell them, Publius. | |
| Cas. And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, | |
| Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. | 104 |
| Bru. Do so; and let no man abide this deed | |
| But we the doers. | |
| |
Re-enter TREBONIUS. | |
| Cas. Where’s Antony? | 108 |
| Tre. Fled to his house amaz’d. | |
| Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run | |
| As it were doomsday. | |
| Bru. Fates, we will know your pleasures. | 112 |
| That we shall die, we know; ’tis but the time | |
| And drawing days out, that men stand upon. | |
| Casca. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life | |
| Cuts off so many years of fearing death. | 116 |
| Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit: | |
| So are we Cæsar’s friends, that have abridg’d | |
| His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, | |
| And let us bathe our hands in Cæsar’s blood | 120 |
| Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: | |
| Then walk we forth, even to the market-place; | |
| And waving our red weapons o’er our heads, | |
| Let’s all cry, ‘Peace, freedom, and liberty!’ | 124 |
| Cas. Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence | |
| Shall this our lofty scene be acted o’er, | |
| In states unborn and accents yet unknown! | |
| Bru. How many times shall Cæsar bleed in sport, | 128 |
| That now on Pompey’s basis lies along | |
| No worthier than the dust! | |
| Cas. So oft as that shall be, | |
| So often shall the knot of us be call’d | 132 |
| The men that gave their country liberty. | |
| Dec. What! shall we forth? | |
| Cas. Ay, every man away: | |
| Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels | 136 |
| With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. | |
| |
Enter a Servant. | |
| Bru. Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony’s. | |
| Serv. Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel; | 140 |
| Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; | |
| And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: | |
| Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; | |
| Cæsar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: | 144 |
| Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; | |
| Say I fear’d Cæsar, honour’d him, and lov’d him. | |
| If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony | |
| May safely come to him, and be resolv’d | 148 |
| How Cæsar hath deserv’d to lie in death, | |
| Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar dead | |
| So well as Brutus living; but will follow | |
| The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus | 152 |
| Thorough the hazards of this untrod state | |
| With all true faith. So says my master Antony. | |
| Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; | |
| I never thought him worse. | 156 |
| Tell him, so please him come unto this place, | |
| He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, | |
| Depart untouch’d. | |
| Serv. I’ll fetch him presently. [Exit. | 160 |
| Bru. I know that we shall have him well to friend. | |
| Cas. I wish we may: but yet have I a mind | |
| That fears him much; and my misgiving still | |
| Falls shrewdly to the purpose. | 164 |
| |
Re-enter ANTONY. | |
| Bru. But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony. | |
| Ant. O mighty Cæsar! dost thou lie so low? | |
| Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, | 168 |
| 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 | 172 |
| As Cæsar’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 ye, if ye bear me hard, | 176 |
| Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, | |
| Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, | |
| I shall not find myself so apt to die: | |
| No place will please me so, no mean of death, | 180 |
| As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off, | |
| The choice and master spirits of this age. | |
| Bru. O Antony! beg not your death of us. | |
| Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, | 184 |
| 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; | 188 |
| And pity to the general wrong of Rome— | |
| As fire drives out fire, so pity pity— | |
| Hath done this deed on Cæsar. For your part, | |
| To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony; | 192 |
| Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts | |
| Of brothers’ temper, do receive you in | |
| With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. | |
| Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as any man’s | 196 |
| In the disposing of new dignities. | |
| Bru. Only be patient till we have appeas’d | |
| The multitude, beside themselves with fear, | |
| And then we will deliver you the cause | 200 |
| Why I, that did love Cæsar when I struck him, | |
| Have thus proceeded. | |
| Ant. I doubt not of your wisdom. | |
| Let each man render me his bloody hand: | 204 |
| 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; | 208 |
| 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, | 212 |
| Either a coward or a flatterer. | |
| That I did love thee, Cæsar, O! ’tis true: | |
| If then thy spirit look upon us now, | |
| Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, | 216 |
| To see thy Antony making his peace, | |
| Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, | |
| Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? | |
| Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, | 220 |
| Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, | |
| It would become me better than to close | |
| In terms of friendship with thine enemies. | |
| Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay’d, brave hart; | 224 |
| Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, | |
| Sign’d in thy spoil, and crimson’d in thy leth | |
| O world! thou wast the forest to this hart; | |
| And this, indeed, O world! the heart of thee. | 228 |
| How like a deer, strucken by many princes, | |
| Dost thou here lie! | |
| Cas. Mark Antony,— | |
| Ant. Pardon me, Caius Cassius: | 232 |
| The enemies of Cæsar shall say this; | |
| Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. | |
| Cas. I blame you not for praising Cæsar so; | |
| But what compact mean you to have with us? | 236 |
| Will you be prick’d in number of our friends, | |
| Or shall we on, and not depend on you? | |
| Ant. Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed | |
| Sway’d from the point by looking down on Cæsar. | 240 |
| Friends am I with you all, and love you all, | |
| Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons | |
| Why and wherein Cæsar was dangerous. | |
| Bru. Or else were this a savage spectacle. | 244 |
| Our reasons are so full of good regard | |
| That were you, Antony, the son of Cæsar, | |
| You should be satisfied. | |
| Ant. That’s all I seek: | 248 |
| And am moreover suitor that I may | |
| Produce his body to the market place; | |
| And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, | |
| Speak in the order of his funeral. | 252 |
| Bru. You shall, Mark Antony. | |
| Cas. Brutus, a word with you. | |
| [Aside to BRUTUS.] You know not what you do; do not consent | |
| That Antony speak in his funeral: | 256 |
| Know you how much the people may be mov’d | |
| By that which he will utter? | |
| Bru. By your pardon; | |
| I will myself into the pulpit first, | 260 |
| And show the reason of our Cæsar’s death: | |
| What Antony shall speak, I will protest | |
| He speaks by leave and by permission, | |
| And that we are contented Cæsar shall | 264 |
| Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. | |
| It shall advantage more than do us wrong. | |
| Cas. I know not what may fall; I like it not. | |
| Bru. Mark Antony, here, take you Cæsar’s body. | 268 |
| You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, | |
| But speak all good you can devise of Cæsar, | |
| And say you do ’t by our permission; | |
| Else shall you not have any hand at all | 272 |
| About his funeral; and you shall speak | |
| In the same pulpit whereto I am going, | |
| After my speech is ended. | |
| Ant. Be it so; | 276 |
| I do desire no more. | |
| Bru. Prepare the body then, and follow us. [Exeunt all but ANTONY. | |
| Ant. O! pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, | |
| That I am meek and gentle with these butchers; | 280 |
| Thou art the ruins of the noblest man | |
| That ever lived in the tide of times. | |
| Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood; | |
| Over thy wounds now do I prophesy, | 284 |
| 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 | 288 |
| 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 | 292 |
| Their infants quarter’d with the hands of war; | |
| All pity chok’d with custom of fell deeds: | |
| And Cæsar’s spirit, ranging for revenge, | |
| With Ate by his side come hot from hell, | 296 |
| 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. | 300 |
| |
Enter a Servant. | |
| You serve Octavius Cæsar, do you not? | |
| Serv. I do, Mark Antony. | |
| Ant. Cæsar did write for him to come to Rome. | 304 |
| Serv. He did receive his letters, and is coming; | |
| And bid me say to you by word of mouth— [Seeing the body. | |
| O Cæsar!— | |
| Ant. Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. | 308 |
| Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, | |
| Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, | |
| Began to water. Is thy master coming? | |
| Serv. He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. | 312 |
| Ant. Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanc’d: | |
| Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, | |
| No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; | |
| Hie hence and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; | 316 |
| Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corpse | |
| Into the market-place; there shall I try, | |
| In my oration, how the people take | |
| The cruel issue of these bloody men; | 320 |
| According to the which thou shalt discourse | |
| To young Octavius of the state of things. | |
| Lend me your hand. [Exeunt, with CÆSAR’S body. | |
