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Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above. | |
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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. | |
Art. Hail, Cæsar! Read this schedule. | 5 |
Dec. Trebonius doth desire you to oer-read, | |
At your best leisure, this his humble suit. | |
Art. O Cæsar! read mine first; for mines a suit | |
That touches Cæsar nearer. Read it, great Cæsar. | |
Cæs. What touches us ourself shall be last servd. | 10 |
Art. Delay not, Cæsar; read it instantly. | |
Cæs. What! is the fellow mad? | |
Pub. Sirrah, give place. | |
Cæs. What! urge you your petitions in the street? | |
Come to the Capitol. | 15 |
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CÆSAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following. All the Senators rise. | |
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 wishd 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. | |
Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, | 25 |
Cassius or Cæsar never shall turn back, | |
For I will slay myself. | |
Bru. Cassius, be constant: | |
Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; | |
For, look, he smiles, and Cæsar doth not change. | 30 |
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. | |
Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, | |
And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar. | |
Bru. He is addressd; press near and second him. | 35 |
Cin. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. | |
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, | |
And turn pre-ordinance and first decree | 45 |
Into the law of children. Be not fond, | |
To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood | |
That will be thawd from the true quality | |
With that which melteth fools; I mean sweet words, | |
Low-crooked curtsies, and base spaniel fawning. | 50 |
Thy brother by decree is banished: | |
If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, | |
I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. | |
Know, Cæsar doth not wrong, nor without cause | |
Will he be satisfied. | 55 |
Met. Is there no voice more worthy than my own, | |
To sound more sweetly in great Cæsars ear | |
For the repealing of my banishd 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, | |
To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. | 65 |
Cæs. I could be well movd 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-fixd and resting quality | |
There is no fellow in the firmament. | 70 |
The skies are painted with unnumberd sparks, | |
They are all fire and every one doth shine, | |
But theres but one in all doth hold his place: | |
So, in the world; tis furnishd well with men, | |
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; | 75 |
Yet in the number I do know but one | |
That unassailable holds on his rank, | |
Unshakd of motion: and that I am he, | |
Let me a little show it, even in this, | |
That I was constant Cimber should be banishd, | 80 |
And constant do remain to keep him so. | |
Cin. O Cæsar, | |
Cæs. Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus! | |
Dec. Great Cæsar, | |
Cæs. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? | 85 |
Casca. Speak, hands, for me! [They stab Cæsar. | |
Cæs. Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Cæsar! [Dies. | |
Cin. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! | |
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. | |
Cas. Some to the common pulpits, and cry out, | 90 |
Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement! | |
Bru. People and senators be not affrighted; | |
Fly not; stand still; ambitions debt is paid. | |
Casca. Go to the pulpit, Brutus. | |
Dec. And Cassius too. | 95 |
Bru. Wheres Publius? | |
Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. | |
Met. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Cæsars | |
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. | |
Bru. Do so; and let no man abide this deed | 105 |
But we the doers. | |
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Re-enter TREBONIUS. | |
Cas. Wheres Antony? | |
Tre. Fled to his house amazd. | |
Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run | 110 |
As it were doomsday. | |
Bru. Fates, we will know your pleasures. | |
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 | 115 |
Cuts off so many years of fearing death. | |
Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit: | |
So are we Cæsars friends, that have abridgd | |
His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, | |
And let us bathe our hands in Cæsars blood | 120 |
Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: | |
Then walk we forth, even to the market-place; | |
And waving our red weapons oer our heads, | |
Lets all cry, Peace, freedom, and liberty! | |
Cas. Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence | 125 |
Shall this our lofty scene be acted oer, | |
In states unborn and accents yet unknown! | |
Bru. How many times shall Cæsar bleed in sport, | |
That now on Pompeys basis lies along | |
No worthier than the dust! | 130 |
Cas. So oft as that shall be, | |
So often shall the knot of us be calld | |
The men that gave their country liberty. | |
Dec. What! shall we forth? | |
Cas. Ay, every man away: | 135 |
Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels | |
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. | |
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Enter a Servant. | |
Bru. Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antonys. | |
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: | |
Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; | 145 |
Say I feard Cæsar, honourd him, and lovd him. | |
If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony | |
May safely come to him, and be resolvd | |
How Cæsar hath deservd to lie in death, | |
Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar dead | 150 |
So well as Brutus living; but will follow | |
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus | |
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state | |
With all true faith. So says my master Antony. | |
Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; | 155 |
I never thought him worse. | |
Tell him, so please him come unto this place, | |
He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, | |
Depart untouchd. | |
Serv. Ill 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. | |
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Re-enter ANTONY. | 165 |
Bru. But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony. | |
Ant. O mighty Cæsar! 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, | 170 |
Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: | |
If I myself, there is no hour so fit | |
As Cæsars deaths hour, nor no instrument | |
Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich | |
With the most noble blood of all this world. | 175 |
I do beseech ye, if ye bear me hard, | |
Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, | |
Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, | |
I shall not find myself so apt to die: | |
No place will please me so, no mean of death, | 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, | |
As, by our hands and this our present act, | 185 |
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 | 190 |
Hath done this deed on Cæsar. 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. | 195 |
Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as any mans | |
In the disposing of new dignities. | |
Bru. Only be patient till we have appeasd | |
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: | |
First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; | 205 |
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? | 210 |
My credit now stands on such slippery ground, | |
That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, | |
Either a coward or a flatterer. | |
That I did love thee, Cæsar, O! tis true: | |
If then thy spirit look upon us now, | 215 |
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 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 bayd, brave hart; | |
Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, | 225 |
Signd in thy spoil, and crimsond in thy leth | |
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! | 230 |
Cas. Mark Antony, | |
Ant. Pardon me, Caius Cassius: | |
The enemies of Cæsar shall say this; | |
Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. | |
Cas. I blame you not for praising Cæsar so; | 235 |
But what compact mean you to have with us? | |
Will you be prickd in number of our friends, | |
Or shall we on, and not depend on you? | |
Ant. Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed | |
Swayd 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. | |
Our reasons are so full of good regard | 245 |
That were you, Antony, the son of Cæsar, | |
You should be satisfied. | |
Ant. Thats all I seek: | |
And am moreover suitor that I may | |
Produce his body to the market place; | 250 |
And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, | |
Speak in the order of his funeral. | |
Bru. You shall, Mark Antony. | |
Cas. Brutus, a word with you. | |
[Aside to BRUTUS.] You know not what you do; do not consent | 255 |
That Antony speak in his funeral: | |
Know you how much the people may be movd | |
By that which he will utter? | |
Bru. By your pardon; | |
I will myself into the pulpit first, | 260 |
And show the reason of our Cæsars death: | |
What Antony shall speak, I will protest | |
He speaks by leave and by permission, | |
And that we are contented Cæsar shall | |
Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. | 265 |
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 Cæsars body. | |
You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, | |
But speak all good you can devise of Cæsar, | 270 |
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. | 275 |
Ant. Be it so; | |
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, | |
Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips, | 285 |
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, | 290 |
And dreadful objects so familiar, | |
That mothers shall but smile when they behold | |
Their infants quarterd with the hands of war; | |
All pity chokd with custom of fell deeds: | |
And Cæsars spirit, ranging for revenge, | 295 |
With Ate by his side come hot from hell, | |
Shall in these confines with a monarchs 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 |
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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. | |
Serv. He did receive his letters, and is coming; | 305 |
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. | |
Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, | |
Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, | 310 |
Began to water. Is thy master coming? | |
Serv. He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. | |
Ant. Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chancd: | |
Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, | |
No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; | 315 |
Hie hence and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; | |
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 CÆSARS body. | |
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