The Life and Death of Julius Caesar

1Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home:

2Is this a holiday? what! know you not,

3Being mechanical, you ought not walk

4Upon a labouring day without the sign

5Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?

6Why, sir, a carpenter.

7Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?

8What dost thou with thy best apparel on?

9You, sir, what trade are you?

10Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but,

11as you would say, a cobbler.

12But what trade art thou? answer me directly.

13A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe

14conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.

15What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

16Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet,

17if you be out, sir, I can mend you.

18What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow!

19Why, sir, cobble you.

20Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

21Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I

22meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's

23matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon

24to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I

25recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon

26neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork.

27But wherefore art not in thy shop today?

28Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

29Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself

30into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday,

31to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.

32Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?

33What tributaries follow him to Rome,

34To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?

35You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!

36O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,

37Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft

38Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,

39To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,

40Your infants in your arms, and there have sat

41The livelong day, with patient expectation,

42To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:

43And when you saw his chariot but appear,

44Have you not made an universal shout,

45That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,

46To hear the replication of your sounds

47Made in her concave shores?

48And do you now put on your best attire?

49And do you now cull out a holiday?

50And do you now strew flowers in his way

51That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone!

52Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,

53Pray to the gods to intermit the plague

54That needs must light on this ingratitude.

55Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,

56Assemble all the poor men of your sort;

57Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears

58Into the channel, till the lowest stream

59Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

60See whether their basest metal be not moved;

61They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.

62Go you down that way towards the Capitol;

63disrobe the images,

64If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.

65May we do so?

66You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

67It is no matter; let no images

68Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,

69And drive away the vulgar from the streets:

70So do you too, where you perceive them thick.

71These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing

72Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,

73Who else would soar above the view of men

74And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

1Calpurnia!

2Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.

3Calpurnia!

4Here, my lord.

5Stand you directly in Antonius' way,

6When he doth run his course. Antonius!

7Caesar, my lord?

8Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,

9To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say,

10The barren, touched in this holy chase,

11Shake off their sterile curse.

12I shall remember:

13When Caesar says 'do this,' it is perform'd.

14Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

15Caesar!

16Ha! who calls?

17Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!

18Who is it in the press that calls on me?

19I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

20Cry 'Caesar!' Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear.

21Beware the ides of March.

22What man is that?

23A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

24Set him before me; let me see his face.

25Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.

26What say'st thou to me now? speak once again.

27Beware the ides of March.

28He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.

29Will you go see the order of the course?

30Not I.

31I pray you, do.

32I am not gamesome: I do lack some part

33Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

34Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;

35I'll leave you.

36Brutus, I do observe you now of late:

37I have not from your eyes that gentleness

38And show of love as I was wont to have:

39You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand

40Over your friend that loves you.

41Cassius,

42Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look,

43I turn the trouble of my countenance

44Merely upon myself. Vexed I am

45Of late with passions of some difference,

46Conceptions only proper to myself,

47Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors;

48But let not therefore my good friends be grieved--

49Among which number, Cassius, be you one--

50Nor construe any further my neglect,

51Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,

52Forgets the shows of love to other men.

53Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;

54By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

55Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

56Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

57No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself,

58But by reflection, by some other things.

59'Tis just:

60And it is very much lamented, Brutus,

61That you have no such mirrors as will turn

62Your hidden worthiness into your eye,

63That you might see your shadow. I have heard,

64Where many of the best respect in Rome,

65Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus

66And groaning underneath this age's yoke,

67Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

68Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,

69That you would have me seek into myself

70For that which is not in me?

71Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear:

72And since you know you cannot see yourself

73So well as by reflection, I, your glass,

74Will modestly discover to yourself

75That of yourself which you yet know not of.

76And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:

77Were I a common laugher, or did use

78To stale with ordinary oaths my love

79To every new protester; if you know

80That I do fawn on men and hug them hard

81And after scandal them, or if you know

82That I profess myself in banqueting

83To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

84What means this shouting? I do fear, the people

85Choose Caesar for their king.

86Ay, do you fear it?

87Then must I think you would not have it so.

88I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.

89But wherefore do you hold me here so long?

90What is it that you would impart to me?

91If it be aught toward the general good,

92Set honour in one eye and death i' the other,

93And I will look on both indifferently,

94For let the gods so speed me as I love

95The name of honour more than I fear death.

96I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,

97As well as I do know your outward favour.

98Well, honour is the subject of my story.

99I cannot tell what you and other men

100Think of this life; but, for my single self,

101I had as lief not be as live to be

102In awe of such a thing as I myself.

103I was born free as Caesar; so were you:

104We both have fed as well, and we can both

105Endure the winter's cold as well as he:

106For once, upon a raw and gusty day,

107The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,

108Caesar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now

109Leap in with me into this angry flood,

110And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word,

111Accoutred as I was, I plunged in

112And bade him follow; so indeed he did.

113The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it

114With lusty sinews, throwing it aside

115And stemming it with hearts of controversy;

116But ere we could arrive the point proposed,

117Caesar cried 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!'

118I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor,

119Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder

120The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber

121Did I the tired Caesar. And this man

122Is now become a god, and Cassius is

123A wretched creature and must bend his body,

124If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.

125He had a fever when he was in Spain,

126And when the fit was on him, I did mark

127How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake;

128His coward lips did from their colour fly,

129And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world

130Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan:

131Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans

132Mark him and write his speeches in their books,

133Alas, it cried 'Give me some drink, Titinius,'

134As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me

135A man of such a feeble temper should

136So get the start of the majestic world

137And bear the palm alone.

138Another general shout!

139I do believe that these applauses are

140For some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar.

141Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world

142Like a Colossus, and we petty men

143Walk under his huge legs and peep about

144To find ourselves dishonourable graves.

145Men at some time are masters of their fates:

146The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

147But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

148Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'?

149Why should that name be sounded more than yours?

150Write them together, yours is as fair a name;

151Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;

152Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,

153Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.

154Now, in the names of all the gods at once,

155Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,

156That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!

157Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!

158When went there by an age, since the great flood,

159But it was famed with more than with one man?

160When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome,

161That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?

162Now is it Rome indeed and room enough,

163When there is in it but one only man.

164O, you and I have heard our fathers say,

165There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd

166The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome

167As easily as a king.

168That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;

169What you would work me to, I have some aim:

170How I have thought of this and of these times,

171I shall recount hereafter; for this present,

172I would not, so with love I might entreat you,

173Be any further moved. What you have said

174I will consider; what you have to say

175I will with patience hear, and find a time

176Both meet to hear and answer such high things.

177Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this:

178Brutus had rather be a villager

179Than to repute himself a son of Rome

180Under these hard conditions as this time

181Is like to lay upon us.

182I am glad that my weak words

183Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.

184The games are done and Caesar is returning.

185As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve;

186And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you

187What hath proceeded worthy note to-day.

188I will do so. But, look you, Cassius,

189The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,

190And all the rest look like a chidden train:

191Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero

192Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes

193As we have seen him in the Capitol,

194Being cross'd in conference by some senators.

195Casca will tell us what the matter is.

196Antonius!

197Caesar?

198Let me have men about me that are fat;

199Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights:

200Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;

201He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.

202Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous;

203He is a noble Roman and well given.

204Would he were fatter! But I fear him not:

205Yet if my name were liable to fear,

206I do not know the man I should avoid

207So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;

208He is a great observer and he looks

209Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,

210As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music;

211Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort

212As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit

213That could be moved to smile at any thing.

214Such men as he be never at heart's ease

215Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,

216And therefore are they very dangerous.

217I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd

218Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar.

219Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,

220And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.

221You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?

222Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day,

223That Caesar looks so sad.

224Why, you were with him, were you not?

225I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.

226Why, there was a crown offered him: and being

227offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand,

228thus; and then the people fell a-shouting.

229What was the second noise for?

230Why, for that too.

231They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?

232Why, for that too.

233Was the crown offered him thrice?

234Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every

235time gentler than other, and at every putting-by

236mine honest neighbours shouted.

237Who offered him the crown?

238Why, Antony.

239Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.

240I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it:

241it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark

242Antony offer him a crown;--yet 'twas not a crown

243neither, 'twas one of these coronets;--and, as I told

244you, he put it by once: but, for all that, to my

245thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he

246offered it to him again; then he put it by again:

247but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his

248fingers off it. And then he offered it the third

249time; he put it the third time by: and still as he

250refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their

251chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps

252and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because

253Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked

254Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and

255for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of

256opening my lips and receiving the bad air.

257But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound?

258He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at

259mouth, and was speechless.

260'Tis very like: he hath the failing sickness.

261No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I,

262And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness.

263I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure,

264Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not

265clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and

266displeased them, as they use to do the players in

267the theatre, I am no true man.

268What said he when he came unto himself?

269Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the

270common herd was glad he refused the crown, he

271plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his

272throat to cut. An I had been a man of any

273occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word,

274I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so

275he fell. When he came to himself again, he said,

276If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired

277their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three

278or four wenches, where I stood, cried 'Alas, good

279soul!' and forgave him with all their hearts: but

280there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had

281stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.

282And after that, he came, thus sad, away?

283Ay.

284Did Cicero say any thing?

285Ay, he spoke Greek.

286To what effect?

287Nay, an I tell you that, Ill ne'er look you i' the

288face again: but those that understood him smiled at

289one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own

290part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more

291news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs

292off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you

293well. There was more foolery yet, if I could

294remember it.

295Will you sup with me to-night, Casca?

296No, I am promised forth.

297Will you dine with me to-morrow?

298Ay, if I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner

299worth the eating.

300Good: I will expect you.

301Do so. Farewell, both.

302What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!

303He was quick mettle when he went to school.

304So is he now in execution

305Of any bold or noble enterprise,

306However he puts on this tardy form.

307This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,

308Which gives men stomach to digest his words

309With better appetite.

310And so it is. For this time I will leave you:

311To-morrow, if you please to speak with me,

312I will come home to you; or, if you will,

313Come home to me, and I will wait for you.

314I will do so: till then, think of the world.

315Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,

316Thy honourable metal may be wrought

317From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet

318That noble minds keep ever with their likes;

319For who so firm that cannot be seduced?

320Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus:

321If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,

322He should not humour me. I will this night,

323In several hands, in at his windows throw,

324As if they came from several citizens,

325Writings all tending to the great opinion

326That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely

327Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at:

328And after this let Caesar seat him sure;

329For we will shake him, or worse days endure.

1Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home?

2Why are you breathless? and why stare you so?

3Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth

4Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,

5I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds

6Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen

7The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,

8To be exalted with the threatening clouds:

9But never till to-night, never till now,

10Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.

11Either there is a civil strife in heaven,

12Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,

13Incenses them to send destruction.

14Why, saw you any thing more wonderful?

15A common slave--you know him well by sight--

16Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn

17Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand,

18Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.

19Besides--I ha' not since put up my sword--

20Against the Capitol I met a lion,

21Who glared upon me, and went surly by,

22Without annoying me: and there were drawn

23Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,

24Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw

25Men all in fire walk up and down the streets.

26And yesterday the bird of night did sit

27Even at noon-day upon the market-place,

28Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies

29Do so conjointly meet, let not men say

30'These are their reasons; they are natural;'

31For, I believe, they are portentous things

32Unto the climate that they point upon.

33Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time:

34But men may construe things after their fashion,

35Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.

36Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow?

37He doth; for he did bid Antonius

38Send word to you he would be there to-morrow.

39Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky

40Is not to walk in.

41Farewell, Cicero.

42Who's there?

43A Roman.

44Casca, by your voice.

45Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!

46A very pleasing night to honest men.

47Who ever knew the heavens menace so?

48Those that have known the earth so full of faults.

49For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,

50Submitting me unto the perilous night,

51And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,

52Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone;

53And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open

54The breast of heaven, I did present myself

55Even in the aim and very flash of it.

56But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens?

57It is the part of men to fear and tremble,

58When the most mighty gods by tokens send

59Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.

60You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life

61That should be in a Roman you do want,

62Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze

63And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder,

64To see the strange impatience of the heavens:

65But if you would consider the true cause

66Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,

67Why birds and beasts from quality and kind,

68Why old men fool and children calculate,

69Why all these things change from their ordinance

70Their natures and preformed faculties

71To monstrous quality,--why, you shall find

72That heaven hath infused them with these spirits,

73To make them instruments of fear and warning

74Unto some monstrous state.

75Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man

76Most like this dreadful night,

77That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars

78As doth the lion in the Capitol,

79A man no mightier than thyself or me

80In personal action, yet prodigious grown

81And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.

82'Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?

83Let it be who it is: for Romans now

84Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors;

85But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead,

86And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits;

87Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.

88Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow

89Mean to establish Caesar as a king;

90And he shall wear his crown by sea and land,

91In every place, save here in Italy.

92I know where I will wear this dagger then;

93Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius:

94Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;

95Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat:

96Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,

97Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,

98Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;

99But life, being weary of these worldly bars,

100Never lacks power to dismiss itself.

101If I know this, know all the world besides,

102That part of tyranny that I do bear

103I can shake off at pleasure.

104So can I:

105So every bondman in his own hand bears

106The power to cancel his captivity.

107And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?

108Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf,

109But that he sees the Romans are but sheep:

110He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.

111Those that with haste will make a mighty fire

112Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome,

113What rubbish and what offal, when it serves

114For the base matter to illuminate

115So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief,

116Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this

117Before a willing bondman; then I know

118My answer must be made. But I am arm'd,

119And dangers are to me indifferent.

120You speak to Casca, and to such a man

121That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand:

122Be factious for redress of all these griefs,

123And I will set this foot of mine as far

124As who goes farthest.

125There's a bargain made.

126Now know you, Casca, I have moved already

127Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans

128To undergo with me an enterprise

129Of honourable-dangerous consequence;

130And I do know, by this, they stay for me

131In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night,

132There is no stir or walking in the streets;

133And the complexion of the element

134In favour's like the work we have in hand,

135Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.

136Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.

137'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait;

138He is a friend.

139Cinna, where haste you so?

140To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber?

141No, it is Casca; one incorporate

142To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?

143I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this!

144There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.

145Am I not stay'd for? tell me.

146Yes, you are.

147O Cassius, if you could

148But win the noble Brutus to our party--

149Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper,

150And look you lay it in the praetor's chair,

151Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this

152In at his window; set this up with wax

153Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done,

154Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us.

155Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?

156All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone

157To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,

158And so bestow these papers as you bade me.

159That done, repair to Pompey's theatre.

160Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day

161See Brutus at his house: three parts of him

162Is ours already, and the man entire

163Upon the next encounter yields him ours.

164O, he sits high in all the people's hearts:

165And that which would appear offence in us,

166His countenance, like richest alchemy,

167Will change to virtue and to worthiness.

168Him and his worth and our great need of him

169You have right well conceited. Let us go,

170For it is after midnight; and ere day

171We will awake him and be sure of him.

1What, Lucius, ho!

2I cannot, by the progress of the stars,

3Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say!

4I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.

5When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius!

6Call'd you, my lord?

7Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:

8When it is lighted, come and call me here.

9I will, my lord.

10It must be by his death: and for my part,

11I know no personal cause to spurn at him,

12But for the general. He would be crown'd:

13How that might change his nature, there's the question.

14It is the bright day that brings forth the adder;

15And that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;--

16And then, I grant, we put a sting in him,

17That at his will he may do danger with.

18The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins

19Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar,

20I have not known when his affections sway'd

21More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof,

22That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,

23Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;

24But when he once attains the upmost round.

25He then unto the ladder turns his back,

26Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees

27By which he did ascend. So Caesar may.

28Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel

29Will bear no colour for the thing he is,

30Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,

31Would run to these and these extremities:

32And therefore think him as a serpent's egg

33Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous,

34And kill him in the shell.

35The taper burneth in your closet, sir.

36Searching the window for a flint, I found

37This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure,

38It did not lie there when I went to bed.

39Get you to bed again; it is not day.

40Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?

41I know not, sir.

42Look in the calendar, and bring me word.

43I will, sir.

44The exhalations whizzing in the air

45Give so much light that I may read by them.

46'Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself.

47Shall Rome, & c. Speak, strike, redress!

48Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!'

49Such instigations have been often dropp'd

50Where I have took them up.

51'Shall Rome, & c.' Thus must I piece it out:

52Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome?

53My ancestors did from the streets of Rome

54The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king.

55'Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated

56To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise:

57If the redress will follow, thou receivest

58Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!

59Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.

60'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks.

61Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,

62I have not slept.

63Between the acting of a dreadful thing

64And the first motion, all the interim is

65Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:

66The Genius and the mortal instruments

67Are then in council; and the state of man,

68Like to a little kingdom, suffers then

69The nature of an insurrection.

70Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,

71Who doth desire to see you.

72Is he alone?

73No, sir, there are moe with him.

74Do you know them?

75No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears,

76And half their faces buried in their cloaks,

77That by no means I may discover them

78By any mark of favour.

79Let 'em enter.

80They are the faction. O conspiracy,

81Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,

82When evils are most free? O, then by day

83Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough

84To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy;

85Hide it in smiles and affability:

86For if thou path, thy native semblance on,

87Not Erebus itself were dim enough

88To hide thee from prevention.

89I think we are too bold upon your rest:

90Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?

91I have been up this hour, awake all night.

92Know I these men that come along with you?

93Yes, every man of them, and no man here

94But honours you; and every one doth wish

95You had but that opinion of yourself

96Which every noble Roman bears of you.

97This is Trebonius.

98He is welcome hither.

99This, Decius Brutus.

100He is welcome too.

101This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.

102They are all welcome.

103What watchful cares do interpose themselves

104Betwixt your eyes and night?

105Shall I entreat a word?

106Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?

107No.

108O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines

109That fret the clouds are messengers of day.

110You shall confess that you are both deceived.

111Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises,

112Which is a great way growing on the south,

113Weighing the youthful season of the year.

114Some two months hence up higher toward the north

115He first presents his fire; and the high east

116Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.

117Give me your hands all over, one by one.

118And let us swear our resolution.

119No, not an oath: if not the face of men,

120The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,--

121If these be motives weak, break off betimes,

122And every man hence to his idle bed;

123So let high-sighted tyranny range on,

124Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,

125As I am sure they do, bear fire enough

126To kindle cowards and to steel with valour

127The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen,

128What need we any spur but our own cause,

129To prick us to redress? what other bond

130Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word,

131And will not palter? and what other oath

132Than honesty to honesty engaged,

133That this shall be, or we will fall for it?

134Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous,

135Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls

136That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear

137Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain

138The even virtue of our enterprise,

139Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits,

140To think that or our cause or our performance

141Did need an oath; when every drop of blood

142That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,

143Is guilty of a several bastardy,

144If he do break the smallest particle

145Of any promise that hath pass'd from him.

146But what of Cicero? shall we sound him?

147I think he will stand very strong with us.

148Let us not leave him out.

149No, by no means.

150O, let us have him, for his silver hairs

151Will purchase us a good opinion

152And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:

153It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands;

154Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,

155But all be buried in his gravity.

156O, name him not: let us not break with him;

157For he will never follow any thing

158That other men begin.

159Then leave him out.

160Indeed he is not fit.

161Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar?

162Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet,

163Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar,

164Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him

165A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means,

166If he improve them, may well stretch so far

167As to annoy us all: which to prevent,

168Let Antony and Caesar fall together.

169Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,

170To cut the head off and then hack the limbs,

171Like wrath in death and envy afterwards;

172For Antony is but a limb of Caesar:

173Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.

174We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar;

175And in the spirit of men there is no blood:

176O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit,

177And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,

178Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,

179Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;

180Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,

181Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds:

182And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,

183Stir up their servants to an act of rage,

184And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make

185Our purpose necessary and not envious:

186Which so appearing to the common eyes,

187We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers.

188And for Mark Antony, think not of him;

189For he can do no more than Caesar's arm

190When Caesar's head is off.

191Yet I fear him;

192For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar--

193Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:

194If he love Caesar, all that he can do

195Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar:

196And that were much he should; for he is given

197To sports, to wildness and much company.

198There is no fear in him; let him not die;

199For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

200Peace! count the clock.

201The clock hath stricken three.

202'Tis time to part.

203But it is doubtful yet,

204Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no;

205For he is superstitious grown of late,

206Quite from the main opinion he held once

207Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies:

208It may be, these apparent prodigies,

209The unaccustom'd terror of this night,

210And the persuasion of his augurers,

211May hold him from the Capitol to-day.

212Never fear that: if he be so resolved,

213I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear

214That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,

215And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,

216Lions with toils and men with flatterers;

217But when I tell him he hates flatterers,

218He says he does, being then most flattered.

219Let me work;

220For I can give his humour the true bent,

221And I will bring him to the Capitol.

222Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.

223By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost?

224Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.

225Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard,

226Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey:

227I wonder none of you have thought of him.

228Now, good Metellus, go along by him:

229He loves me well, and I have given him reasons;

230Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

231The morning comes upon 's: we'll leave you, Brutus.

232And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember

233What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.

234Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;

235Let not our looks put on our purposes,

236But bear it as our Roman actors do,

237With untired spirits and formal constancy:

238And so good morrow to you every one.

239Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter;

240Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber:

241Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,

242Which busy care draws in the brains of men;

243Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

244Brutus, my lord!

245Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now?

246It is not for your health thus to commit

247Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.

248Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus,

249Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper,

250You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,

251Musing and sighing, with your arms across,

252And when I ask'd you what the matter was,

253You stared upon me with ungentle looks;

254I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head,

255And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot;

256Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,

257But, with an angry wafture of your hand,

258Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did;

259Fearing to strengthen that impatience

260Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal

261Hoping it was but an effect of humour,

262Which sometime hath his hour with every man.

263It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,

264And could it work so much upon your shape

265As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,

266I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,

267Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.

268I am not well in health, and that is all.

269Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health,

270He would embrace the means to come by it.

271Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.

272Is Brutus sick? and is it physical

273To walk unbraced and suck up the humours

274Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,

275And will he steal out of his wholesome bed,

276To dare the vile contagion of the night

277And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air

278To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus;

279You have some sick offence within your mind,

280Which, by the right and virtue of my place,

281I ought to know of: and, upon my knees,

282I charm you, by my once-commended beauty,

283By all your vows of love and that great vow

284Which did incorporate and make us one,

285That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,

286Why you are heavy, and what men to-night

287Have had to resort to you: for here have been

288Some six or seven, who did hide their faces

289Even from darkness.

290Kneel not, gentle Portia.

291I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.

292Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,

293Is it excepted I should know no secrets

294That appertain to you? Am I yourself

295But, as it were, in sort or limitation,

296To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,

297And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs

298Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,

299Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.

300You are my true and honourable wife,

301As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

302That visit my sad heart

303If this were true, then should I know this secret.

304I grant I am a woman; but withal

305A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife:

306I grant I am a woman; but withal

307A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter.

308Think you I am no stronger than my sex,

309Being so father'd and so husbanded?

310Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em:

311I have made strong proof of my constancy,

312Giving myself a voluntary wound

313Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience.

314And not my husband's secrets?

315O ye gods,

316Render me worthy of this noble wife!

317Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile;

318And by and by thy bosom shall partake

319The secrets of my heart.

320All my engagements I will construe to thee,

321All the charactery of my sad brows:

322Leave me with haste.

323Lucius, who's that knocks?

324He is a sick man that would speak with you.

325Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.

326Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how?

327Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.

328O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,

329To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!

330I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand

331Any exploit worthy the name of honour.

332Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,

333Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.

334By all the gods that Romans bow before,

335I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome!

336Brave son, derived from honourable loins!

337Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up

338My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,

339And I will strive with things impossible;

340Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?

341A piece of work that will make sick men whole.

342But are not some whole that we must make sick?

343That must we also. What it is, my Caius,

344I shall unfold to thee, as we are going

345To whom it must be done.

346Set on your foot,

347And with a heart new-fired I follow you,

348To do I know not what: but it sufficeth

349That Brutus leads me on.

350Follow me, then.

1Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night:

2Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out,

3'Help, ho! they murder Caesar!' Who's within?

4My lord?

5Go bid the priests do present sacrifice

6And bring me their opinions of success.

7I will, my lord.

8What mean you, Caesar? think you to walk forth?

9You shall not stir out of your house to-day.

10Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me

11Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see

12The face of Caesar, they are vanished.

13Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies,

14Yet now they fright me. There is one within,

15Besides the things that we have heard and seen,

16Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.

17A lioness hath whelped in the streets;

18And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead;

19Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds,

20In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,

21Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol;

22The noise of battle hurtled in the air,

23Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan,

24And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets.

25O Caesar! these things are beyond all use,

26And I do fear them.

27What can be avoided

28Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?

29Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions

30Are to the world in general as to Caesar.

31When beggars die, there are no comets seen;

32The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

33Cowards die many times before their deaths;

34The valiant never taste of death but once.

35Of all the wonders that I yet have heard.

36It seems to me most strange that men should fear;

37Seeing that death, a necessary end,

38Will come when it will come.

39What say the augurers?

40They would not have you to stir forth to-day.

41Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,

42They could not find a heart within the beast.

43The gods do this in shame of cowardice:

44Caesar should be a beast without a heart,

45If he should stay at home to-day for fear.

46No, Caesar shall not: danger knows full well

47That Caesar is more dangerous than he:

48We are two lions litter'd in one day,

49And I the elder and more terrible:

50And Caesar shall go forth.

51Alas, my lord,

52Your wisdom is consumed in confidence.

53Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear

54That keeps you in the house, and not your own.

55We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house:

56And he shall say you are not well to-day:

57Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this.

58Mark Antony shall say I am not well,

59And, for thy humour, I will stay at home.

60Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.

61Caesar, all hail! good morrow, worthy Caesar:

62I come to fetch you to the senate-house.

63And you are come in very happy time,

64To bear my greeting to the senators

65And tell them that I will not come to-day:

66Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser:

67I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius.

68Say he is sick.

69Shall Caesar send a lie?

70Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far,

71To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth?

72Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.

73Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,

74Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so.

75The cause is in my will: I will not come;

76That is enough to satisfy the senate.

77But for your private satisfaction,

78Because I love you, I will let you know:

79Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home:

80She dreamt to-night she saw my statua,

81Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts,

82Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans

83Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it:

84And these does she apply for warnings, and portents,

85And evils imminent; and on her knee

86Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day.

87This dream is all amiss interpreted;

88It was a vision fair and fortunate:

89Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,

90In which so many smiling Romans bathed,

91Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck

92Reviving blood, and that great men shall press

93For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance.

94This by Calpurnia's dream is signified.

95And this way have you well expounded it.

96I have, when you have heard what I can say:

97And know it now: the senate have concluded

98To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar.

99If you shall send them word you will not come,

100Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock

101Apt to be render'd, for some one to say

102'Break up the senate till another time,

103When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.'

104If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper

105'Lo, Caesar is afraid'?

106Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love

107To our proceeding bids me tell you this;

108And reason to my love is liable.

109How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia!

110I am ashamed I did yield to them.

111Give me my robe, for I will go.

112And look where Publius is come to fetch me.

113Good morrow, Caesar.

114Welcome, Publius.

115What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too?

116Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,

117Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy

118As that same ague which hath made you lean.

119What is 't o'clock?

120Caesar, 'tis strucken eight.

121I thank you for your pains and courtesy.

122See! Antony, that revels long o' nights,

123Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.

124So to most noble Caesar.

125Bid them prepare within:

126I am to blame to be thus waited for.

127Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius!

128I have an hour's talk in store for you;

129Remember that you call on me to-day:

130Be near me, that I may remember you.

131Caesar, I will:

132and so near will I be,

133That your best friends shall wish I had been further.

134Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me;

135And we, like friends, will straightway go together.

136[Aside] That every like is not the same, O Caesar,

137The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon!

1'Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius;

2come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna, trust not

3Trebonius: mark well Metellus Cimber: Decius Brutus

4loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius.

5There is but one mind in all these men, and it is

6bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal,

7look about you: security gives way to conspiracy.

8The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover,

9'ARTEMIDORUS.'

10Here will I stand till Caesar pass along,

11And as a suitor will I give him this.

12My heart laments that virtue cannot live

13Out of the teeth of emulation.

14If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live;

15If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.

1I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house;

2Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone:

3Why dost thou stay?

4To know my errand, madam.

5I would have had thee there, and here again,

6Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there.

7O constancy, be strong upon my side,

8Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue!

9I have a man's mind, but a woman's might.

10How hard it is for women to keep counsel!

11Art thou here yet?

12Madam, what should I do?

13Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?

14And so return to you, and nothing else?

15Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,

16For he went sickly forth: and take good note

17What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.

18Hark, boy! what noise is that?

19I hear none, madam.

20Prithee, listen well;

21I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,

22And the wind brings it from the Capitol.

23Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

24Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been?

25At mine own house, good lady.

26What is't o'clock?

27About the ninth hour, lady.

28Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?

29Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand,

30To see him pass on to the Capitol.

31Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?

32That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar

33To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,

34I shall beseech him to befriend himself.

35Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him?

36None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance.

37Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow:

38The throng that follows Caesar at the heels,

39Of senators, of praetors, common suitors,

40Will crowd a feeble man almost to death:

41I'll get me to a place more void, and there

42Speak to great Caesar as he comes along.

43I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing

44The heart of woman is! O Brutus,

45The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!

46Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit

47That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint.

48Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;

49Say I am merry: come to me again,

50And bring me word what he doth say to thee.

1[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are come.

2Ay, Caesar; but not gone.

3Hail, Caesar! read this schedule.

4Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread,

5At your best leisure, this his humble suit.

6O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit

7That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar.

8What touches us ourself shall be last served.

9Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly.

10What, is the fellow mad?

11Sirrah, give place.

12What, urge you your petitions in the street?

13Come to the Capitol.

14I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.

15What enterprise, Popilius?

16Fare you well.

17What said Popilius Lena?

18He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive.

19I fear our purpose is discovered.

20Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him.

21Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.

22Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,

23Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back,

24For I will slay myself.

25Cassius, be constant:

26Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;

27For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.

28Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus.

29He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

30Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,

31And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.

32He is address'd: press near and second him.

33Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.

34Are we all ready? What is now amiss

35That Caesar and his senate must redress?

36Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar,

37Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat

38An humble heart,--

39I must prevent thee, Cimber.

40These couchings and these lowly courtesies

41Might fire the blood of ordinary men,

42And turn pre-ordinance and first decree

43Into the law of children. Be not fond,

44To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood

45That will be thaw'd from the true quality

46With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words,

47Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning.

48Thy brother by decree is banished:

49If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him,

50I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.

51Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause

52Will he be satisfied.

53Is there no voice more worthy than my own

54To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear

55For the repealing of my banish'd brother?

56I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar;

57Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may

58Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

59What, Brutus!

60Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon:

61As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,

62To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.

63I could be well moved, if I were as you:

64If I could pray to move, prayers would move me:

65But I am constant as the northern star,

66Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality

67There is no fellow in the firmament.

68The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks,

69They are all fire and every one doth shine,

70But there's but one in all doth hold his place:

71So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men,

72And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive;

73Yet in the number I do know but one

74That unassailable holds on his rank,

75Unshaked of motion: and that I am he,

76Let me a little show it, even in this;

77That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd,

78And constant do remain to keep him so.

79O Caesar,--

80Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?

81Great Caesar,--

82Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?

83Speak, hands for me!

84Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar.

85Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!

86Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.

87Some to the common pulpits, and cry out

88'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!'

89People and senators, be not affrighted;

90Fly not; stand stiff: ambition's debt is paid.

91Go to the pulpit, Brutus.

92And Cassius too.

93Where's Publius?

94Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.

95Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's

96Should chance--

97Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer;

98There is no harm intended to your person,

99Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius.

100And leave us, Publius; lest that the people,

101Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.

102Do so: and let no man abide this deed,

103But we the doers.

104Where is Antony?

105Fled to his house amazed:

106Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run

107As it were doomsday.

108Fates, we will know your pleasures:

109That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time

110And drawing days out, that men stand upon.

111Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life

112Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

113Grant that, and then is death a benefit:

114So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged

115His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,

116And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood

117Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords:

118Then walk we forth, even to the market-place,

119And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads,

120Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!'

121Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence

122Shall this our lofty scene be acted over

123In states unborn and accents yet unknown!

124How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,

125That now on Pompey's basis lies along

126No worthier than the dust!

127So oft as that shall be,

128So often shall the knot of us be call'd

129The men that gave their country liberty.

130What, shall we forth?

131Ay, every man away:

132Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels

133With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.

134Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's.

135Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel:

136Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down;

137And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say:

138Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest;

139Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving:

140Say I love Brutus, and I honour him;

141Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him and loved him.

142If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony

143May safely come to him, and be resolved

144How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death,

145Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead

146So well as Brutus living; but will follow

147The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus

148Thorough the hazards of this untrod state

149With all true faith. So says my master Antony.

150Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;

151I never thought him worse.

152Tell him, so please him come unto this place,

153He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour,

154Depart untouch'd.

155I'll fetch him presently.

156I know that we shall have him well to friend.

157I wish we may: but yet have I a mind

158That fears him much; and my misgiving still

159Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

160But here comes Antony.

161Welcome, Mark Antony.

162O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low?

163Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,

164Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.

165I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,

166Who else must be let blood, who else is rank:

167If I myself, there is no hour so fit

168As Caesar's death hour, nor no instrument

169Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich

170With the most noble blood of all this world.

171I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,

172Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,

173Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,

174I shall not find myself so apt to die:

175No place will please me so, no mean of death,

176As here by Caesar, and by you cut off,

177The choice and master spirits of this age.

178O Antony, beg not your death of us.

179Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,

180As, by our hands and this our present act,

181You see we do, yet see you but our hands

182And this the bleeding business they have done:

183Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful;

184And pity to the general wrong of Rome--

185As fire drives out fire, so pity pity--

186Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,

187To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony:

188Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts

189Of brothers' temper, do receive you in

190With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.

191Your voice shall be as strong as any man's

192In the disposing of new dignities.

193Only be patient till we have appeased

194The multitude, beside themselves with fear,

195And then we will deliver you the cause,

196Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him,

197Have thus proceeded.

198I doubt not of your wisdom.

199Let each man render me his bloody hand:

200First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;

201Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand;

202Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus;

203Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours;

204Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius.

205Gentlemen all,--alas, what shall I say?

206My credit now stands on such slippery ground,

207That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,

208Either a coward or a flatterer.

209That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true:

210If then thy spirit look upon us now,

211Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death,

212To see thy thy Anthony making his peace,

213Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,

214Most noble! in the presence of thy corse?

215Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,

216Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,

217It would become me better than to close

218In terms of friendship with thine enemies.

219Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart;

220Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand,

221Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe.

222O world, thou wast the forest to this hart;

223And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee.

224How like a deer, strucken by many princes,

225Dost thou here lie!

226Mark Antony,--

227Pardon me, Caius Cassius:

228The enemies of Caesar shall say this;

229Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.

230I blame you not for praising Caesar so;

231But what compact mean you to have with us?

232Will you be prick'd in number of our friends;

233Or shall we on, and not depend on you?

234Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed,

235Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar.

236Friends am I with you all and love you all,

237Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons

238Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous.

239Or else were this a savage spectacle:

240Our reasons are so full of good regard

241That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar,

242You should be satisfied.

243That's all I seek:

244And am moreover suitor that I may

245Produce his body to the market-place;

246And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend,

247Speak in the order of his funeral.

248You shall, Mark Antony.

249Brutus, a word with you.

250You know not what you do: do not consent

251That Antony speak in his funeral:

252Know you how much the people may be moved

253By that which he will utter?

254By your pardon;

255I will myself into the pulpit first,

256And show the reason of our Caesar's death:

257What Antony shall speak, I will protest

258He speaks by leave and by permission,

259And that we are contented Caesar shall

260Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies.

261It shall advantage more than do us wrong.

262I know not what may fall; I like it not.

263Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body.

264You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,

265But speak all good you can devise of Caesar,

266And say you do't by our permission;

267Else shall you not have any hand at all

268About his funeral: and you shall speak

269In the same pulpit whereto I am going,

270After my speech is ended.

271Be it so.

272I do desire no more.

273Prepare the body then, and follow us.

274O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,

275That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!

276Thou art the ruins of the noblest man

277That ever lived in the tide of times.

278Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!

279Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,--

280Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips,

281To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue--

282A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;

283Domestic fury and fierce civil strife

284Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;

285Blood and destruction shall be so in use

286And dreadful objects so familiar

287That mothers shall but smile when they behold

288Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;

289All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:

290And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,

291With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

292Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

293Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;

294That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

295With carrion men, groaning for burial.

296You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?

297I do, Mark Antony.

298Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.

299He did receive his letters, and is coming;

300And bid me say to you by word of mouth--

301O Caesar!--

302Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep.

303Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes,

304Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,

305Began to water. Is thy master coming?

306He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome.

307Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced:

308Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,

309No Rome of safety for Octavius yet;

310Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile;

311Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse

312Into the market-place: there shall I try

313In my oration, how the people take

314The cruel issue of these bloody men;

315According to the which, thou shalt discourse

316To young Octavius of the state of things.

317Lend me your hand.

1We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.

2Then follow me, and give me audience, friends.

3Cassius, go you into the other street,

4And part the numbers.

5Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here;

6Those that will follow Cassius, go with him;

7And public reasons shall be rendered

8Of Caesar's death.

9I will hear Brutus speak.

10I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons,

11When severally we hear them rendered.

12The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!

13Be patient till the last.

14Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my

15cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me

16for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that

17you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and

18awake your senses, that you may the better judge.

19If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of

20Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar

21was no less than his. If then that friend demand

22why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer:

23--Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved

24Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and

25die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live

26all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him;

27as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was

28valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I

29slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his

30fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his

31ambition. Who is here so base that would be a

32bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended.

33Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If

34any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so

35vile that will not love his country? If any, speak;

36for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.

37None, Brutus, none.

38Then none have I offended. I have done no more to

39Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of

40his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not

41extenuated, wherein he was worthy, nor his offences

42enforced, for which he suffered death.

43Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who,

44though he had no hand in his death, shall receive

45the benefit of his dying, a place in the

46commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this

47I depart,--that, as I slew my best lover for the

48good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself,

49when it shall please my country to need my death.

50Live, Brutus! live, live!

51Bring him with triumph home unto his house.

52Give him a statue with his ancestors.

53Let him be Caesar.

54Caesar's better parts

55Shall be crown'd in Brutus.

56We'll bring him to his house

57With shouts and clamours.

58My countrymen,--

59Peace, silence! Brutus speaks.

60Peace, ho!

61Good countrymen, let me depart alone,

62And, for my sake, stay here with Antony:

63Do grace to Caesar's corpse, and grace his speech

64Tending to Caesar's glories; which Mark Antony,

65By our permission, is allow'd to make.

66I do entreat you, not a man depart,

67Save I alone, till Antony have spoke.

68Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.

69Let him go up into the public chair;

70We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.

71For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you.

72What does he say of Brutus?

73He says, for Brutus' sake,

74He finds himself beholding to us all.

75'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.

76This Caesar was a tyrant.

77Nay, that's certain:

78We are blest that Rome is rid of him.

79Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.

80You gentle Romans,--

81Peace, ho! let us hear him.

82Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;

83I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.

84The evil that men do lives after them;

85The good is oft interred with their bones;

86So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus

87Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:

88If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

89And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.

90Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest--

91For Brutus is an honourable man;

92So are they all, all honourable men--

93Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.

94He was my friend, faithful and just to me:

95But Brutus says he was ambitious;

96And Brutus is an honourable man.

97He hath brought many captives home to Rome

98Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:

99Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?

100When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:

101Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:

102Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;

103And Brutus is an honourable man.

104You all did see that on the Lupercal

105I thrice presented him a kingly crown,

106Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?

107Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;

108And, sure, he is an honourable man.

109I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,

110But here I am to speak what I do know.

111You all did love him once, not without cause:

112What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?

113O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,

114And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;

115My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,

116And I must pause till it come back to me.

117Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.

118If thou consider rightly of the matter,

119Caesar has had great wrong.

120Has he, masters?

121I fear there will a worse come in his place.

122Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown;

123Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious.

124If it be found so, some will dear abide it.

125Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.

126There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.

127Now mark him, he begins again to speak.

128But yesterday the word of Caesar might

129Have stood against the world; now lies he there.

130And none so poor to do him reverence.

131O masters, if I were disposed to stir

132Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,

133I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,

134Who, you all know, are honourable men:

135I will not do them wrong; I rather choose

136To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,

137Than I will wrong such honourable men.

138But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar;

139I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:

140Let but the commons hear this testament--

141Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read--

142And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds

143And dip their napkins in his sacred blood,

144Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,

145And, dying, mention it within their wills,

146Bequeathing it as a rich legacy

147Unto their issue.

148We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.

149The will, the will! we will hear Caesar's will.

150Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;

151It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.

152You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;

153And, being men, bearing the will of Caesar,

154It will inflame you, it will make you mad:

155'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;

156For, if you should, O, what would come of it!

157Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony;

158You shall read us the will, Caesar's will.

159Will you be patient? will you stay awhile?

160I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it:

161I fear I wrong the honourable men

162Whose daggers have stabb'd Caesar; I do fear it.

163They were traitors: honourable men!

164The will! the testament!

165They were villains, murderers: the will! read the will.

166You will compel me, then, to read the will?

167Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar,

168And let me show you him that made the will.

169Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?

170Come down.

171Descend.

172You shall have leave.

173A ring; stand round.

174Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.

175Room for Antony, most noble Antony.

176Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.

177Stand back; room; bear back.

178If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.

179You all do know this mantle: I remember

180The first time ever Caesar put it on;

181'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,

182That day he overcame the Nervii:

183Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through:

184See what a rent the envious Casca made:

185Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;

186And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,

187Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it,

188As rushing out of doors, to be resolved

189If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;

190For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel:

191Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!

192This was the most unkindest cut of all;

193For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,

194Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,

195Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;

196And, in his mantle muffling up his face,

197Even at the base of Pompey's statua,

198Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.

199O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!

200Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,

201Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.

202O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel

203The dint of pity: these are gracious drops.

204Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold

205Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here,

206Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.

207O piteous spectacle!

208O noble Caesar!

209O woful day!

210O traitors, villains!

211O most bloody sight!

212We will be revenged.

213Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill! Slay!

214Let not a traitor live!

215Stay, countrymen.

216Peace there! hear the noble Antony.

217We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.

218Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up

219To such a sudden flood of mutiny.

220They that have done this deed are honourable:

221What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,

222That made them do it: they are wise and honourable,

223And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.

224I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts:

225I am no orator, as Brutus is;

226But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,

227That love my friend; and that they know full well

228That gave me public leave to speak of him:

229For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,

230Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,

231To stir men's blood: I only speak right on;

232I tell you that which you yourselves do know;

233Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths,

234And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus,

235And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony

236Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue

237In every wound of Caesar that should move

238The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.

239We'll mutiny.

240We'll burn the house of Brutus.

241Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.

242Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.

243Peace, ho! Hear Antony. Most noble Antony!

244Why, friends, you go to do you know not what:

245Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?

246Alas, you know not: I must tell you then:

247You have forgot the will I told you of.

248Most true. The will! Let's stay and hear the will.

249Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal.

250To every Roman citizen he gives,

251To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.

252Most noble Caesar! We'll revenge his death.

253O royal Caesar!

254Hear me with patience.

255Peace, ho!

256Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,

257His private arbours and new-planted orchards,

258On this side Tiber; he hath left them you,

259And to your heirs for ever, common pleasures,

260To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.

261Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?

262Never, never. Come, away, away!

263We'll burn his body in the holy place,

264And with the brands fire the traitors' houses.

265Take up the body.

266Go fetch fire.

267Pluck down benches.

268Pluck down forms, windows, any thing.

269Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,

270Take thou what course thou wilt!

271How now, fellow!

272Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.

273Where is he?

274He and Lepidus are at Caesar's house.

275And thither will I straight to visit him:

276He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,

277And in this mood will give us any thing.

278I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius

279Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.

280Belike they had some notice of the people,

281How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius.

1I dreamt to-night that I did feast with Caesar,

2And things unlucky charge my fantasy:

3I have no will to wander forth of doors,

4Yet something leads me forth.

5What is your name?

6Whither are you going?

7Where do you dwell?

8Are you a married man or a bachelor?

9Answer every man directly.

10Ay, and briefly.

11Ay, and wisely.

12Ay, and truly, you were best.

13What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I

14dwell? Am I a married man or a bachelor? Then, to

15answer every man directly and briefly, wisely and

16truly: wisely I say, I am a bachelor.

17That's as much as to say, they are fools that marry:

18you'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed; directly.

19Directly, I am going to Caesar's funeral.

20As a friend or an enemy?

21As a friend.

22That matter is answered directly.

23For your dwelling,--briefly.

24Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.

25Your name, sir, truly.

26Truly, my name is Cinna.

27Tear him to pieces; he's a conspirator.

28I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.

29Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses.

30I am not Cinna the conspirator.

31It is no matter, his name's Cinna; pluck but his

32name out of his heart, and turn him going.

33Tear him, tear him! Come, brands ho! fire-brands:

34to Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all: some to Decius'

35house, and some to Casca's; some to Ligarius': away, go!

1These many, then, shall die; their names are prick'd.

2Your brother too must die; consent you, Lepidus?

3I do consent--

4Prick him down, Antony.

5Upon condition Publius shall not live,

6Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.

7He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him.

8But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar's house;

9Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine

10How to cut off some charge in legacies.

11What, shall I find you here?

12Or here, or at the Capitol.

13This is a slight unmeritable man,

14Meet to be sent on errands: is it fit,

15The three-fold world divided, he should stand

16One of the three to share it?

17So you thought him;

18And took his voice who should be prick'd to die,

19In our black sentence and proscription.

20Octavius, I have seen more days than you:

21And though we lay these honours on this man,

22To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads,

23He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold,

24To groan and sweat under the business,

25Either led or driven, as we point the way;

26And having brought our treasure where we will,

27Then take we down his load, and turn him off,

28Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears,

29And graze in commons.

30You may do your will;

31But he's a tried and valiant soldier.

32So is my horse, Octavius; and for that

33I do appoint him store of provender:

34It is a creature that I teach to fight,

35To wind, to stop, to run directly on,

36His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit.

37And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so;

38He must be taught and train'd and bid go forth;

39A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds

40On abjects, orts and imitations,

41Which, out of use and staled by other men,

42Begin his fashion: do not talk of him,

43But as a property. And now, Octavius,

44Listen great things:--Brutus and Cassius

45Are levying powers: we must straight make head:

46Therefore let our alliance be combined,

47Our best friends made, our means stretch'd

48And let us presently go sit in council,

49How covert matters may be best disclosed,

50And open perils surest answered.

51Let us do so: for we are at the stake,

52And bay'd about with many enemies;

53And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear,

54Millions of mischiefs.

1Stand, ho!

2Give the word, ho! and stand.

3What now, Lucilius! is Cassius near?

4He is at hand; and Pindarus is come

5To do you salutation from his master.

6He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus,

7In his own change, or by ill officers,

8Hath given me some worthy cause to wish

9Things done, undone: but, if he be at hand,

10I shall be satisfied.

11I do not doubt

12But that my noble master will appear

13Such as he is, full of regard and honour.

14He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius;

15How he received you, let me be resolved.

16With courtesy and with respect enough;

17But not with such familiar instances,

18Nor with such free and friendly conference,

19As he hath used of old.

20Thou hast described

21A hot friend cooling: ever note, Lucilius,

22When love begins to sicken and decay,

23It useth an enforced ceremony.

24There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;

25But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,

26Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;

27But when they should endure the bloody spur,

28They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades,

29Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?

30They mean this night in Sardis to be quarter'd;

31The greater part, the horse in general,

32Are come with Cassius.

33Hark! he is arrived.

34March gently on to meet him.

35Stand, ho!

36Stand, ho! Speak the word along.

37Stand!

38Stand!

39Stand!

40Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.

41Judge me, you gods! wrong I mine enemies?

42And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?

43Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs;

44And when you do them--

45Cassius, be content.

46Speak your griefs softly: I do know you well.

47Before the eyes of both our armies here,

48Which should perceive nothing but love from us,

49Let us not wrangle: bid them move away;

50Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs,

51And I will give you audience.

52Pindarus,

53Bid our commanders lead their charges off

54A little from this ground.

55Lucilius, do you the like; and let no man

56Come to our tent till we have done our conference.

57Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.

1That you have wrong'd me doth appear in this:

2You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella

3For taking bribes here of the Sardians;

4Wherein my letters, praying on his side,

5Because I knew the man, were slighted off.

6You wronged yourself to write in such a case.

7In such a time as this it is not meet

8That every nice offence should bear his comment.

9Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself

10Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;

11To sell and mart your offices for gold

12To undeservers.

13I an itching palm!

14You know that you are Brutus that speak this,

15Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.

16The name of Cassius honours this corruption,

17And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.

18Chastisement!

19Remember March, the ides of March remember:

20Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?

21What villain touch'd his body, that did stab,

22And not for justice? What, shall one of us

23That struck the foremost man of all this world

24But for supporting robbers, shall we now

25Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,

26And sell the mighty space of our large honours

27For so much trash as may be grasped thus?

28I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,

29Than such a Roman.

30Brutus, bay not me;

31I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,

32To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I,

33Older in practise, abler than yourself

34To make conditions.

35Go to; you are not, Cassius.

36I am.

37I say you are not.

38Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;

39Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.

40Away, slight man!

41Is't possible?

42Hear me, for I will speak.

43Must I give way and room to your rash choler?

44Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

45O ye gods, ye gods! must I endure all this?

46All this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break;

47Go show your slaves how choleric you are,

48And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?

49Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch

50Under your testy humour? By the gods

51You shall digest the venom of your spleen,

52Though it do split you; for, from this day forth,

53I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,

54When you are waspish.

55Is it come to this?

56You say you are a better soldier:

57Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,

58And it shall please me well: for mine own part,

59I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

60You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus;

61I said, an elder soldier, not a better:

62Did I say 'better'?

63If you did, I care not.

64When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.

65Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him.

66I durst not!

67No.

68What, durst not tempt him!

69For your life you durst not!

70Do not presume too much upon my love;

71I may do that I shall be sorry for.

72You have done that you should be sorry for.

73There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats,

74For I am arm'd so strong in honesty

75That they pass by me as the idle wind,

76Which I respect not. I did send to you

77For certain sums of gold, which you denied me:

78For I can raise no money by vile means:

79By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,

80And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring

81From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash

82By any indirection: I did send

83To you for gold to pay my legions,

84Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?

85Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?

86When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,

87To lock such rascal counters from his friends,

88Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts;

89Dash him to pieces!

90I denied you not.

91You did.

92I did not: he was but a fool that brought

93My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart:

94A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,

95But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

96I do not, till you practise them on me.

97You love me not.

98I do not like your faults.

99A friendly eye could never see such faults.

100A flatterer's would not, though they do appear

101As huge as high Olympus.

102Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,

103Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,

104For Cassius is aweary of the world;

105Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;

106Cheque'd like a bondman; all his faults observed,

107Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,

108To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep

109My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger,

110And here my naked breast; within, a heart

111Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:

112If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;

113I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart:

114Strike, as thou didst at Caesar; for, I know,

115When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better

116Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.

117Sheathe your dagger:

118Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;

119Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.

120O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb

121That carries anger as the flint bears fire;

122Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,

123And straight is cold again.

124Hath Cassius lived

125To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,

126When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?

127When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.

128Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.

129And my heart too.

130O Brutus!

131What's the matter?

132Have not you love enough to bear with me,

133When that rash humour which my mother gave me