Hence ! home , you idle creatures , get you home :
Is this a holiday ? What ! know you not ,
Being mechanical , you ought not walk 
Upon a labouring day without the sign 
Of your profession ? Speak , what trade art thou ?

Why , sir , a carpenter .

Where is thy leather apron , and thy rule ?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on ?
You , sir , what trade are you ?

Truly , sir , in respect of a fine workman , I am but , as you would say , a cobbler .

But what trade art thou ? Answer me directly .

A trade , sir , that , I hope , I may use with a safe conscience ; which is , indeed , sir , a mender of bad soles .

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

Nay , I beseech you , sir , be not out with me : yet , if you be out , sir , I can mend you .

What meanest thou by that ? Mend me , thou saucy fellow !

Why , sir , cobble you .

Thou art a cobbler , art thou ?

Truly , sir , all that I live by is with the awl : I meddle with no tradesman's matters , nor women's matters , but with awl . I am , indeed , sir , a surgeon to old shoes ; when they are in great danger , I recover them . As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork .

But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day ?
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ?

Truly , sir , to wear out their shoes , to get myself into more work . But , indeed , sir , we make holiday to see C sar and to rejoice in his triumph .

Wherefore rejoice ? What conquest brings he home ?
What tributaries follow him to Rome 
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ?
You blocks , you stones , you worse than senseless things !
O you hard hearts , you cruel men of Rome ,
Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft 
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements ,
To towers and windows , yea , to chimney-tops ,
Your infants in your arms , and there have sat 
The livelong day , with patient expectation ,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome :
And when you saw his chariot but appear ,
Have you not made a universal shout ,
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks ,
To hear the replication of your sounds 
Made in her concave shores ?
And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you now cull out a holiday ?
And do you now strew flowers in his way ,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ?
Be gone !
Run to your houses , fall upon your knees ,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 
That needs must light on this ingratitude .

Go , go , good countrymen , and , for this fault 
Assemble all the poor men of your sort ;
Draw them to Tiber banks , and weep your tears 
Into the channel , till the lowest stream 
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all .

See whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd ;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness .
Go you down that way towards the Capitol ;
This way will I . Disrobe the images 
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies .

May we do so ?
You know it is the feast of Lupercal .

It is no matter ; let no images 
Be hung with C sar's trophies . I'll about 
And drive away the vulgar from the streets :
So do you too where you perceive them thick .
These growing feathers pluck'd from C sar's wing 
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch ,
Who else would soar above the view of men 
And keep us all in servile fearfulness .


Calphurnia !

Peace , ho ! C sar speaks .


Calphurnia !

Here , my lord .

Stand you directly in Antonius' way 
When he doth run his course . Antonius !

C sar , my lord .

Forget not , in your speed , Antonius ,
To touch Calphurnia ; for our elders say ,
The barren , touched in this holy chase ,
Shake off their sterile curse .

I shall remember :
When C sar says 'Do this ,' it is perform'd .

Set on ; and leave no ceremony out .


C sar !

Ha ! Who calls ?

Bid every noise be still : peace yet again !


Who is it in the press that calls on me ?
I hear a tongue , shriller than all the music ,
Cry 'C sar .' Speak ; C sar is turn'd to hear .

Beware the ides of March .

What man is that ?

A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March .

Set him before me ; let me see his face .

Fellow , come from the throng ; look upon C sar .

What sayst thou to me now ? Speak once again .

Beware the ides of March .

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


Will you go see the order of the course ?

Not I .

I pray you , do .

I am not gamesome : I do lack some part 
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony .
Let me not hinder , Cassius , your desires ;
I'll leave you .

Brutus , I do observe you now of late :
I have not from your eyes that gentleness 
And show of love as I was wont to have :
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand 
Over your friend that loves you .

Cassius ,
Be not deceiv'd : if I have veil'd my look ,
I turn the trouble of my countenance 
Merely upon myself . Vexed I am 
Of late with passions of some difference ,
Conceptions only proper to myself ,
Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviours ;
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd ,
Among which number , Cassius , be you one ,
Nor construe any further my neglect ,
Than that poor Brutus , with himself at war ,
Forgets the shows of love to other men .

Then , Brutus , I have much mistook your passion ;
By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried 
Thoughts of great value , worthy cogitations .
Tell me , good Brutus , can you see your face ?

No , Cassius ; for the eye sees not itself ,
But by reflection , by some other things .

'Tis just :
And it is very much lamented , Brutus ,
That you have no such mirrors as will turn 
Your hidden worthiness into your eye ,
That you might see your shadow . I have heard ,
Where many of the best respect in Rome ,
Except immortal C sar ,speaking of Brutus ,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke ,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes .

Into what dangers would you lead me , Cassius ,
That you would have me seek into myself 
For that which is not in me ?

Therefore , good Brutus , be prepar'd to hear ;
And , since you know you cannot see yourself 
So well as by reflection , I , your glass ,
Will modestly discover to yourself 
That of yourself which you yet know not of .
And be not jealous on me , gentle Brutus :
Were I a common laugher , or did use 
To stale with ordinary oaths my love 
To every new protester ; if you know 
That I do fawn on men and hug them hard ,
And after scandal them ; or if you know 
That I profess myself in banqueting 
To all the rout , then hold me dangerous .


What means this shouting ? I do fear the people 
Choose C sar for their king .

Ay , do you fear it ?
Then must I think you would not have it so .

I would not , Cassius ; yet I love him well .
But wherefore do you hold me here so long ?
What is it that you would impart to me ?
If it be aught toward the general good ,
Set honour in one eye and death i' the other ,
And I will look on both indifferently ;
For let the gods so speed me as I love 
The name of honour more than I fear death .

I know that virtue to be in you , Brutus ,
As well as I do know your outward favour .
Well , honour is the subject of my story .
I cannot tell what you and other men 
Think of this life ; but , for my single self ,
I had as lief not be as live to be 
In awe of such a thing as I myself .
I was born free as C sar ; so were you :
We both have fed as well , and we can both 
Endure the winter's cold as well as he :
For once , upon a raw and gusty day ,
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores ,
C sar said to me , 'Dar'st thou , Cassius , now 
Leap in with me into this angry flood ,
And swim to yonder point ?' Upon the word ,
Accoutred as I was , I plunged in 
And bade him follow ; so , indeed he did .
The torrent roar'd , and we did buffet it 
With lusty sinews , throwing it aside 
And stemming it with hearts of controversy ;
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd ,
C sar cried , 'Help me , Cassius , or I sink !' 
I , as  neas , our great ancestor ,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 
The old Anchises bear , so from the waves of Tiber 
Did I the tired C sar . And this man 
Is now become a god , and Cassius is 
A wretched creature and must bend his body 
If C sar carelessly but nod on him .
He had a fever when he was in Spain ,
And when the fit was on him , I did mark 
How he did shake ; 'tis true , this god did shake ;
His coward lips did from their colour fly ,
And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world 
Did lose his lustre ; I did hear him groan ;
Ay , and that tongue of his that bade the Romans 
Mark him and write his speeches in their books ,
Alas ! it cried , 'Give me some drink , Titinius ,' 
As a sick girl . Ye gods , it doth amaze me ,
A man of such a feeble temper should 
So get the start of the majestic world ,
And bear the palm alone .


Another general shout !
I do believe that these applauses are 
For some new honours that are heaped on C sar .

Why , man , he doth bestride the narrow world 
Like a Colossus ; and we petty men 
Walk under his huge legs , and peep about 
To find ourselves dishonourable graves .
Men at some time are masters of their fates :
The fault , dear Brutus , is not in our stars ,
But in ourselves , that we are underlings .
Brutus and C sar : what should be in that 'C sar ?' 
Why should that name be sounded more than yours ?
Write them together , yours is as fair a name ;
Sound them , it doth become the mouth as well ;
Weigh them , it is as heavy ; conjure with 'em ,
'Brutus' will start a spirit as soon as 'C sar .' 
Now , in the names of all the gods at once ,
Upon what meat doth this our C sar feed ,
That he is grown so great ? Age , thou art sham'd !
Rome , thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods !
When went there by an age , since the great flood ,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man ?
When could they say , till now , that talk'd of Rome ,
That her wide walls encompass'd but one man ?
Now is it Rome indeed and room enough ,
When there is in it but one only man .
O ! you and I have heard our fathers say ,
There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd 
Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome 
As easily as a king .

That you do love me , I am nothing jealous ;
What you would work me to , I have some aim :
How I have thought of this and of these times ,
I shall recount hereafter ; for this present ,
I would not , so with love I might entreat you ,
Be any further mov'd . What you have said 
I will consider ; what you have to say 
I will with patience hear , and find a time 
Both meet to hear and answer such high things .
Till then , my noble friend , chew upon this :
Brutus had rather be a villager 
Than to repute himself a son of Rome 
Under these hard conditions as this time 
Is like to lay upon us .

I am glad 
That my weak words have struck but thus much show 
Of fire from Brutus .

The games are done and C sar is returning .

As they pass by , pluck Casca by the sleeve ,
And he will , after his sour fashion , tell you 
What hath proceeded worthy note to-day .


I will do so . But , look you , Cassius ,
The angry spot doth glow on C sar's brow ,
And all the rest look like a chidden train :
Calphurnia's cheek is pale , and Cicero 
Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes 
As we have seen him in the Capitol ,
Being cross'd in conference by some senators .

Casca will tell us what the matter is .

Antonius !

C sar .

Let me have men about me that are fat ;
Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights .
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look ;
He thinks too much : such men are dangerous :

Fear him not , C sar , he's not dangerous ;
He is a noble Roman , and well given .

Would he were fatter ! but I fear him not :
Yet if my name were liable to fear ,
I do not know the man I should avoid 
So soon as that spare Cassius . He reads much ;
He is a great observer , and he looks 
Quite through the deeds of men ; he loves no plays ,
As thou dost , Antony ; he hears no music ;
Seldom he smiles , and smiles in such a sort 
As if he mock'd himself , and scorn'd his spirit 
That could be mov'd to smile at any thing .
Such men as he be never at heart's ease 
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves ,
And therefore are they very dangerous .
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd 
Than what I fear , for always I am C sar .
Come on my right hand , for this ear is deaf ,
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him .


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

Ay , Casca ; tell us what hath chanc'd to-day ,
That C sar looks so sad .

Why , you were with him , were you not ?

I should not then ask Casca what had chanc'd .

Why , there was a crown offered him ; and , being offered him , he put it by with the back of his hand , thus ; and then the people fell a-shouting .

What was the second noise for ?

Why , for that too .

They shouted thrice : what was the last cry for ?

Why , for that too .

Was the crown offered him thrice ?

Ay , marry , was 't , and he put it by thrice , everytime gentler than other ; and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours shouted .

Who offered him the crown ?

Why , Antony .

Tell us the manner of it , gentle Casca .

I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it : it was mere foolery ; I did not mark it . I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown ; yet 'twas not a crown neither , 'twas one of these coronets ; and , as I told you , he put it by once ; but , for all that , to my thinking , he would fain have had it . Then he offered it to him again ; then he put it by again ; but , to my thinking , he was very loath to lay his fingers off it . And then he offered it the third time ; he put it the third time by ; and still as he refused it the rabblement shouted and clapped their chopped hands , and threw up their sweaty night-caps , and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because C sar refused the crown , that it had almost choked C sar ; for he swounded and fell down at it : and for mine own part , I durst not laugh , for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air .

But soft , I pray you : what ! did C sar swound ?

He fell down in the market-place , and foamed at mouth , and was speechless .

'Tis very like : he hath the falling-sickness .

No , C sar hath it not ; but you , and I , And honest Casca , we have the falling-sickness .

I know not what you mean by that ; but I am sure C sar fell down . If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him , according as he pleased and displeased them , as they use to do the players in the theatre , I am no true man .

What said he , when he came unto himself ?

Marry , before he fell down , when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refused the crown , he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut . An I had been a man of any occupation , if I would not have taken him at a word , I would I might go to hell among the rogues . And so he fell . When he came to himself again , he said , if he had done or said any thing amiss , he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity . Three or four wenches , where I stood , cried , 'Alas ! good soul ,' and forgave him with all their hearts : but there's no head to be taken of them ; if C sar had stabbed their mothers , they would have done no less .

And after that he came , thus sad , away ?

Ay .

Did Cicero say any thing ?

Ay , he spoke Greek .

To what effect ?

Nay , an I tell you that , I'll ne'er look you i' the face again ; but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads ; but , for mine own part , it was Greek to me . I could tell you more news too ; Marullus and Flavius , for pulling scarfs off C sar's images , are put to silence . Fare you well . There was more foolery yet , if I could remember it .

Will you sup with me to-night , Casca ?

No , I am promised forth .

Will you dine with me to-morrow ?

Ay , if I be alive , and your mind hold , and your dinner worth the eating .

Good ; I will expect you .

Do so . Farewell , both .


What a blunt fellow is this grown to be !
He was quick mettle when he went to school .

So is he now in execution 
Of any bold or noble enterprise ,
However he puts on this tardy form .
This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit ,
Which gives men stomach to digest his words 
With better appetite .

And so it is . For this time I will leave you :
To-morrow , if you please to speak with me ,
I will come home to you ; or , if you will ,
Come home to me , and I will wait for you .

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

Well , Brutus , thou art noble ; yet , I see ,
Thy honourable metal may be wrought 
From that it is dispos'd : therefore 'tis meet 
That noble minds keep ever with their likes ;
For who so firm that cannot be seduc'd ?
C sar doth bear me hard ; but he loves Brutus :
If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius 
He should not humour me . I will this night ,
In several hands , in at his windows throw ,
As if they came from several citizens ,
Writings all tending to the great opinion 
That Rome holds of his name ; wherein obscurely 
C sar's ambition shall be glanced at :
And after this let C sar seat him sure ;
For we will shake him , or worse days endure .


Good even , Casca : brought you C sar home ?
Why are you breathless ? and why stare you so ?

Are not you mov'd , when all the sway of earth 
Shakes like a thing unfirm ? O Cicero !
I have seen tempests , when the scolding winds 
Have riv'd the knotty oaks ; and I have seen 
The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam ,
To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds :
But never till to-night , never till now ,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire .
Either there is a civil strife in heaven ,
Or else the world , too saucy with the gods ,
Incenses them to send destruction .

Why , saw you any thing more wonderful ?

A common slave you know him well by sight 
Held up his left hand , which did flame and burn 
Like twenty torches join'd ; and yet his hand ,
Not sensible of fire , remain'd unscorch'd .
Besides ,I have not since put up my sword ,
Against the Capitol I met a hon ,
Who glar'd upon me , and went surly by ,
Without annoying me ; and there were drawn 
Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women ,
Transformed with their fear , who swore they saw 
Men all in fire walk up and down the streets .
And yesterday the bird of night did sit ,
Even at noon-day , upon the market-place ,
Hooting and shrieking . When these prodigies 
Do so conjointly meet , let not men say 
'These are their reasons , they are natural ;' 
For , I believe , they are portentous things 
Unto the climate that they point upon .

Indeed , it is a strange-disposed time :
But men may construe things after their fashion ,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves .
Comes C sar to the Capitol to-morrow ?

He doth ; for he did bid Antonius 
Send word to you he would be there to-morrow .

Good-night then , Casca : this disturbed sky 
Is not to walk in .

Farewell , Cicero .

Who's there ?

A Roman .

Casca , by your voice .

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

A very pleasing night to honest men .

Who ever knew the heavens menace so ?

Those that have known the earth so full of faults .
For my part , I have walk'd about the streets ,
Submitting me unto the perilous night ,
And , thus unbraced , Casca , as you see ,
Have bar'd my bosom to the thunder-stone ;
And , when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open 
The breast of heaven , I did present myself 
Even in the aim and very flash of it .

But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens ?
It is the part of men to fear and tremble 
When the most mighty gods by tokens send 
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us .

You are dull , Casca , and those sparks of life 
That should be in a Roman you do want ,
Or else you use not . You look pale , and gaze ,
And put on fear , and cast yourself in wonder ,
To see the strange impatience of the heavens ;
But if you would consider the true cause 
Why all these fires , why all these gliding ghosts ,
Why birds and beasts , from quality and kind ;
Why old men , fools , and children calculate ;
Why all these things change from their ordinance ,
Their natures , and pre-formed faculties ,
To monstrous quality , why , you shall find 
That heaven hath infus'd them with these spirits 
To make them instruments of fear and warning 
Unto some monstrous state .
Now could I , Casca , name to thee a man 
Most like this dreadful night ,
That thunders , lightens , opens graves , and roars 
As doth the lion in the Capitol ,
A man no mightier than thyself or me 
In personal action , yet prodigious grown 
And fearful as these strange eruptions are .

'Tis C sar that you mean ; is it not , Cassius ?

Let it be who it is : for Romans now 
Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors ;
But , woe the while ! our fathers' minds are dead ,
And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits ;
Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish .

Indeed , they say the senators to-morrow 
Mean to establish C sar as a king ;
And he shall wear his crown by sea and land ,
In every place , save here in Italy .

I know where I will wear this dagger then ;
Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius :
Therein , ye gods , you make the weak most strong ;
Therein , ye gods , you tyrants do defeat :
Nor stony tower , nor walls of beaten brass ,
Nor airless dungeon , nor strong links of iron ,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit ;
But life , being weary of those worldly bars ,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself .
If I know this , know all the world besides ,
That part of tyranny that I do bear 
I can shake off at pleasure .


So can I :
So every bondman in his own hand bears 
The power to cancel his captivity .

And why should C sar be a tyrant then ?
Poor man ! I know he would not be a wolf 
But that he sees the Romans are but sheep ;
He were no lion were not Romans hinds .
Those that with haste will make a mighty fire 
Begin it with weak straws ; what trash is Rome ,
What rubbish , and what offal , when it serves 
For the base matter to illuminate 
So vile a thing as C sar ! But , O grief !
Where hast thou led me ? I , perhaps , speak this 
Before a willing bondman ; then I know 
My answer must be made : but I am arm'd ,
And dangers are to me indifferent .

You speak to Casca , and to such a man 
That is no fleering tell-tale . Hold , my hand :
Be factious for redress of all these griefs ,
And I will set this foot of mine as far 
As who goes furthest .

There's a bargain made .
Now know you , Casca , I have mov'd already 
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans 
To undergo with me an enterprise 
Of honourable-dangerous consequence ;
And I do know by this they stay for me 
In Pompey's porch : for now , this fearful night ,
There is no stir , or walking in the streets ;
And the complexion of the element 
In favour's like the work we have in hand ,
Most bloody , fiery , and most terrible .

Stand close awhile , for here comes one in haste .

'Tis Cinna ; I do know him by his gait :
He is a friend .

Cinna , where haste you so ?

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

No , it is Casca ; one incorporate 
To our attempts . Am I not stay'd for , Cinna ?

I am glad on 't . What a fearful night is this !
There's two or three of us have seen strange sights .

Am I not stay'd for ? Tell me .

Yes , you are .
O Cassius ! if you could 
But win the noble Brutus to our party 

Be you content . Good Cinna , take this paper ,
And look you lay it in the pr tor's chair ,
Where Brutus may but find it ; and throw this 
In at his window ; set this up with wax 
Upon old Brutus' statue : all this done ,
Repair to Pompey's porch , where you shall find us .
Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there ?

All but Metellus Cimber ; and he's gone 
To seek you at your house . Well , I will hie ,
And so bestow these papers as you bade me .

That done , repair to Pompey's theatre .

Come , Casca , you and I will yet ere day 
See Brutus at his house : three parts of him 
Is ours already , and the man entire 
Upon the next encounter yields him ours .

O ! he sits high in all the people's hearts :
And that which would appear offence in us ,
His countenance , like richest alchemy ,
Will change to virtue and to worthiness .

Him and his worth and our great need of him 
You have right well conceited . Let us go ,
For it is after midnight ; and ere day 
We will awake him and be sure of him .

What , Lucius ! ho !
I cannot , by the progress of the stars ,
Give guess how near to day . Lucius , I say !
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly .
When , Lucius , when ! Awake , I say ! what , Lucius !


Call'd you , my lord ?

Get me a taper in my study , Lucius :
When it is lighted , come and call me here .

I will , my lord .


It must be by his death : and , for my part ,
I know no personal cause to spurn at him ,
But for the general . He would be crown'd :
How that might change his nature , there's the question :
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder ;
And that craves wary walking . Crown him ?that !
And then , I grant , we put a sting in him ,
That at his will he may do danger with .
The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins 
Remorse from power ; and , to speak truth of C sar ,
I have not known when his affections sway'd 
More than his reason . But 'tis a common proof ,
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder ,
Whereto the climber-upward turns his face ;
But when he once attains the upmost round ,
He then unto the ladder turns his back ,
Looks in the clouds , scorning the base degrees 
By which he did ascend . So C sar may :
Then , lest he may , prevent . And , since the quarrel 
Will bear no colour for the thing he is ,
Fashion it thus ; that what he is , augmented ,
Would run to these and these extremities ;
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg 
Which , hatch'd , would , as his kind , grow mischievous ,
And kill him in the shell .


The taper burneth in your closet , sir .
Searching the window for a flint , I found 
This paper , thus seal'd up ; and I am sure 
It did not lie there when I went to bed .

Get you to bed again ; it is not day .
Is not to-morrow , boy , the ides of March ?

I know not , sir .

Look in the calendar , and bring me word .

I will , sir .


The exhalations whizzing in the air 
Give so much light that I may read by them .

Brutus , thou sleep'st : awake and see thyself .
Shall Rome ,  &c . Speak , strike , redress !
Brutus , thou sleep'st : awake !
Such instigations have been often dropp'd 
Where I have took them up .
'Shall Rome ,  &c .' Thus must I piece it out :
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe ? What , Rome ?
My ancestors did from the streets of Rome 
The Tarquin drive , when he was call'd a king .
'Speak , strike , redress !' Am I entreated 
To speak , and strike ? O Rome ! I make thee promise ;
If the redress will follow , thou receiv'st 
Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus !


Sir , March is wasted fourteen days .


'Tis good . Go to the gate : somebody knocks .

Since Cassius first did whet me against C sar ,
I have not slept .
Between the acting of a dreadful thing 
And the first motion , all the interim is 
Like a phantasma , or a hideous dream :
The genius and the mortal instruments 
Are then in council ; and the state of man ,
Like to a little kingdom , suffers then 
The nature of an insurrection .


Sir , 'tis your brother Cassius at the door ,
Who doth desire to see you .

Is he alone ?

No , sir , there are more with him .

Do you know them ?

No , sir ; their hats are pluck'd about their ears ,
And half their faces buried in their cloaks ,
That by no means I may discover them 
By any mark of favour .

Let 'em enter .

They are the faction . O conspiracy !
Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night ,
When evils are most free ? O ! then by day 
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough 
To mask thy monstrous visage ? Seek none , conspiracy ;
Hide it in smiles and affability :
For if thou path , thy native semblance on ,
Not Erebus itself were dim enough 
To hide thee from prevention .


I think we are too bold upon your rest :
Good morrow , Brutus ; do we trouble you ?

I have been up this hour , awake all night .
Know I these men that come along with you ?

Yes , every man of them ; and no man here 
But honours you ; and every one doth wish 
You had but that opinion of yourself 
Which every noble Roman bears of you .
This is Trebonius .

He is welcome hither .

This , Decius Brutus .

He is welcome too .

This , Casca ; this , Cinna ;
And this , Metellus Cimber .

They are all welcome .
What watchful cares do interpose themselves 
Betwixt your eyes and night ?

Shall I entreat a word ?


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

No .

O ! pardon , sir , it doth ; and yon grey lines 
That fret the clouds are messengers of day .

You shall confess that you are both deceiv'd .
Here , as I point my sword , the sun arises ;
Which is a great way growing on the south ,
Weighing the youthful season of the year .
Some two months hence up higher toward the north 
He first presents his fire ; and the high east 
Stands , as the Capitol , directly here .

Give me your hands all over , one by one .

And let us swear our resolution .

No , not an oath : if not the face of men ,
The sufferance of our souls , the time's abuse ,
If these be motives weak , break off betimes ,
And every man hence to his idle bed ;
So let high-sighted tyranny range on ,
Till each man-drop by lottery . But if these ,
As I am sure they do , bear fire enough 
To kindle cowards and to steel with valour 
The melting spirits of women , then , countrymen ,
What need we any spur but our own cause 
To prick us to redress ? what other bond 
Than secret Romans , that have spoke the word 
And will not palter ? and what other oath 
Than honesty to honesty engag'd ,
That this shall be , or we will fall for it ?
Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous ,
Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls 
That welcome wrongs ; unto bad causes swear 
Such creatures as men doubt ; but do not stain 
The even virtue of our enterprise ,
Nor th' insuppressive mettle of our spirits ,
To think that or our cause or our performance 
Did need an oath ; when every drop of blood 
That every Roman bears , and nobly bears ,
Is guilty of a several bastardy ,
If he do break the smallest particle 
Of any promise that hath pass'd from him .

But what of Cicero ? Shall we sound him ?
I think he will stand very strong with us .

Let us not leave him out .

No , by no means .

O ! let us have him ; for his silver hairs 
Will purchase us a good opinion 
And buy men's voices to commend our deeds :
It shall be said his judgment rul'd our hands ;
Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear ,
But all be buried in his gravity .

O ! name him not : let us not break with him ;
For he will never follow any thing 
That other men begin .

Then leave him out .

Indeed he is not fit .

Shall no man else be touch'd but only C sar ?

Decius , well urg'd . I think it is not meet ,
Mark Antony , so well belov'd of C sar ,
Should outlive C sar : we shall find of him 
A shrewd contriver ; and , you know , his means ,
If he improve them , may well stretch so far 
As to annoy us all ; which to prevent ,
Let Antony and C sar fall together .

Our course will seem too bloody , Caius Cassius ,
To cut the head off and then hack the limbs ,
Like wrath in death and envy afterwards ;
For Antony is but a limb of C sar .
Let us be sacrificers , but not butchers , Caius .
We all stand up against the spirit of C sar ;
And in the spirit of men there is no blood :
O ! then that we could come by C sar's spirit ,
And not dismember C sar . But , alas !
C sar must bleed for it . And , gentle friends ,
Let's kill him boldly , but not wrathfully ;
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods ,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds :
And let our hearts , as subtle masters do ,
Stir up their servants to an act of rage ,
And after seem to chide 'em . This shall make 
Our purpose necessary and not envious ;
Which so appearing to the common eyes ,
We shall be call'd purgers , not murderers .
And , for Mark Antony , think not of him ;
For he can do no more than C sar's arm 
When C sar's head is off .

Yet I fear him ;
For in the engrafted love he bears to C sar 

Alas ! good Cassius , do not think of him :
If he love C sar , all that he can do 
Is to himself , take thought and die for C sar :
And that were much he should ; for he is given 
To sports , to wildness , and much company .

There is no fear in him ; let him not die :
For he will live , and laugh at this hereafter .


Peace ! count the clock .

The clock hath stricken three .

'Tis time to part .

But it is doubtful yet 
Whether C sar will come forth to-day or no ;
For he is superstitious grown of late ,
Quite from the main opinion he held once 
Of fantasy , of dreams , and ceremonies .
It may be , these apparent prodigies ,
The unaccustom'd terror of this night ,
And the persuasion of his augurers ,
May hold him from the Capitol to-day .

Never fear that : if he be so resolv'd ,
I can o'ersway him ; for he loves to hear 
That unicorns may be betray'd with trees ,
And bears with glasses , elephants with holes ,
Lions with toils , and men with flatterers ;
But when I tell him he hates flatterers ,
He says he does , being then most flattered .
Let me work ;
For I can give his humour the true bent ,
And I will bring him to the Capitol .

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

By the eighth hour : is that the uttermost ?

Be that the uttermost , and fail not then .

Caius Ligarius doth bear C sar hard ,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey :
I wonder none of you have thought of him .

Now , good Metellus , go along by him :
He loves me well , and I have given him reasons ;
Send him but hither , and I'll fashion him .

The morning comes upon 's : we'll leave you , Brutus .
And , friends , disperse yourselves ; but all remember 
What you have said , and show yourselves true Romans .

Good gentlemen , look fresh and merrily ;
Let not our looks put on our purposes ,
But bear it as our Roman actors do ,
With untir'd spirits and formal constancy :
And so good morrow to you every one .

Boy ! Lucius ! Fast asleep ? It is no matter ;
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber :
Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies 
Which busy care draws in the brains of men ;
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound .


Brutus , my lord !

Portia , what mean you ? Wherefore rise you now ?
It is not for your health thus to commit 
Your weak condition to the raw cold morning .

Nor for yours neither . You've ungently , Brutus ,
Stole from my bed ; and yesternight at supper 
You suddenly arose , and walk'd about ,
Musing and sighing , with your arms across ,
And when I ask'd you what the matter was ,
You star'd upon me with ungentle looks .
I urg'd you further ; then you scratch'd your head ,
And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot ;
Yet I insisted , yet you answer'd not ,
But , with an angry wafture of your hand .
Gave sign for me to leave you . So I did ,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience 
Which seem'd too much enkindled , and withal 
Hoping it was but an effect of humour ,
Which sometime hath his hour with every man .
It will not let you eat , nor talk , nor sleep ,
And could it work so much upon your shape 
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition ,
I should not know you , Brutus . Dear my lord ,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief .

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

Brutus is wise , and were he not in health ,
He would embrace the means to come by it .

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

Is Brutus sick , and is it physical 
To walk unbraced and suck up the humours 
Of the dank morning ? What ! is Brutus sick ,
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed 
To dare the vile contagion of the night ,
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air 
To add unto his sickness ? No , my Brutus ;
You have some sick offence within your mind ,
Which , by the right and virtue of my place ,
I ought to know of ; and , upon my knees ,
I charm you , by my once-commended beauty ,
By all your vows of love , and that great vow 
Which did incorporate and make us one ,
That you unfold to me , your self , your half ,
Why are you heavy , and what men to-night 
Have had resort to you ; for here have been 
Some six or seven , who did hide their faces 
Even from darkness .

Kneel not , gentle Portia .

I should not need , if you were gentle Brutus .
Within the bond of marriage , tell me , Brutus ,
Is it excepted , I should know no secrets 
That appertain to you ? Am I yourself 
But , as it were , in sort of limitation ,
To keep with you at meals , comfort your bed ,
And talk to you sometimes ? Dwell I but in the suburbs 
Of your good pleasure ? If it be no more ,
Portia is Brutus' harlot , not his wife .

You are my true and honourable wife ,
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops 
That visit my sad heart .

If this were true then should I know this secret .
I grant I am a woman , but , withal ,
A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife ;
I grant I am a woman , but , withal ,
A woman well-reputed , Cato's daughter .
Think you I am no stronger than my sex ,
Being so father'd and so husbanded ?
Tell me your counsels , I will not disclose 'em .
I have made strong proof of my constancy ,
Giving myself a voluntary wound 
Here , in the thigh : can I bear that with patience 
And not my husband's secrets ?

O ye gods !
Render me worthy of this noble wife .

Hark , hark ! one knocks . Portia , go in awhile ;
And by and by thy bosom shall partake 
The secrets of my heart .
All my engagements I will construe to thee ,
All the charactery of my sad brows .
Leave me with haste .

Lucius , who's that knocks ?


Here is a sick man that would speak with you .

Caius Ligarius , that Metellus spoke of .
Boy , stand aside . Caius Ligarius ! how ?

Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue .

O ! what a time have you chose out , brave Caius ,
To wear a kerchief . Would you were not sick .

I am not sick if Brutus have in hand 
Any exploit worthy the name of honour .

Such an exploit have I in hand , Ligarius ,
Had you a healthful ear to hear of it .

By all the gods that Romans bow before 
I here discard my sickness . Soul of Rome !
Brave son , deriv'd from honourable loins !
Thou , like an exorcist , hast conjur'd up 
My mortified spirit . Now bid me run ,
And I will strive with things impossible ;
Yea , get the better of them . What's to do ?

A piece of work that will make sick men whole .

But are not some whole that we must make sick ?

That must we also . What it is , my Caius ,
I shall unfold to thee as we are going 
To whom it must be done .

Set on your foot ,
And with a heart new-fir'd I follow you ,
To do I know not what ; but it sufficeth 
That Brutus leads me on .

Follow me then .


Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night :
Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out ,
'Help , ho ! They murder C sar !' Who's within ?


My lord !

Go bid the priests do present sacrifice ,
And bring me their opinions of success .

I will , my lord .

What mean you , C sar ? Think you to walk forth ?
You shall not stir out of your house to-day .

C sar shall forth : the things that threaten'd me 
Ne'er look'd but on my back ; when they shall see 
The face of C sar , they are vanished .

C sar , I never stood on ceremonies ,
Yet now they fright me . There is one within ,
Besides the things that we have heard and seen ,
Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch .
A lioness hath whelped in the streets ;
And graves have yawn'd and yielded up their dead ;
Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds ,
In ranks and squadrons and right form of war ,
Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol ;
The noise of battle hurtled in the air ,
Horses did neigh , and dying men did groan ,
And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets .
O C sar ! these things are beyond all use ,
And I do fear them .

What can be avoided 
Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods ?
Yet C sar shall go forth ; for these predictions 
Are to the world in general as to C sar .

When beggars die there are no comets seen ;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes .

Cowards die many times before their deaths ;
The valiant never taste of death but once .
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard ,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear ;
Seeing that death , a necessary end ,
Will come when it will come .

What say the augurers ?

They would not have you to stir forth to-day .
Plucking the entrails of an offering forth ,
They could not find a heart within the beast .

The gods do this in shame of cowardice :
C sar should be a beast without a heart 
If he should stay at home to-day for fear .
No , C sar shall not ; danger knows full well 
That C sar is more dangerous than he :
We are two lions litter'd in one day ,
And I the elder and more terrible :
And C sar shall go forth .

Alas ! my lord ,
Your wisdom is consum'd in confidence .
Do not go forth to-day : call it my fear 
That keeps you in the house , and not your own .
We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house ,
And he shall say you are not well to-day :
Let me , upon my knee , prevail in this .

Mark Antony shall say I am not well ;
And , for thy humour , I will stay at home .

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

C sar , all hail ! Good morrow , worthy C sar :
I come to fetch you to the senate-house .

And you are come in very happy time 
To bear my greeting to the senators ,
And tell them that I will not come to-day :
Cannot , is false , and that I dare not , falser ;
I will not come to-day : tell them so , Decius .

Say he is sick .

Shall C sar send a lie ?
Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far 
To be afeard to tell greybeards the truth ?
Decius , go tell them C sar will not come .

Most mighty C sar , let me know some cause ,
Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so .

The cause is in my will : I will not come ;
That is enough to satisfy the senate :
But for your private satisfaction ,
Because I love you , I will let you know :
Calphurnia here , my wife , stays me at home :
She dreamt to-night she saw my statua ,
Which , like a fountain with a hundred spouts ,
Did run pure blood ; and many lusty Romans 
Came smiling , and did bathe their hands in it :
And these does she apply for warnings and portents ,
And evils imminent ; and on her knee 
Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day .

This dream is all amiss interpreted ;
It was a vision fair and fortunate :
Your statue spouting blood in many pipes ,
In which so many smiling Romans bath'd ,
Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck 
Reviving blood , and that great men shall press 
For tinctures , stains , relics , and cognizance .
This by Calphurnia's dream is signified .

And this way have you well expounded it .

I have , when you have heard what I can say :
And know it now : the senate have concluded 
To give this day a crown to mighty C sar .
If you shall send them word you will not come ,
Their minds may change . Besides , it were a mock 
Apt to be render'd , for some one to say 
'Break up the senate till another time ,
When C sar's wife shall meet with better dreams .' 
If C sar hide himself , shall they not whisper 
'Lo ! C sar is afraid ?' 
Pardon me , C sar ; for my dear dear love 
To your proceeding bids me tell you this ,
And reason to my love is liable .

How foolish do your fears seem now , Calphurnia !
I am ashamed I did yield to them .
Give me my robe , for I will go :

And look where Publius is come to fetch me .

Good morrow , C sar .

Welcome , Publius .
What ! Brutus , are you stirr'd so early too ?
Good morrow , Casca . Caius Ligarius ,
C sar was ne'er so much your enemy 
As that same ague which hath made you lean .
What is't o'clock ?

C sar , 'tis strucken eight .

I thank you for your pains and courtesy .


See ! Antony , that revels long o' nights ,

Is notwithstanding up . Good morrow , Antony .

So to most noble C sar .

Bid them prepare within :
I am to blame to be thus waited for .
Now , Cinna ; now , Metellus ; what , Trebonius !
I have an hour's talk in store for you ;
Remember that you call on me to-day :
Be near me , that I may remember you .

C sar , I will :

and so near will I be ,
That your best friends shall wish I had been further .

Good friends , go in , and taste some wine with me ;
And we , like friends , will straightway go together .

That every like is not the same , O C sar !
The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon .


C sar , beware of Brutus ; take heed of Cassius ; come not near Casca ; have an eye to Cinna ; trust not Trebonius ; mark well Metellus Cimber ; Decius Brutus loves thee not ; thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius . There is but one mind in all these men , and it is bent against C sar . If thou be'st not immortal , look about you : security gives way to conspiracy . The mighty gods defend thee ! Thy lover ,
Here will I stand till C sar pass along ,
And as a suitor will I give him this .
My heart laments that virtue cannot live 
Out of the teeth of emulation .
If thou read this , O C sar ! thou mayst live ;
If not , the Fates with traitors do contrive .


I prithee , boy , run to the senate-house ;
Stay not to answer me , but get thee gone .
Why dost thou stay ?

To know my errand , madam .

I would have had thee there , and here again ,
Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there .
O constancy ! be strong upon my side ;
Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue ;
I have a man's mind , but a woman's might .
How hard it is for women to keep counsel !
Art thou here yet ?

Madam , what shall I do ?
Run to the Capitol , and nothing else ?
And so return to you , and nothing else ?

Yes , bring me word , boy , if thy lord look well ,
For he went sickly forth ; and take good note 
What C sar doth , what suitors press to him .
Hark , boy ! what noise is that ?

I hear none , madam .

Prithee , listen well :
I heard a bustling rumour , like a fray ,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol .

Sooth , madam , I hear nothing .


Come hither , fellow : which way hast thou been ?

At mine own house , good lady .

What is 't o'clock ?

About the ninth hour , lady .

Is C sar yet gone to the Capitol ?

Madam , not yet : I go to take my stand ,
To see him pass on to the Capitol .

Thou hast some suit to C sar , hast thou not ?

That I have , lady : if it will please C sar 
To be so good to C sar as to hear me ,
I shall beseech him to befriend himself .

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

None that I know will be , much that I fear may chance .
Good morrow to you . Here the street is narrow :
The throng that follows C sar at the heels ,
Of senators , of pr tors , common suitors ,
Will crowd a feeble man almost to death :
I'll get me to a place more void , and there 
Speak to great C sar as he comes along .


I must go in . Ay me ! how weak a thing 
The heart of woman is . O Brutus !
The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise .
Sure , the boy heard me : Brutus hath a suit 
That C sar will not grant . O ! I grow faint .
Run , Lucius , and commend me to my lord ;
Say I am merry : come to me again ,
And bring me word what he doth say to thee .

The idea of March are come .

Ay , C sar ; but not gone .

Hail , C sar ! Read this schedule .

Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read ,
At your best leisure , this his humble suit .

O C sar ! read mine first ; for mine's a suit 
That touches C sar nearer . Read it , great C sar .

What touches us ourself shall be last serv'd 

Delay not , C sar ; read it instantly .

What ! is the fellow mad ?

Sirrah , give place .

What ! urge you your petitions in the street ?
Come to the Capitol .


I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive .

What enterprise , Popilius ?

Fare you well .


What said Popilius Lena ?

He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive .
I fear our purpose is discovered .

Look , how he makes to C sar : mark him .

Casca , be sudden , for we fear prevention .
Brutus , what shall be done ? If this be known ,
Cassius or C sar never shall turn back ,
For I will slay myself .

Cassius , be constant :
Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes ;
For , look , he smiles , and C sar doth not change .

Trebonius knows his time ; for , look you , Brutus ,
He draws Mark Antony out of the way .


Where is Metellus Cimber ? Let him go ,
And presently prefer his suit to C sar .

He is address'd ; press near and second him .

Casca , you are the first that rears your hand .

Are we all ready ? What is now amiss ,
That C sar and his senate must redress ?

Most high , most mighty , and most puissant C sar ,
Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat 
A humble heart ,


I must prevent thee , Cimber .
These couchings and these lowly courtesies ,
Might fire the blood of ordinary men ,
And turn pre-ordinance and first decree 
Into the law of children . Be not fond ,
To think that C sar bears such rebel blood 
That will be thaw'd from the true quality 
With that which melteth fools ; I mean sweet words ,
Low-crooked curtsies , and base spaniel fawning .
Thy brother by decree is banished :
If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him ,
I spurn thee like a cur out of my way .
Know , C sar doth not wrong , nor without cause 
Will he be satisfied .

Is there no voice more worthy than my own ,
To sound more sweetly in great C sar's ear 
For the repealing of my banish'd brother ?

I kiss thy hand , but not in flattery , C sar ;
Desiring thee , that Publius Cimber may 
Have an immediate freedom of repeal .

What , Brutus !

Pardon , C sar ; C sar , pardon :
As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall ,
To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber .

I could be well mov'd if I were as you ;
If I could pray to move , prayers would move me ;
But I am constant as the northern star ,
Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality 
There is no fellow in the firmament .
The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks ,
They are all fire and every one doth shine ,
But there's but one in all doth hold his place :
So , in the world ; 'tis furnish'd well with men ,
And men are flesh and blood , and apprehensive ;
Yet in the number I do know but one 
That unassailable holds on his rank ,
Unshak'd of motion : and that I am he ,
Let me a little show it , even in this ,
That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd ,
And constant do remain to keep him so .

O C sar ,

Hence ! Wilt thou lift up Olympus !

Great C sar ,

Doth not Brutus bootless kneel ?

Speak , hands , for me !


Et tu , Brute ? Then fall , C sar !


Liberty ! Freedom ! Tyranny is dead !
Run hence , proclaim , cry it about the streets .

Some to the common pulpits , and cry out ,
'Liberty , freedom , and enfranchisement !' 

People and senators be not affrighted ;
Fly not ; stand still ; ambition's debt is paid .

Go to the pulpit , Brutus .

And Cassius too .

Where's Publius ?

Here , quite confounded with this mutiny .

Stand fast together , lest some friend of C sar's 
Should chance 

Talk not of standing . Publius , good cheer ;
There is no harm intended to your person ,
Nor to no Roman else ; so tell them , Publius .

And leave us , Publius ; lest that the people ,
Rushing on us , should do your age some mischief .

Do so ; and let no man abide this deed 
But we the doers .


Where's Antony ?

Fled to his house amaz'd .
Men , wives and children stare , cry out and run 
As it were doomsday .

Fates , we will know your pleasures .
That we shall die , we know ; 'tis but the time 
And drawing days out , that men stand upon .

Why , he that cuts off twenty years of life 
Cuts off so many years of fearing death .

Grant that , and then is death a benefit :
So are we C sar's friends , that have abridg'd 
His time of fearing death . Stoop , Romans , stoop ,
And let us bathe our hands in C sar's blood 
Up to the elbows , and besmear our swords :
Then walk we forth , even to the market-place ;
And waving our red weapons o'er our heads ,
Let's all cry , 'Peace , freedom , and liberty !' 

Stoop , then , and wash . How many ages hence 
Shall this our lofty scene be acted o'er ,
In states unborn and accents yet unknown !

How many times shall C sar bleed in sport ,
That now on Pompey's basis lies along 
No worthier than the dust !

So oft as that shall be ,
So often shall the knot of us be call'd 
The men that gave their country liberty .

What ! shall we forth ?

Ay , every man away :
Brutus shall lead ; and we will grace his heels 
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome .


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

Thus , Brutus , did my master bid me kneel ;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down ;
And , being prostrate , thus he bade me say :
Brutus is noble , wise , valiant , and honest ;
C sar was mighty , bold , royal , and loving :
Say I love Brutus , and I honour him ;
Say I fear'd C sar , honour'd him , and lov'd him .
If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony 
May safely come to him , and be resolv'd 
How C sar hath deserv'd to lie in death ,
Mark Antony shall not love C sar dead 
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 .

Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman ;
I never thought him worse .
Tell him , so please him come unto this place ,
He shall be satisfied ; and , by my honour ,
Depart untouch'd .

I'll fetch him presently .


I know that we shall have him well to friend .

I wish we may : but yet have I a mind 
That fears him much ; and my misgiving still 
Falls shrewdly to the purpose .


But here comes Antony . Welcome , Mark Antony .

O mighty C sar ! dost thou lie so low ?
Are all thy conquests , glories , triumphs , spoils ,
Shrunk to this little measure ? Fare thee well .
I know not , gentlemen , what you intend ,
Who else must be let blood , who else is rank :
If I myself , there is no hour so fit 
As C sar's death's hour , nor no instrument 
Of half that worth as those your swords , made rich 
With the most noble blood of all this world .
I do beseech ye , if ye bear me hard ,
Now , whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke ,
Fulfil your pleasure . Live a thousand years ,
I shall not find myself so apt to die :
No place will please me so , no mean of death ,
As here by C sar , and by you cut off ,
The choice and master spirits of this age .

O Antony ! beg not your death of us .
Though now we must appear bloody and cruel ,
As , by our hands and this our present act ,
You see we do , yet see you but our hands 
And this the bleeding business they have done :
Our hearts you see not ; they are pitiful ;
And pity to the general wrong of Rome 
As fire drives out fire , so pity pity 
Hath done this deed on C sar . For your part ,
To you our swords have leaden points , Mark Antony ;
Our arms , in strength of malice , and our hearts 
Of brothers' temper , do receive you in 
With all kind love , good thoughts , and reverence .

Your voice shall be as strong as any man's 
In the disposing of new dignities .

Only be patient till we have appeas'd 
The multitude , beside themselves with fear ,
And then we will deliver you the cause 
Why I , that did love C sar when I struck him ,
Have thus proceeded .

I doubt not of your wisdom .
Let each man render me his bloody hand :
First , Marcus Brutus , will I shake with you ;
Next , Caius Cassius , do I take your hand ;
Now , Decius Brutus , yours ; now yours , Metellus ;
Yours , Cinna ; and , my valiant Casca , yours ;
Though last , not least in love , yours , good Trebonius .
Gentlemen all ,alas ! what shall I say ?
My credit now stands on such slippery ground ,
That one of two bad ways you must conceit me ,
Either a coward or a flatterer .
That I did love thee , C sar , O ! 'tis true :
If then thy spirit look upon us now ,
Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death ,
To see thy Antony making his peace ,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes ,
Most noble ! in the presence of thy corse ?
Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds ,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood ,
It would become me better than to close 
In terms of friendship with thine enemies .
Pardon me , Julius ! Here wast thou bay'd , brave hart ;
Here didst thou fall ; and here thy hunters stand ,
Sign'd in thy spoil , and crimson'd in thy leth 
O world ! thou wast the forest to this hart ;
And this , indeed , O world ! the heart of thee .
How like a deer , strucken by many princes ,
Dost thou here lie !

Mark Antony ,

Pardon me , Caius Cassius :
The enemies of C sar shall say this ;
Then , in a friend , it is cold modesty .

I blame you not for praising C sar so ;
But what compact mean you to have with us ?
Will you be prick'd in number of our friends ,
Or shall we on , and not depend on you ?

Therefore I took your hands , but was indeed 
Sway'd from the point by looking down on C sar .
Friends am I with you all , and love you all ,
Upon this hope , that you shall give me reasons 
Why and wherein C sar was dangerous .

Or else were this a savage spectacle .
Our reasons are so full of good regard 
That were you , Antony , the son of C sar ,
You should be satisfied .

That's all I seek :
And am moreover suitor that I may 
Produce his body to the market place ;
And in the pulpit , as becomes a friend ,
Speak in the order of his funeral .

You shall , Mark Antony .

Brutus , a word with you .


You know not what you do ; do not consent 
That Antony speak in his funeral :
Know you how much the people may be mov'd 
By that which he will utter ?

By your pardon ;
I will myself into the pulpit first ,
And show the reason of our C sar's death :
What Antony shall speak , I will protest 
He speaks by leave and by permission ,
And that we are contented C sar shall 
Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies .
It shall advantage more than do us wrong .

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

Mark Antony , here , take you C sar's body .
You shall not in your funeral speech blame us ,
But speak all good you can devise of C sar ,
And say you do 't by our permission ;
Else shall you not have any hand at all 
About his funeral ; and you shall speak 
In the same pulpit whereto I am going ,
After my speech is ended .

Be it so ;
I do desire no more .

Prepare the body then , and follow us .


O ! pardon me , thou bleeding piece of earth ,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers ;
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man 
That ever lived in the tide of times .
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood !
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy ,
Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips ,
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue ,
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men ;
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife 
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy ;
Blood and destruction shall be so in use ,
And dreadful objects so familiar ,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold 
Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war ;
All pity chok'd with custom of fell deeds :
And C sar's spirit , ranging for revenge ,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell ,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice 
Cry 'Havoc !' and let slip the dogs of war ;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth 
With carrion men , groaning for burial .

You serve Octavius C sar , do you not ?

I do , Mark Antony .

C sar did write for him to come to Rome .

He did receive his letters , and is coming ;
And bid me say to you by word of mouth 

O C sar !

Thy heart is big , get thee apart and weep .
Passion , I see , is catching ; for mine eyes ,
Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine ,
Began to water . Is thy master coming ?

He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome .

Post back with speed , and tell him what hath chanc'd :
Hare is a mourning Rome , a dangerous Rome ,
No Rome of safety for Octavius yet ;
Hie hence and tell him so . Yet , stay awhile ;
Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corpse 
Into the market-place ; there shall I try ,
In my oration , how the people take 
The cruel issue of these bloody men ;
According to the which thou shalt discourse 
To young Octavius of the state of things .
Lead me your hand .


We will be satisfied : let us be satisfied .

Then follow me , and give me audience , friends .
Cassius , go you into the other street ,
And part the numbers .
Those that will hear me speak , let 'em stay here ;
Those that will follow Cassius , go with him ;
And public reasons shall be rendered 
Of C sar's death .

I will hear Brutus speak .

I will hear Cassius ; and compare their reasons ,
When severally we hear them rendered .


The noble Brutus is ascended : silence !

Be patient till the last .
Romans , countrymen , and lovers ! hear me for my cause ; and be silent , that you may hear : believe me for mine honour , and have respect to mine honour , that you may believe : censure me in your wisdom , and awake your senses , that you may the better judge . If there be any in this assembly , any dear friend of C sar's , to him I say , that Brutus' love to C sar was no less than his . If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against C sar , this is my answer : Not that I loved C sar less , but that I loved Rome more . Had you rather C sar were living , and die all slaves , than that C sar were dead , to live all free men ? As C sar loved me , I weep for him ; as he was fortunate , I rejoice at it ; as he was valiant , I honour him ; but , as he was ambitious , I slew him . There is tears for his love ; joy for his fortune ; honour for his valour ; and death for his ambition . Who is here so base that would be a bondman ? If any , speak ; for him have I offended . Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman ? If any , speak ; for him have I offended . Who is here so vile that will not love his country ? If any , speak ; for him have I offended . I pause for a reply .

None , Brutus , none .

Then none have I offended . I have done no more to C sar , than you shall do to Brutus . The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol ; his glory not extenuated , wherein he was worthy , nor his offences enforced , for which he suffered death .

Here comes his body , mourned by Mark Antony : who , though he had no hand in his death , shall receive the benefit of his dying , a place in the commonwealth ; as which of you shall not ? With this I depart : that , as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome , I have the same dagger for myself , when it shall please my country to need my death .

Live , Brutus ! live ! live !

Bring him with triumph home unto his house .

Give him a statue with his ancestors .

Let him be C sar .

C sar's better parts 
Shall be crown'd in Brutus .

We'll bring him to his house with shouts and clamours .

My countrymen ,

Peace ! silence ! Brutus speaks .

Peace , ho !

Good countrymen , let me depart alone ,
And , for my sake , stay here with Antony .
Do grace to C sar's corpse , and grace his speech 
Tending to C sar's glories , which Mark Antony ,
By our permission , is allow'd to make .
I do entreat you , not a man depart ,
Save I alone , till Antony have spoke .


Stay , ho ! and let us hear Mark Antony .

Let him go up into the public chair ;
We'll hear him . Noble Antony , go up .

For Brutus' sake , I am beholding to you .


What does he say of Brutus ?

He says , for Brutus' sake ,
He finds himself beholding to us all .

'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here .

This C sar was a tyrant .

Nay , that's certain :
We are bless'd that Rome is rid of him .

Peace ! let us hear what Antony can say .

You gentle Romans ,

Peace , ho ! let us hear him .

Friends , Romans , countrymen , lend me your ears ;
I come to bury C sar , not to praise him .
The evil that men do lives after them ,
The good is oft interred with their bones ;
So let it be with C sar . The noble Brutus 
Hath told you C sar was ambitious ;
If it were so , it was a grievous fault ,
And grievously hath C sar answer'd it .
Here , under leave of Brutus and the rest ,
For Brutus is an honourable man ;
So are they all , all honourable men ,
Come I to speak in C sar's funeral .
He was my friend , faithful and just to me :
But Brutus says he was ambitious ;
And Brutus is an honourable man .
He hath brought many captives home to Rome ,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill :
Did this in C sar seem ambitious ?
When that the poor have cried , C sar hath wept ;
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff :
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ;
And Brutus is an honourable man .
You all did see that on the Lupercal 
I thrice presented him a kingly crown ,
Which he did thrice refuse : was this ambition ?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ;
And , sure , he is an honourable man .
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke ,
But here I am to speak what I do know ,
You all did love him once , not without cause :
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ?
O judgment ! thou art fled to brutish beasts ,
And men have lost their reason . Bear with me ;
My heart is in the coffin there with C sar ,
And I must pause till it come back to me .

Methinks there is much reason in his sayings .

If thou consider rightly of the matter ,
C sar has had great wrong .

Has he , masters ?
I fear there will a worse come in his place .

Mark'd ye his words ? He would not take the crown ;
Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious .

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

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

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

Now mark him ; he begins again to speak .

But yesterday the word of C sar might 
Have stood against the world ; now lies he there ,
And none so poor to do him reverence .
O masters ! if I were dispos'd to stir 
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage ,
I should do Brutus wrong , and Cassius wrong ,
Who , you all know , are honourable men .
I will not do them wrong ; I rather choose 
To wrong the dead , to wrong myself , and you ,
Than I will wrong such honourable men 
But here's a parchment with the seal of C sar ;
I found it in his closet , 'tis his will .
Let but the commons hear this testament 
Which , pardon me , I do not mean to read 
And they would go and kiss dead C sar's wounds ,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ,
Yea , beg a hair of him for memory ,
And , dying , mention it within their wills ,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy 
Unto their issue .

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

The will , the will ! we will hear C sar's will .

Have patience , gentle friends ; I must not read it :
It is not meet you know how C sar lov'd you .
You are not wood , you are not stones , but men ;
And , being men , hearing the will of C sar ,
It will inflame you , it will make you mad .
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ;
For if you should , O ! what would come of it .

Read the will ! we'll hear it , Antony ;
You shall read us the will , C sar's will .

Will you be patient ? Will you stay awhile ?
I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it .
I fear I wrong the honourable men 
Whose daggers have stabb'd C sar ; I do fear it .

They were traitors : honourable men !

The will ! the testament !

They were villains , murderers . The will ! read the will .

You will compel me then to read the will ?
Then make a ring about the corpse of C sar ,
And let me show you him that made the will .
Shall I descend ? and will you give me leave ?

Come down .

Descend .


You shall have leave .

A ring ; stand round .

Stand from the hearse ; stand from the body .

Room for Antony ; most noble Antony .

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

Stand back ! room ! bear back !

If you have tears , prepare to shed them now .
You all do know this mantle : I remember 
The first time ever C sar put it on ;
'Twas on a summer's evening , in his tent ,
That day he overcame the Nervii .
Look ! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through :
See what a rent the envious Casca made :
Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd ;
And , as he pluck'd his cursed steel away ,
Mark how the blood of C sar follow'd it ,
As rushing out of doors , to be resolv'd 
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd or no ;
For Brutus , as you know , was C sar's angel :
Judge , O you gods ! how dearly C sar lov'd him .
This was the most unkindest cut of all ;
For when the noble C sar saw him stab ,
Ingratitude , more strong than traitors' arms ,
Quite vanquish'd him : then burst his mighty heart ;
And , in his mantle muffling up his face ,
Even at the base of Pompey's status ,
Which all the while ran blood , great C sar fell .
O ! what a fall was there , my countrymen ;
Then I , and you , and all of us fell down ,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us .
O ! now you weep , and I perceive you feel 
The dint of pity ; these are gracious drops .
Kind souls , what ! weep you when you but behold 
Our C sar's vesture wounded ? Look you here ,
Here is himself , marr'd , as you see , with traitors .

O piteous spectacle !

O noble C sar !

O woeful day !

O traitors ! villains !

O most bloody sight !

We will be revenged .

Revenge !About !Seek !Burn !
Fire !Kill !Slay ! Let not a traitor live .

Stay , countrymen !

Peace there ! Hear the noble Antony .

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

Good friends , sweet friends , let me not stir you up 
To such a sudden flood of mutiny .
They that have done this deed are honourable :
What private griefs they have , alas ! I know not ,
That made them do it ; they are wise and honourable ,
And will , no doubt , with reasons answer you .
I come not , friends , to steal away your hearts :
I am no orator , as Brutus is ;
But , as you know me all , a plain blunt man ,
That love my friend ; and that they know full well 
That gave me public leave to speak of him .
For I have neither wit , nor words , nor worth ,
Action , nor utterance , nor the power of speech ,
To stir men's blood : I only speak right on ;
I tell you that which you yourselves do know ,
Show you sweet C sar's wounds , poor poor dumb mouths ,
And bid them speak for me : but were I Brutus ,
And Brutus Antony , there were an Antony 
Would ruffle up your spirits , and put a tongue 
In every wound of C sar , that should move 
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny .

We'll mutiny .

We'll burn the house of Brutus .

Away , then ! come , seek the conspirators .

Yet hear me , countrymen ; yet hear me speak .

Peace , ho !Hear Antony ,most noble Antony .

Why , friends , you go to do you know not what .
Wherein hath C sar thus deserv'd your loves ?
Alas ! you know not : I must tell you then .
You have forgot the will I told you of .

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

Here is the will , and under C sar's seal .
To every Roman citizen he gives ,
To every several man , seventy-five drachmas .

Most noble C sar ! we'll revenge his death .

O royal C sar !

Hear me with patience .

Peace , ho !

Moreover , he hath left you all his walks ,
His private arbours , and new-planted orchards ,
On this side Tiber ; he hath left them you ,
And to your heirs for ever ; common pleasures ,
To walk abroad , and recreate yourselves .
Here was a C sar ! when comes such another ?

Never , never ! Come , away , away !
We'll burn his body in the holy place ,
And with the brands fire the traitors' houses .
Take up the body .

Go fetch fire .

Pluck down benches .

Pluck down forms , windows , any thing .


Now let it work : mischief , thou art afoot ,
Take thou what course thou wilt !

How now , fellow !

Sir , Octavius is already come to Rome .

Where is he ?

He and Lepidus are at C sar's house .

And thither will I straight to visit him .
He comes upon a wish . Fortune is merry ,
And in this mood will give us any thing .

I heard him say Brutus and Cassius 
Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome .

Belike they had some notice of the people ,
How I had mov'd them . Bring me to Octavius .


I dreamt to-night that I did feast with C sar ,
And things unlucky charge my fantasy :
I have no will to wander forth of doors ,
Yet something leads me forth .


What is your name ?

Whither are you going ?

Where do you dwell ?

Are you a married man , or a bachelor ?

Answer every man directly .

Ay , and briefly .

Ay , and wisely .

Ay , and truly , you were best .

What is my name ? Whither am I going ? Where do I dwell ? Am I a married man , or a bachelor ? Then , to answer every man directly and briefly , wisely and truly : wisely I say , I am a bachelor .

That's as much as to say , they are fools that marry ; you'll bear me a bang for that , I fear . Proceed ; directly .

Directly , I am going to C sar's funeral .

As a friend or an enemy ?

As a friend .

That matter is answered directly .

For your dwelling , briefly .

Briefly , I dwell by the Capitol .

Your name , sir , truly .

Truly , my name is Cinna .

Tear him to pieces ; he's a conspirator .

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

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

I am not Cinna the conspirator .

It is no matter , his name's Cinna ; pluck but his name out of his heart , and turn him going .

Tear him , tear him ! Come , brands , ho ! firebrands ! To Brutus' , to Cassius' ; burn all . Some to Decius' house , and some to Casca's ; some to Ligarius' . Away ! go !

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

Your brother too must die ; consent you , Lepidus ?

I do consent .

Prick him down , Antony .

Upon condition Publius shall not live ,
Who is your sister's son , Mark Antony .

He shall not live ; look , with a spot I damn him .
But , Lepidus , go you to C sar's house ;
Fetch the will hither , and we shall determine 
How to cut off some charge in legacies .

What ! shall I find you here ?

Or here or at the Capitol .


This is a slight unmeritable man ,
Meet to be sent on errands : is it fit ,
The three-fold world divided , he should stand 
One of the three to share it ?

So you thought him ;
And took his voice who should be prick'd to die ,
In our black sentence and proscription .

Octavius , I have seen more days than you :
And though we lay these honours on this man ,
To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads ,
He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold ,
To groan and sweat under the business ,
Either led or driven , as we point the way ;
And having brought our treasure where we will ,
Then take we down his load , and turn him off ,
Like to the empty ass , to shake his ears ,
And graze in commons .

You may do your will ;
But he's a tried and valiant soldier .

So is my horse , Octavius ; and for that 
I do appoint him store of provender .
It is a creature that I teach to fight ,
To wind , to stop , to run directly on ,
His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit .
And , in some taste , is Lepidus but so ;
He must be taught , and train'd , and bid go forth ;
A barren-spirited fellow ; one that feeds 
On abject orts , and imitations ,
Which , out of use and stal'd by other men ,
Begin his fashion : do not talk of him 
But as a property . And now , Octavius ,
Listen great things : Brutus and Cassius 
Are levying powers ; we must straight make head ;
Therefore let our alliance be combin'd ,
Our best friends made , and our best means stretch'd out ;
And let us presently go sit in council ,
How covert matters may be best disclos'd ,
And open perils surest answered .

Let us do so : for we are at the stake ,
And bay'd about with many enemies ;
And some that smile have in their hearts , I fear ,
Millions of mischiefs .


Stand , ho !

Give the word , ho ! and stand .

What now , Lucilius ! is Cassius near ?

He is at hand ; and Pindarus is come 
To do you salutation from his master .


He greets me well . Your master , Pindarus ,
In his own change , or by ill officers ,
Hath given me some worthy cause to wish 
Things done , undone ; but , if he be at hand ,
I shall be satisfied .

I do not doubt 
But that my noble master will appear 
Such as he is , full of regard and honour .

He is not doubted . A word , Lucilius ;
How he receiv'd you , let me be resolv'd .

With courtesy and with respect enough ;
But not with such familiar instances ,
Nor with such free and friendly conference ,
As he hath us'd of old .

Thou hast describ'd 
A hot friend cooling . Ever note , Lucilius ,
When love begins to sicken and decay ,
It useth an enforced ceremony .
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith ;
But hollow men , like horses hot at hand ,
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle ;
But when they should endure the bloody spur ,
They fall their crests , and , like deceitful jades ,
Sink in the trial . Comes his army on ?

They mean this night in Sardis to be quarter'd ;
The greater part , the horse in general ,
Are come with Cassius .

Hark ! he is arriv'd .

March gently on to meet him .


Stand , ho !

Stand , ho ! Speak the word along .

Stand !

Stand !

Stand !

Most noble brother , you have done me wrong .

Judge me , you gods ! Wrong I mine enemies ?
And , if not so , how should I wrong a brother ?

Brutus , this sober form of yours hides wrongs ;
And when you do them 

Cassius , be content ;
Speak your griefs softly : I do know you well .
Before the eyes of both our armies here ,
Which should perceive nothing but love from us ,
Let us not wrangle : bid them move away ;
Then in my tent , Cassius , enlarge your griefs ,
And I will give you audience .

Pindarus ,
Bid our commanders lead their charges off 
A little from this ground .

Lucilius , do you the like ; and let no man 
Come to our tent till we have done our conference .
Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door .


That you have wrong'd me doth appear in this :
You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella 
For taking bribes here of the Sardians ;
Wherein my letters , praying on his side ,
Because I knew the man , were slighted off .

You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case .

In such a time as this it is not meet 
That every nice offence should bear his comment .

Let me tell you , Cassius , you yourself 
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm ;
To sell and mart your offices for gold 
To undeservera .

I an itching palm !
You know that you are Brutus that speak this ,
Or , by the gods , this speech were else your last .

The name of Cassius honours this corruption ,
And chastisement doth therefore hide his head .

Chastisement !

Remember March , the ides of March remember :
Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake ?
What villain touch'd his body , that did stab ,
And not for justice ? What ! shall one of us ,
That struck the foremost man of all this world 
But for supporting robbers , shall we now 
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ,
And sell the mighty space of our large honours 
For so much trash as may be grasped thus ?
I had rather be a dog , and bay the moon ,
Than such a Roman .

Brutus , bay not me ;
I'll not endure it : you forget yourself ,
To hedge me in . I am a soldier , I ,
Older in practice , abler than yourself 
To make conditions .

Go to ; you are not , Cassius .

I am .

I say you are not .

Urge me no more , I shall forget myself ;
Have mind upon your health ; tempt me no further .

Away , slight man !

Is 't possible ?

Hear me , for I will speak .
Must I give way and room to your rash choler ?
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares ?

O ye gods ! ye gods ! Must I endure all this ?

All this ! ay , more : fret till your proud heart break ;
Go show your slaves how choleric you are ,
And make your bondmen tremble . Must I budge ?
Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch 
Under your testy humour ? By the gods ,
You shall digest the venom of your spleen ,
Though it do split you ; for , from this day forth ,
I'll use you for my mirth , yea , for my laughter ,
When you are waspish .

Is it come to this ?

You say you are a better soldier :
Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true ,
And it shall please me well . For mine own part ,
I shall be glad to learn of noble men .

You wrong me every way ; you wrong me , Brutus ;
I said an elder soldier , not a better :
Did I say , 'better ?' 

If you did , I care not .

When C sar liv'd , he durst not thus have mov'd me .

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

I durst not !

No .

What ! durst not tempt him !

For your life you durst not .

Do not presume too much upon my love ;
I may do that I shall be sorry for .

You have done that you should be sorry for .
There is no terror , Cassius , in your threats ;
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty 
That they pass by me as the idle wind ,
Which I respect not . I did send to you 
For certain sums of gold , which you denied me ;
For I can raise no money by vile means :
By heaven , I had rather coin my heart ,
And drop my blood for drachmas , than to wring 
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash 
By any indirection . I did send 
To you for gold to pay my legions ,
Which you denied me : was that done like Cassius ?
Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so ?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous ,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends ,
Be ready , gods , with all your thunderbolts ;
Dash him to pieces !

I denied you not .

You did .

I did not : he was but a fool 
That brought my answer back . Brutus hath riv'd my heart .
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities ,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are .

I do not , till you practise them on me .

You love me not .

I do not like your faults .

A friendly eye could never see such faults .

A flatterer's would not , though they do appear 
As huge as high Olympus .

Come , Antony , and young Octavius , come ,
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius ,
For Cassius is aweary of the world ;
Hated by one he loves ; brav'd by his brother ;
Check'd like a bondman ; all his faults observ'd ,
Set in a note-book , learn'd , and conn'd by rote ,
To cast into my teeth . O ! I could weep 
My spirit from mine eyes . There is my dagger ,
And here my naked breast ; within , a heart 
Dearer than Plutus' mine , richer than gold :
If that thou be'st a Roman , take it forth ;
I , that denied thee gold , will give my heart :
Strike , as thou didst at C sar ; for , I know ,
When thou didst hate him worst , thou lov'dst him better 
Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius .

Sheathe your dagger :
Be angry when you will , it shall have scope ;
Do what you will , dishonour shall be humour .
O Cassius ! you are yoked with a lamb 
That carries anger as the flint bears fire ,
Who , much enforced , shows a hasty spark ,
And straight is cold again .

Hath Cassius liv'd 
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus ,
When grief and blood ill-temper'd vexeth him ?

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

Do you confess so much ? Give me your hand .

And my heart too .

O Brutus !

What's the matter ?

Have not you love enough to bear with me ,
When that rash humour which my mother gave me 
Makes me forgetful ?

Yes , Cassius ; and from henceforth 
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus ,
He'll think your mother chides , and leave you so .


Let me go in to see the generals ;
There is some grudge between 'em , 'tis not meet 
They be alone .

You shall not come to them .

Nothing but death shall stay me .


How now ! What's the matter ?

For shame , you generals ! What do you mean ?
Love , and be friends , as two such men should be ;
For I have seen more years , I'm sure , than ye .

Ha , ha ! how vilely doth this cynic rime !

Get you hence , sirrah ; saucy fellow , hence !

Bear with him , Brutus ; 'tis his fashion .

I'll know his humour , when he knows his time :
What should the wars do with these jigging fools ?
Companion , hence !

Away , away ! be gone .


Lucilius and Titinius , bid the commanders 
Prepare to lodge their companies to-night .

And come yourselves , and bring Messala with you ,
Immediately to us .


Lucius , a bowl of wine !


I did not think you could have been so angry .

O Cassius ! I am sick of many griefs .

Of your philosophy you make no use 
If you give place to accidental evils .

No man bears sorrow better : Portia is dead .

Ha ! Portia !

She is dead .

How 'scap'd I killing when I cross'd you so ?
O insupportable and touching loss !
Upon what sickness ?

Impatient of my absence ,
And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony 
Have made themselves so strong ;for with her death 
That tidings came :with this she fell distract ,
And , her attendants absent , swallow'd fire .

And died so ?

Even so .

O ye immortal gods !


Speak no more of her . Give me a bowl of wine .
In this I bury all unkindness , Cassius .


My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge .
Fill , Lucius , till the wine o'erswell the cup ;
I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love .


Come in , Titinius .

Welcome , good Messala .
Now sit we close about this taper here ,

And call in question our necessities .

Portia , art thou gone ?

No more , I pray you .
Messala , I have here received letters ,
That young Octavius and Mark Antony 
Come down upon us with a mighty power ,
Bending their expedition towards Philippi .

Myself have letters of the self-same tenour .

With what addition ?

That by proscription and bills of outlawry ,
Octavius , Antony , and Lepidus ,
Have put to death an hundred senators .

Therein our letters do not well agree ;
Mine speak of seventy senators that died 
By their proscriptions , Cicero being one .

Cicero one !

Cicero is dead ,
And by that order of proscription .
Had you your letters from your wife , my lord ?

No , Messala .

Nor nothing in your letters writ of her ?

Nothing , Messala .

That , methinks , is strange .

Why ask you ? Hear you aught of her in yours ?

No , my lord .

Now , as you are a Roman , tell me true .

Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell :
For certain she is dead , and by strange manner .

Why , farewell , Portia . We must die , Messala :
With meditating that she must die once ,
I have the patience to endure it now .

Even so great men great losses should endure .

I have as much of this in art as you ,
But yet my nature could not bear it so .

Well , to our work alive . What do you think 
Of marching to Philippi presently ?

I do not think it good .

Your reason ?

This is it :
'Tis better that the enemy seek us :
So shall he waste his means , weary his soldiers ,
Doing himself offence ; whilst we , lying still ,
Are full of rest , defence , and nimbleness .

Good reasons must , of force , give place to better ,
The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground 
Do stand but in a forc'd affection ;
For they have grudg'd us contribution :
The enemy , marching along by them ,
By them shall make a fuller number up ,
Come on refresh'd , new-added , and encourag'd ;
From which advantage shall we cut him off ,
If at Philippi we do face him there ,
These people at our back .

Hear me , good brother .

Under your pardon . You must note beside ,
That we have tried the utmost of our friends ,
Our legions are brim-full , our cause is ripe :
The enemy increaseth every day ;
We , at the height , are ready to decline .
There is a tide in the affairs of men ,
Which , taken at the flood , leads on to fortune ;
Omitted , all the voyage of their life 
Is bound in shallows and in miseries .
On such a full sea are we now afloat ;
And we must take the current when it serves ,
Or lose our ventures .

Then , with your will , go on ;
We'll along ourselves , and meet them at Philippi .

The deep of night is crept upon our talk ,
And nature must obey necessity ,
Which we will niggard with a little rest .
There is no more to say ?

No more . Good-night :
Early to-morrow will we rise , and hence .

Lucius !


My gown .

Farewell , good Messala :
Good-night , Titinius . Noble , noble Cassius ,

Good-night , and good repose .

O my dear brother !
This was an ill beginning of the night :
Never come such division 'tween our souls !
Let it not , Brutus .

Every thing is well .

Good-night , my lord .

Good-night , good brother .

Good-night , Lord Brutus .

Good-night , Lord Brutus .

Farewell , every one .


Give me the gown . Where is thy instrument ?

Here in the tent .

What ! thou speak'st drowsily ?
Poor knave , I blame thee not ; thou art o'erwatch'd .
Call Claudius and some other of my men ;
I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent .

Varro ! and Claudius !


Calls my lord ?

I pray you , sirs , lie in my tent and sleep :
It may be I shall raise you by and by 
On business to my brother Cassius .

So please you , we will stand and watch your pleasure .

I will not have it so ; lie down , good sirs ;
It may be I shall otherwise bethink me .
Look , Lucius , here's the book I sought for so ;
I put it in the pocket of my gown .


I was sure your lordship did not give it me .

Bear with me , good boy , I am much forgetful .
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile ,
And touch thy instrument a strain or two ?

Ay , my lord , an 't please you .

It does , my boy :
I trouble thee too much , but thou art willing .

It is my duty , sir .

I should not urge thy duty past thy might ;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest .

I have slept , my lord , already .

It was well done , and thou shalt sleep again ;
I will not hold thee long : if I do live ,
I will be good to thee .

This is a sleepy tune : O murderous slumber !
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy ,
That plays thee music ? Gentle knave , good-night ;
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee .
If thou dost nod , thou break'st thy instrument ;
I'll take it from thee ; and , good boy , good-night .
Let me see , let me see ; is not the leaf turn'd down 
Where I left reading ? Here it is , I think .


How ill this taper burns ! Ha ! who comes here ?
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes 
That shapes this monstrous apparition .
It comes upon me . Art thou any thing ?
Art thou some god , some angel , or some devil ,
That mak'st my blood cold and my hair to stare ?

Speak to me what thou art .

Thy evil spirit , Brutus .

Why com'st thou ?

To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi .

Well ; then I shall see thee again ?

Ay , at Philippi .

Why , I will see thee at Philippi then .

Now I have taken heart thou vanishest :
Ill spirit , I would hold more talk with thee .
Boy , Lucius ! Varro ! Claudius ! Sirs , awake !
Claudius !

The strings , my lord , are false .

He thinks he still is at his instrument .
Lucius , awake !

My lord !

Didst thou dream , Lucius , that thou so criedst out ?

My lord , I do not know that I did cry .

Yes , that thou didst . Didst thou see any thing ?

Nothing , my lord .

Sleep again , Lucius . Sirrah , Claudius !
Fellow thou ! awake !

My lord !

My lord !

Why did you so cry out , sirs , in your sleep ?

Did we , my lord ?

Did we , my lord ?

Ay : saw you any thing ?

No , my lord , I saw nothing .

Nor I , my lord .

Go , and commend me to my brother Cassius .
Bid him set on his powers betimes before ,
And we will follow .

It shall be done , my lord .

It shall be done , my lord .

Now , Antony , our hopes are answered :
You said the enemy would not come down ,
But keep the hills and upper regions ;
It proves not so ; their battles are at hand ;
They mean to warn us at Philippi here ,
Answering before we do demand of them .

Tut ! I am in their bosoms , and I know 
Wherefore they do it : they could be content 
To visit other places ; and come down 
With fearful bravery , thinking by this face 
To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage ;
But 'tis not so .


Prepare you , generals :
The enemy comes on in gallant show ;
Their bloody sign of battle is hung out ,
And something to be done immediately .

Octavius , lead your battle softly on ,
Upon the left hand of the even field .

Upon the right hand I ; keep thou the left .

Why do you cross me in this exigent ?

I do not cross you ; but I will do so .

They stand , and would have parley .

Stand fast , Titinius : we must out and talk .

Mark Antony , shall we give sign of battle ?

No , C sar , we will answer on their charge .
Make forth ; the generals would have some words .

Stir not until the signal .

Words before blows : is it so , countrymen ?

Not that we love words better , as you do .

Good words are better than bad strokes , Octavius .

In your bad strokes , Brutus , you give good words :
Witness the hole you made in C sar's heart ,
Crying , 'Long live ! hail , C sar !' 

Antony ,
The posture of your blows are yet unknown ;
But for your words , they rob the Hybla bees ,
And leave them honeyless .

Not stingless too .

O ! yes , and soundless too ;
For you have stol'n their buzzing , Antony ,
And very wisely threat before you sting .

Villains ! you did not so when your vile daggers 
Hack'd one another in the sides of C sar :
How show'd your teeth like apes , and fawn'd like hounds ,
And bow'd like bondmen , kissing C sar's feet ;
Whilst damned Casca , like a cur , behind 
Struck C sar on the neck . O you flatterers !

Flatterers ! Now , Brutus , thank yourself :
This tongue had not offended so to-day ,
If Cassius might have rul'd .

Come , come , the cause : if arguing make us sweat ,
The proof of it will turn to redder drops .
Look ;
I draw a sword against conspirators ;
When think you that the sword goes up again ?
Never , till C sar's three-and-thirty wounds 
Be well aveng'd ; or till another C sar 
Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors .

C sar , thou canst not die by traitors' hands ,
Unless thou bring'st them with thee .

So I hope ;
I was not born to die on Brutus' sword .

O ! if thou wert the noblest of thy strain ,
Young man , thou couldst not die more honourable .

A peevish schoolboy , worthless of such honour ,
Join'd with a masquer and a reveller .

Old Cassius still !

Come , Antony ; away !
Defiance , traitors , hurl we in your teeth .
If you dare fight to-day , come to the field ;
If not , when you have stomachs .


Why now , blow wind , swell billow , and swim bark !
The storm is up , and all is on the hazard .

Ho !
Lucilius ! hark , a word with you .

My lord ?


Messala !

What says my general ?

Messala ,
This is my birth-day ; as this very day 
Was Cassius born . Give me thy hand , Messala :
Be thou my witness that against my will ,
As Pompey was , am I compell'd to set 
Upon one battle all our liberties .
You know that I held Epicurus strong ,
And his opinion ; now I change my mind ,
And partly credit things that do presage .
Coming from Sardis , on our former ensign 
Two mighty eagles fell , and there they perch'd ,
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands ;
Who to Philippi here consorted us :
This morning are they fled away and gone ,
And in their stead do ravens , crows , and kites 
Fly o'er our heads , and downward look on us ,
As we were sickly prey : their shadows seem 
A canopy most fatal , under which 
Our army lies , ready to give up the ghost .

Believe not so .

I but believe it partly ,
For I am fresh of spirit and resolv'd 
To meet all perils very constantly .

Even so , Lucilius .

Now , most noble Brutus ,
The gods to-day stand friendly , that we may ,
Lovers in peace , lead on our days to age !
But since the affairs of men rest still incertain ,
Let's reason with the worst that may befall .
If we do lose this battle , then is this 
The very last time we shall speak together :
What are you then , determined to do ?

Even by the rule of that philosophy 
By which I did blame Cato for the death 
Which he did give himself ; I know not how ,
But I do find it cowardly and vile ,
For fear of what might fall , so to prevent 
The time of life : arming myself with patience ,
To stay the providence of some high powers 
That govern us below .

Then , if we lose this battle ,
You are contented to be led in triumph 
Thorough the streets of Rome ?

No , Cassius , no : think not , thou noble Roman ,
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome ;
He bears too great a mind : but this same day 
Must end that work the ides of March begun ;
And whether we shall meet again I know not .
Therefore our everlasting farewell take :
For ever , and for ever , farewell , Cassius !
If we do meet again , why , we shall smile ;
If not , why then , this parting was well made .

For ever , and for ever , farewell , Brutus !
If we do meet again , we'll smile indeed ;
If not , 'tis true this parting was well made .

Why , then , lead on . O ! that a man might know 
The end of this day's business , ere it come ;
But it sufficeth that the day will end ,
And then the end is known . Come , ho ! away !


Ride , ride , Messala , ride , and give these bills 
Unto the legions on the other side .

Let them set on at once , for I perceive 
But cold demeanour in Octavius' wing ,
And sudden push gives them the overthrow .
Ride , ride , Messala : let them all come down .


O ! look , Titinius , look , the villains fly :
Myself have to mine own turn'd enemy ;
This ensign here of mine was turning back ;
I slew the coward , and did take it from him .

O Cassius ! Brutus gave the word too early ;
Who , having some advantage on Octavius ,
Took it too eagerly : his soldiers fell to spoil ,
Whilst we by Antony are all enclos'd .


Fly further off , my lord , fly further off ;
Mark Antony is in your tents , my lord :
Fly , therefore , noble Cassius , fly far off .

This hill is far enough . Look , look , Titinius ;
Are those my tents where I perceive the fire ?

They are , my lord .

Titinius , if thou lov'st me ,
Mount thou my horse , and hide thy spurs in him ,
Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops 
And here again ; that I may rest assur'd 
Whether yond troops are friend or enemy .

I will be here again , even with a thought .


Go , Pindarus , get higher on that hill ;
My sight was ever thick ; regard Titinius ,
And tell me what thou not'st about the field .

This day I breathed first ; time is come round ,
And where I did begin , there shall I end ;
My life is run his compass . Sirrah , what news ?

O my lord !

What news ?

Titinius is enclosed round about 
With horsemen , that make to him on the spur ;
Yet he spurs on : now they are almost on him ;
Now , Titinius ! now some light ; O ! he lights too :
He's ta'en ;

and , hark ! they shout for joy .

Come down ; behold no more .
O , coward that I am , to live so long ,
To see my best friend ta'en before my face !

Come hither , sirrah :
In Parthia did I take thee prisoner ;
And then I swore thee , saving of thy life ,
That whatsoever I did bid thee do ,
Thou shouldst attempt it . Come now , keep thine oath ;
Now be a freeman ; and with this good sword ,
That ran through C sar's bowels , search this bosom .
Stand not to answer ; here , take thou the hilts ;
And , when my face is cover'd , as 'tis now ,
Guide thou the sword . C sar , thou art reveng'd ,
Even with the sword that kill'd thee .


So , I am free ; yet would not so have been ;
Durst I have done my will . O Cassius ,
Far from this country Pindarus shall run ,
Where never Roman shall take note of him .

It is but change , Titinius ; for Octavius 
Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power ,
As Cassius' legions are by Antony .

These tidings will well comfort Cassius .

Where did you leave him ?

All disconsolate ,
With Pindarus his bondman , on this hill .

Is not that he that lies upon the ground ?

He lies not like the living . O my heart !

Is not that he ?

No , this was he , Messala ,
But Cassius is no more . O setting sun !
As in thy red rays thou dost sink to-night ,
So in his red blood Cassius' day is set ;
The sun of Rome is set . Our day is gone ;
Clouds , dews , and dangers come ; our deeds are done .
Mistrust of my success hath done this deed .

Mistrust of good success hath done this deed .
O hateful error , melancholy's child !
Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men 
The things that are not ? O error ! soon conceiv'd ,
Thou never com'st unto a happy birth ,
But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee .

What , Pindarus ! Where art thou , Pindarus ?

Seek him , Titinius , whilst I go to meet 
The noble Brutus , thrusting this report 
Into his ears ; I may say , thrusting it ;
For piercing steel and darts envenomed 
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus 
As tidings of this sight .

Hie you , Messala ,
And I will seek for Pindarus the while .

Why didst thou send me forth , brave Cassius ?
Did I not meet thy friends ? and did not they 
Put on my brows this wreath of victory ,
And bid me give it thee ? Didst thou not hear their shouts ?
Alas ! thou hast misconstru'd every thing .
But , hold thee , take this garland on thy brow ;
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee , and I 
Will do his bidding . Brutus , come apace ,
And see how I regarded Caius Cassius .
By your leave , gods : this is a Roman's part :
Come , Cassius' sword , and find Titinius' heart .

Where , where , Messala , doth his body lie ?

Lo , yonder : and Titinius mourning it .

Titinius' face is upward .

He is slain .

O Julius C sar ! thou art mighty yet !
Thy spirit walks abroad , and turns our swords 
In our own proper entrails .


Brave Titinius !
Look whe'r he have not crown'd dead Cassius !

Are yet two Romans living such as these ?
The last of all the Romans , fare thee well !
It is impossible that ever Rome 
Should breed thy fellow . Friends , I owe more tears 
To this dead man than you shall see me pay .
I shall find time , Cassius , I shall find time .
Come therefore , and to Thassos send his body :
His funerals shall not be in our camp ,
Lest it discomfort us . Lucilius , come ;
And come , young Cato ;let us to the field .
Labeo and Flavius , set our battles on :
'Tis three o'clock ; and , Romans , yet ere night 
We shall try fortune in a second fight .


Yet , countrymen , O ! yet hold up your heads !

What bastard doth not ? Who will go with me ?
I will proclaim my name about the field :
I am the son of Marcus Cato , ho !
A foe to tyrants , and my country's friend ;
I am the son of Marcus Cato , ho !

And I am Brutus , Marcus Brutus , I ;
Brutus , my country's friend ; know me for Brutus !


O young and noble Cato , art thou down ?
Why , now thou diest as bravely as Titinius ,
And mayst be honour'd being Cato's son .

Yield , or thou diest .

Only I yield to die :
There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight .

Kill Brutus , and be honour'd in his death .

We must not . A noble prisoner !

Room , ho ! Tell Antony , Brutus is ta'en .

I'll tell the news : here comes the general .

Brutus is ta'en , my lord .

Where is he ?

Safe , Antony ; Brutus is safe enough :
I dare assure thee that no enemy 
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :
The gods defend him from so great a shame !
When you do find him , or alive or dead ,
He will be found like Brutus , like himself .

This is not Brutus , friend ; but , I assure you ,
A prize no less in worth . Keep this man safe ,
Give him all kindness : I had rather have 
Such men my friends than enemies . Go on ,
And see whe'r Brutus be alive or dead ;
And bring us word unto Octavius' tent ,
How every thing is chanc'd .


Come , poor remains of friends , rest on this rock .

Statilius show'd the torch-light ; but , my lord ,
He came not back : he is or ta'en or slain .

Sit thee down , Clitus : slaying is the word ;
It is a deed in fashion . Hark thee , Clitus .


What , I , my lord ? No , not for all the world .

Peace , then ! no words .

I'll rather kill myself .

Hark thee , Dardanius .


Shall I do such a deed ?

O , Dardanius !

O , Clitus !

What ill request did Brutus make to thee ?

To kill him , Clitus . Look , he meditates .

Now is that noble vessel full of grief ,
That it runs over even at his eyes .

Come hither , good Volumnius : list a word .

What says my lord ?

Why this , Volumnius :
The ghost of C sar hath appear'd to me 
Two several times by night ; at Sardis once ,
And this last night here in Philippi fields .
I know my hour is come .

Not so , my lord .

Nay , I am sure it is , Volumnius .
Thou seest the world , Volumnius , how it goes ;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit :
It is more worthy to leap in ourselves ,
Than tarry till they push us . Good Volumnius ,
Thou know'st that we two went to school together :
Even for that our love of old , I prithee ,
Hold thou my sword-hilts , whilst I run on it .

That's not an office for a friend , my lord .


Fly , fly , my lord ! there is no tarrying here .

Farewell to you ; and you ; and you , Volumnius .
Strato , thou hast been all this while asleep ;
Farewell to thee too , Strato . Countrymen ,
My heart doth joy that yet , in all my life ,
I found no man but he was true to me .
I shall have glory by this losing day ,
More than Octavius and Mark Antony 
By this vile conquest shall attain unto .
So fare you well at once ; for Brutus' tongue 
Hath almost ended his life's history :
Night hangs upon mine eyes ; my bones would rest ,
That have but labour'd to attain this hour .


Fly , my lord , fly .

Hence ! I will follow .

I prithee , Strato , stay thou by thy lord :
Thou art a fellow of a good respect ;
Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it :
Hold then my sword , and turn away thy face ,
While I do run upon it . Wilt thou , Strato ?

Give me your hand first : fare you well , my lord .

Farewell , good Strato .

C sar , now be still ;
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will .

What man is that ?

My master's man . Strato , where is thy master ?

Free from the bondage you are in , Messala ;
The conquerors can but make a fire of him ;
For Brutus only overcame himself ,
And no man else hath honour by his death .

So Brutus should be found . I thank thee , Brutus ,
That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true .

All that serv'd Brutus , I will entertain them .
Fellow , wilt thou bestow thy time with me ?

Ay , if Messala will prefer me to you .

Do so , good Messala .

How died my master , Strato ?

I held the sword , and he did run on it .

Octavius , then take him to follow thee ,
That did the latest service to my master .

This was the noblest Roman of them all ;
All the conspirators save only he 
Did that they did in envy of great C sar ;
He only , in a general honest thought 
And common good to all , made one of them .
His life was gentle , and the elements 
So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up 
And say to all the world , 'This was a man !' 

According to his virtue let us use him ,
With all respect and rites of burial .
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie ,
Most like a soldier , order'd honourably .
So , call the field to rest ; and let's away ,
To part the glories of this happy day .