Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Flavius, Caska, and certain Commoners over the Stage
Flavius.
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?
Car.
Why Sir, a Carpenter.
Cas.
Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?
What doſt thou with thy beſt Apparel on?
You ſir, what Trade are you?
Cobl.
Truly Sir, in reſpect of a fine Workman, I am but as you would ſay,
a Cobler.
Cas.
But what Trade art thou? Anſwer me directly.
Cob.
A Trade Sir, that I hope I may uſe, with a ſafe Conſcience, which is
indeed Sir, a Mender of bad ſoles.
Fla.
What Trade thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what Trade?
Cobl.
Nay I beſeech you Sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out Sir,
I can mend you.
Cas.
What mean'ſt thou by that? Mend me, thou ſawcy Fellow?
Cob.
Why Sir, Cobble you.
Fla.
Thou art a Cobler, art thou?
Cob.
Truly Sir, all that I live by is with the Aul: I meedle with no
Tradeſmans matters, nor womens matters; but withal I am indeed Sir, a
Surgeon to old ſhooes: when they are in great danger, I recover them. As
proper men as ever trod upon Neats Leather, have gone upon my handy-work.
Fla.
But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?
Why do'ſt thou lead theſe men about the ſtreets?
Cob.
Truly Sir, to wear out their ſhooes, to get my ſelf into more work.
But indeed Sir, we make Holyday to ſee Caeſar, and to rejoyce in his
Triumph.
Cas.
Wherefore rejoyce?
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 then ſenſleſs 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 ſate
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To ſee great Pompey paſs the Streets of Rome:
And when you ſaw his Chariot but appear,
Have you not made an Univerſal ſhout,
That Tyber trembled underneath her banks
To hear the replication of your ſounds,
Made in her Concave Shores?
And do you now put on your beſt attyre?
And do you now cull out a Holyday?
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.
Fla.
Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault
Aſſemble all the poor men of your ſort;
Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears
Into the Channel, till the loweſt ſtream
Do kiſs the moſt exalted Shores of all.
Exeunt all the Commoners.
See where their baſeſt mettle be not mov'd,
They vaniſh tongue-tyed in their guiltineſs:
Go you down that way towards the Capitol,
This way will I: Diſrobe the Images,
If you do find them deckt with Ceremonies.
Cas.
May we do ſo?
You know it is the Feaſt of Lupercal.
Fla.
It is no matter, let no Images
Be hung with Caeſars Trophies: I'le about,
And drive away the Vulgar from the Streets;
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
Theſe growing Feathers, pluck't from Caeſars wing,
Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,
Who elſe would ſoar above the view of men,
And keep us all in ſervile fearfulneſs.
Exeunt.
Enter Caeſar, Antony for the Courſe, Calphurnia, Portia,
Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Caſſius, Caska, a Soothſayer:
after them Murellus and Flavius.
Caeſ.
Calphurnia.
Cask.
Peace ho, Caeſar ſpeaks.
Caeſ.
Calphurnia.
Calph.
Here my Lord.
Caeſ.
Stand you directly in Antonio's way,
When he doth run his courſe. Antonio.
Ant.
Caeſar, my Lord.
Caeſ.
Forget not in your ſpeed Antonio,
To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders ſay,
The Barren touched in this holy chace,
Shake off their ſterile curſe.
Ant.
I ſhall remember,
When Caeſar ſays, Do this; it is perform'd.
Caeſ.
Set on and leave no Ceremony out.
Sooth.
Caeſar.
Caeſ.
Ha! Who calls?
Cask.
Bid every noyſe be ſtill: peace yet again.
Caeſ.
Who is it in the preſs, that calls on me?
I hear a Tongue ſhriller then all the Muſick
Cry, Caeſar: Speak, Caeſar is turn'd to hear,
Sooth.
Beware the Ides of March.
Caeſ.
What man is that?
Br.
A Sooth ſayer bids you beware the Ides of March.
Caeſ.
Set him before me, let me ſee his face.
Caſſi.
Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Caeſar.
Caeſ.
What ſay'ſt thou to me now? Speak once again.
Sooth.
Beware the Ides of March.
Caeſ.
He is a dreamer, let us leave him: Paſs.
Sennet. Exeunt. Manet Brut. & Caſſ.
Caſſi.
Will you go ſee the order of the courſe?
Brut.
Not I.
Caſſi.
I pray you do.
Brut.
I am not Gameſom: I do lack ſome part
Of that quick Spirit that is in Antony:
Let me not hinder Caſſius your deſires;
I'le leave you.
Caſſi.
Brutus, I do obſerve you now of late:
I have not from your eyes, that gentleneſs
And ſhew of love, as I was wont to have:
You bear too ſtubborn, and too ſtrange a hand
Over your Friend, that loves you.
Bru.
Caſſius,
Be not deceiv'd: If I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my Countenance
Meerly upon my ſelf. Vexed I am
Of late, with paſſions of ſome difference,
Conceptions only proper to my ſelf,
Which give ſome ſoyl (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,
Then that poor Brutus with himſelf at War,
Forgets the ſhews of Love to other men.
Caſſi.
Then Brutus, I have much miſtook your paſſion,
By means whereof, this Breſt of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you ſee your face?
Brutus.
No Caſſius:
For the eye ſees not it ſelf but by reflection,
By ſome other things.
Caſſius.
'Tis juſt,
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no ſuch Mirrors, as will turn
Your hidden worthineſs into your eye,
That you might ſee your ſhadow:
I have heard,
Where many of the beſt reſpect in Rome,
(Except immortal Caeſar) ſpeaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this Ages yoak,
Have wiſh'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru.
Into what dangers, would you
Lead me Caſſius?
That you would have me ſeek into my ſelf,
For that which is not in me?
Caſ.
Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear:
And ſince you know, you cannot ſee your ſelf
So well as by Reflection; I your Glaſs,
Will modeſtly diſcover to your ſelf
That of your ſelf, which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus.
Were I a common Laughter, or did uſe
To ſtale with ordinary Oaths my love
To every new Proteſter: if you know,
That I do fawn on men, and hugg them hard,
And after ſcandal them: Or if you know,
That I profeſs my ſelf in Banquetting
To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.
Flouriſh, and Shout.
Bru.
What means this Shouting?
I do fear, the People chooſe Caeſar
For their King.
Caſſi,
I, do you fear it?
Then muſt I think you would not have it ſo.
Bru.
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 ought toward the general good,
Set Honour in one eye, and Death i'th' other,
And I will look on both indifferently:
For let the Gods ſo ſpeed me, as I love
The name of Honour, more then I fear death.
Caſſi.
I know that vertue 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 my ſelf.
I was born free as Caeſar, so were you,
We both have fed as well, and we can both
Endure the Winters cold, as well as he.
For once upon a Raw and Guſty day,
The troubled Tyber, chaſing with her Shores,
Caeſar ſaid to me, dar'ſt thou Caſſius now
Leap in with me into this angry Flood,
And ſwim to yonder Point? Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bad 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 Controverſie.
But ere we could arrive the Point propos'd,
Caeſar cry'd, Help me Caſſius, or I ſink.
I (as Aeneas, our great Anceſtor,
Did from the Flames of Troy, upon his ſhoulder
The old Anchiſes bear) ſo, from the waves of Tyber
Did I the tyred Caeſar: And this Man,
Is now become a God, and Caſſius is
A wretched Creature, and muſt bend his body,
If Caeſar careleſly but nod on him.
He had a Feaver 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 flye,
And that ſame Eye, whoſe bend doth awe the World,
Did loſe his Luſtre: I did hear him grone:
I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans
Mark him, and write his Speeches in their Books,
Alas, it cryed, 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 Majeſtick World,
And bear the Palm alone.
Shout. Flowriſh.
Bru.
Another general ſhout?
I do believe, that theſe applauſes are
For ſome new Honours, that are heap'd on Caeſar.
Caſſi.
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 our ſelves diſhonourable Graves.
Men at ſome time, are Maſters of their Fates.
The fault (dear Brutus) is not in our Stars,
But in our ſelves, that we are underlings.
Brutus and Caeſar: What ſhould be in that Caeſar?
Why ſhould that name be ſounded more then yours?
Write them together: Yours, is as fair a Name:
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well.
Weigh them, it is as heavy: Conjure with 'em,
Brutus will ſtart a Spirit as ſoon as Caeſar.
Now in the names of all the Gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Caeſar feed,
That he is grown ſo great? Age, thou art 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 then with one man?
When could they ſay (till now) that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide Walks incompaſt but one man?
Now is it Rome indeed, and Rome 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.
Bru.
That you do love me, I am nothing jealous:
What you would work me too, 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 intreat 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,
Then to repute himſelf a Son of Rome
Under theſe hard Conditions, as this time
Is like to lay upon us.
Caſſi.
I am glad that my weak words
Have ſtruck but thus much ſhew of fire from Brutus.
Enter Caeſar and his Train.
Bru.
The Games are done,
And Caeſar is returning.
Caſſi.
As they paſs by,
Pluck Caska by the Sleeve,
And he will (after his ſour faſhion) tell you
What hath proceeded worthy note to day.
Bru.
I will do ſo: But look you Caſſius,
The angry ſpot doth glow on Caeſars 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 croſt in Conference, by ſome Senators.
Caſſi.
Caska will tell us what the matter is.
Caeſ.
Antonio.
Ant.
Caeſar.
Caeſ.
Let me have men about me, that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and ſuch as ſleep a nights:
Yond Caſſius has a lean and hungry look,
He thinks too much: ſuch men are dangerous.
Ant.
Fear him not Caeſar, he's not dangerous,
He is a Noble Roman, and well given.
Caeſ.
Would he were fatter; But I fear him not:
Yet if my name were lyable 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 Muſick;
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 hearts eaſe,
Whiles they behold a greater then themſelves,
And therefore are they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,
Then what I fear: for always I am Caeſar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly, what thou think'ſt of him.
Sennit.
Exeunt Caeſar and his Train.
Cask.
You pull'd me by the Cloak, would you ſpeak with me?
Bru.
I Caska, tell us what hath chanc'd to day
That Caeſar looks ſo ſad.
Cask.
Why you were with him, were you not?
Bru.
I ſhould not then ask Caska what had chanc'd.
Cask.
Why, there was a Crown offer'd him; and being offer'd him, he put
it by with the back of his hand thus, and then the people fell a ſhouting.
Bru.
What was the ſecond noyſe for?
Cask.
Why, for that too.
Caſſi.
They ſhouted thrice, what was the laſt cry for?
Cask.
Why, for that too.
Bru.
Was the Crown offer'd him thrice?
Cask.
I marry was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler then other;
and at every putting by, mine honeſt Neighbours ſhouted.
Caſſi.
Who offer'd him the Crown?
Cask.
Why, Antony.
Bru.
Tell us the manner of it, gentle Caska.
Caska.
I can as well be hang'd as tell the manner of it: It was meer 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 refus'd it, the rabblement howted,
and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw up their ſweaty Night-caps, and uttered
ſuch a deal of ſtinking breath, becauſe Caeſars refus'd the Crown, that it
had (almoſt) choaked Caeſar: For he ſwounded, and fell down at it: And for
my own part, I durſt not laugh, for fear of opening my Lips, and receiveing
the bad Air.
Caſſi.
But ſoft I pray you: what, did Caeſar ſwound?
Cask.
He fell down in the Market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was
ſpeechleſs.
Bru.
'Tis very like he hath the Falling-ſickneſs.
Caſſi.
No, Caeſar hath it not: but▪ you, and I,
And honeſt Caska, we have the Falling-ſickneſs.
Cask.
I know not what you mean by that, but I am ſure Caeſar fell down.
If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiſs him, according as he pleas'd,
and diſpleas'd them, as they uſe to do the Players in the Theatre, I am no true
man.
Bru.
What ſaid he, when he came unto himſelf?
Cask.
Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the Common
Herd was glad he refus'd the Crown, he pluckt me ope his Doublet, and
offer'd them his Throat to cut, and 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 deſir'd their Worſhips to think it was his
infirmity. Three or Four Wenches where I ſtood, cryed, Alaſs good Soul,
and forgave him with all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of
them: if Caeſar had ſtab'd their Mothers, they would have done no leſs.
Bru.
And after that, he came thus ſad away.
Cask.
I.
Caſſi.
Did Cicero ſay any thing?
Cask.
I, he ſpoke Greek.
Caſſi.
To what effect?
Cask.
Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're look you r'th' face again. But
thoſe that underſtood him, ſmil'd at one another, and ſhook their heads: but
for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Murrellus
and Flavius, for pulling Scarfs off Caeſar Images, are put to ſilence.
Fare you well. There was more Foolery yet, if I could remember it.
Caſſi.
Will you ſupp with me to Night, Caska?
Cask.
No, I am promis'd forth.
Caſſi.
Will you dine with me to morrow?
Cask.
I, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your Dinner worth the
eating.
Caſſi.
Good, I will expect you.
Cask.
Do ſo: farewell both.
Exit.
Brut.
What a blunt fellow is this grown to be?
He was quick Mettle when he went to School.
Caſſi.
So he is now, in execution
Of any bold, or Noble Enterprize,
However he puts on this tardy form:
This Rudeneſs is a Sawce to his good Wit,
Which gives men ſtomack to diſgeſt his words
With better Appetite.
Brut.
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.
Caſſi.
I will do ſo: till then, think of the World.
Exit. Brutus.
Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I ſee,
Thy Honourable Mettle may be wrought
From that it is diſpos'd: therefore it is meet,
That Noble minds keep ever with their likes:
For who ſo firm, that cannot be ſeduc'd?
Caeſar 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
Caeſars Ambition ſhall be glanced at.
And after this, let Caeſar ſeat him ſure,
For we will ſhake him, or worſe days endure.
Exit.
Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska,
and Trebonius.
Treb.
Good even, Caska: brought you Caeſar home?
Why are you breathleſs, and why ſtare you ſo?
Cask.
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 thy knotty Oaks, & I have ſeen
Th'ambitious Ocean ſwell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threatning 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 ſawcy with the Gods,
Incenſes them to ſend deſtruction.
Treb.
Why, ſaw you any thing more wonderful?
Cask.
A common ſlave, you know him well by ſight,
Held up his left Hand, which did flame and burn
Like twenty Torches joyn'd, and yet his Hand,
Not ſenſible of fire, remain'd unſcorch'd.
Beſides, I ha' not ſince put up my Sword,
Againſt the Capitol I met a Lyon,
Who glaz'd upon me, and went ſurly by,
Without anoying me. And there were drawn
Upon a heap, a hundred gaſtly Women,
Transform'd 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,
Howting, and ſhreeking. When theſe Prodigies
Do ſo conjoyntly 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.
Treb.
Indeed, it is a ſtrange diſpoſed time:
But men may conſtrue things after their faſhion,
Clean from the purpoſe of the things themſelves.
Comes Caeſar to the Capitol to morrow?
Cask.
He doth: for he did bid Antonio
Send word to you, he would be there to morrow.
Treb.
Good-night then, Caska:
This diſturbed Sky is not to walk in.
Cask.
Farewell Trebonius.
Exit Cicero.
Enter Caſſius.
Caſſi.
Who's there?
Cask.
A Roman.
Caſſi.
Caska, by your Voyce.
Cask.
Your Ear is good.
Caſſius, what Night is this?
Caſſi.
A very pleaſing Night to honeſt men.
Cask.
Who ever knew the Heavens menace ſo?
Caſſi.
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, Caska, as you ſee,
Have bar'd my Boſom to the Thunder-ſtone:
And when the croſs blew Lightning ſeem'd to open
The Breaſt of Heaven, I did preſent my ſelf
Even in the aim, and very flaſh of it.
Cask.
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 Heraulds, to aſtoniſh us.
Caſſi.
You are dull, Caska:
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 your ſelf 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 (Caska) name to thee a man,
Moſt like this dreadful Night,
That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graves, and roars,
As doth the Lyon in the Capitol:
A man no mightier then thy ſelf, or me,
In perſonal action; yet prodigious grown,
And fearfull, as theſe ſtrange eruptions are.
Cask.
'Tis Caeſar that you mean:
Is it not, Caſſius?
Caſſi.
Let it be who it is: for Romans now
Have Thewes, 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 yoak, and ſufferance ſhew us Womaniſh.
Cask.
Indeed, they ſay, the Senators to morrow
Mean to eſtabliſh Caeſar as a King:
And he ſhall wear his Crown by Sea, and Land,
In every place, ſave here in Italy.
Caſſi.
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 air-leſs Dungeon, nor ſtrong Links of Iron,
Can be retentive to the ſtrength of ſpirit:
But Life being weary of theſe worldly Barrs,
Never lacks power to diſmiſs it ſelf.
If I know this, know all the World beſides,
That part of Tyranny that I do bear,
I can ſhake off at pleaſure.
Thunder ſtill.
Cask.
So can I:
So every Bond-man in his own hand bears
The power to cancell his Captivity.
Caſſ.
And why ſhould Caeſar be a Tyrant then?
Poor man, I know he would not be a Wolf,
But that he ſees the Romans are but Sheep:
He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hinds.
Thoſe that with haſte will make a mighty fire,
Begin it with weak Straws. What traſh is Rome?
What Rubbiſh, and what Offal? when it ſerves
For the baſe matter, to illuminate
So vile a thing as Caeſar. But oh Grief,
Where haſt thou led me? I (perhaps) ſpeak this
Before a willing Bond-man: then I know
My anſwer muſt be made. But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent.
Cask.
You ſpeak to Caska, and to ſuch a man,
That is no flearing 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 fartheſt.
Caſſ.
There's a Bargain made.
Now know you, Caska, I have mov'd already
Some certain of the Nobleſt minded Romans
To undergo, with me, an Enterprize,
Of Honourable dangerous conſequence;
And I do know by this, they ſtay for me
In Pompeys Porch: for now this fearful Night,
There is no ſtir, or walking in the ſtreets;
And the Complexion of the Element
Is Favours, like the Work we have in hand,
Moſt bloody, fiery, and moſt terrible.
Enter Cinna.
Caska.
Stand cloſe a while, for here comes one in haſte.
Caſſ.
'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his Gate,
He is a friend. Cinna, where haſte you ſo?
Cinna.
To find out you: Who's that, Metellus Cymber?
Caſſ.
No, it is Caska, one incorporate
To our Attempts. Am I not ſtay'd for, Cinna?
Cinna.
I am glad on't.
What a fearful Night is this?
There's two or three of us have ſeen ſtrange ſights.
Caſſ.
Am I not ſtay'd for? tell me.
Cinna.
Yes, you are. O Caſſius,
If you could but win the Noble Brutus
To our party—
Caſſi.
Be you content. Good Cinna, take this Paper,
And look you lay it in the Pretors 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 Pompeys Porch, where you ſhall find us.
Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
Cinna.
All, but Metellus Cymber, and he's gone
To ſeek you at your houſe. Well, I will hie,
And ſo beſtow theſe Papers as you bad me.
Caſſi.
That done, repair to Pompeys Theatre.
Exit Cinna.
Come Caska, 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.
Cask.
O, he ſits high in all the Peoples hearts:
And that which would appear Offence in us,
His Countenance, like richeſt Alchymie,
Will change to Vertue, and to Worthineſs.
Caſſi.
Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You have right well conceited: let us go,
For it is after Mid-night, and ere day,
We will awake him, and be ſure of him.
Exeunt.
Actus Secundus.
Enter Brutus in his Orchard.
Brut.
What Lucius, ho?
I cannot, by the progreſs of the Stars,
Give gueſs how near to day-Lucius, I ſay?
I would it were my fault to ſleep ſo ſoundly.
When, Lucius, when? awake, I ſay: what Lucius?
Enter Lucius.
Luc.
Call'd you, my Lord?
Brut.
Get me a Taper in my Study, Lucius:
When it is lighted come and call me here.
Luc.
I will, my Lord.
Exit.
Brut.
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▪
Th'abuſe of Greatneſs, is, when it diſ-joyns
Remorſe from Power: And to ſpeak truth of Caeſar,
I have not known, when his Affections ſway'd
More then his Reaſon. But 'tis a common proof,
That Lowlineſs is young Ambitions Ladder,
Whereto the Climber upward turns his Face:
But when he once attains the upmoſt Round,
He then unto the Ladder turns his Back,
Looks in the Clouds, ſcorning the baſe degrees
By which he did aſcend: ſo Caeſar may;
Then leaſt 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 Serpents Egg,
Which hatch'd, would as his kind grow miſchievous;
And kill him in the ſhell.
Enter Lucius.
Luc.
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 lye there when I went to Bed.
Gives him the Letter.
Brut.
Get you to Bed again, it is not day:
Is not to morrow (Boy) the firſt of March?
Luc.
I know not, Sir▪
Brut.
Look in the Calender, and bring me word.
Luc.
I will, Sir.
Exit.
Brut.
The exhalations, whizzing in the air,
Give ſo much light, that I may read by them.
Opens the Letter, and reads.
Brutus, thou ſleep'ſt; awake, and ſee thy ſelf:
Shall Rome, &c. ſpeak, ſtrike, redreſs,
Brutus, thou ſleep'ſt: awake,
Such inſtigations have been often dropt,
Where I have took them up:
Shall Rome, &c. Thus muſt I piece it out,
Shall Rome ſtand under one mans 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 receiveſt
Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus.
Enter Lucius
Luc.
Sir, March is waſted Fifteen days.
Knock within.
Brut.
'Tis good. Go to the Gate, ſome body knocks,
Since Caſſius firſt did whet me againſt Caeſar,
I have not ſlept.
Between the acting of a dreadful thing,
And the firſt motion, all the Interim is
Like a Phantaſma, or a hideous Dream:
The Genius, and the mortal Inſtruments
Are then in councell; and the ſtate of a man,
Like to a little Kingdom, ſuffers then
The nature of an Inſurrection.
Enter Lucius.
Luc.
Sir, 'tis your Brother Caſſius at the Door,
Who doth deſire to ſee you.
Brut.
Is he alone?
Luc.
No, Sir, there are moe with him.
Brut.
Do you know them?
Luc.
No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Ears,
And half their Faces buried in their Cloaks,
That by no means I may diſcover them,
By any mark of favour.
Brut.
Let 'em enter:
They are the Faction. O Conſpiracy,
Sham'ſt thou to ſhew thy dang'rous Brow by Night▪
When evils are moſt free? O then, by day
Where wilt thou find a Cavern dark enough,
To mask thy monſtrous Viſage? Seek none Conſpiracy,
Hide it in Smiles, and Affability:
For if thou path thy Native ſemblance on,
Not Erebus it ſelf were dim enough,
To hide thee from prevention.
Enter the Conſpirators Caſſius, Caska, Decius, Cinna,
Metellus, and Trebonius.
Caſſ.
I think we are too bold upon your Reſt:
Good morrow Brutus, do we trouble you?
Brut.
I have been up this hour, awake all Night
Know I theſe men, that come along with you?
Caſſ.
Yes, every man of them; and no man here
But honours you: and every one doth wiſh,
You had but that opinion of your ſelf,
Which every Noble Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.
Brut.
He is welcome hither.
Caſſ.
This, Decius Brutus.
Brut.
He is welcome too.
Caſſ.
This, Caska; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cymber.
Brut.
They are all wellcome.
What watchful Cares do interpoſe themſelves.
Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?
Caſſ.
Shall I intreat a word?
They whiſper:
Decius.
Here lyes the Eaſt: doth not the Day break here?
Cask.
No.
Cin.
O pardon, Sir, it doth, and you grey Lines,
That fret the Clouds, are Meſſengers of Day.
Cask.
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.
Bru.
Give me your hands all over, one by one.
Caſ.
And let us ſwear our Reſolution.
Bru.
No, not an Oath: if not the Face of Men,
The Sufferance of our Souls, the times 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 ſteal 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,
Then ſecret Romans, that have ſpoke the Word,
And will not palter? And what other Oath
Than Honeſty to Honeſty ingag'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 vertue of our Enterprize,
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 paſt from him.
Caſ.
But what of Cicero? Shall we ſound him?
I think he will ſtand very ſtrong with us.
Cask.
Let us not leave him out.
Cin.
No, by no means.
Metel.
O let us have him! for his Silver Hairs
Will purchaſe us a good opinion:
And buy Mens Voyces, 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.
Bru.
O name him not; let us not break with him,
For he will never follow any thing
That other Men begin.
Caſ.
Then leave him out.
Cask.
Indeed, he is not fit.
Decius.
Shall no Man elſe be touch'd; but only Caeſar?
Caſ.
Decius well urg'd: I think it is not meet,
Mark Antony, ſo well belov'd of Caeſar,
Should out-live Caeſar, we ſhall find of him
A ſhrewd Contriver. And you know, his means
If he improve them, may well ſtretch ſo far
As to annoy us all: which to prevent,
Let Antony and Caeſar fall together.
Bru.
Our Courſe will ſeem too bloody, Caius Caſſius,
To cut the Head off, and then hack the Limbs:
Like Wrath in Death, and Envy, afterwards:
For Antony is but a Limb of Caeſar.
Let's be Sacrificers, but not Butchers, Caius:
We all ſtand up againſt the Spirit of Caeſar,
And in the Spirit of Men there is no Blood:
O that we then could come by Caeſar's Spirit,
And not diſmember Caeſar! But (alas!)
Caeſar muſt bleed for it. And gentle Friends,
Let's kill him Boldly, but not Wrathfully:
Let's carve him, as a Diſh fit for the Gods,
Not hew him as a Carkaſs 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 Caeſar's arm,
When Caeſar's Head is off.
Caſ.
Yet I fear him,
For in the ingrafted Love he bears to Caeſar.
Bru.
Alas! good Caſſius, do not think of him:
If he love Caeſar, all that he can do
Is to himſelf; take thought, and dye for Caeſar;
And that were much he ſhould; for he is given
To Sports, to Wildneſs, and much Company.
Treb.
There is no fear in him; let him not dye,
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.
Clock ſtrikes.
Bru.
Peace, count the Clock.
Caſ.
The Clock hath ſtricken Three.
Treb.
'Tis time to part.
Caſſ.
But it is doubtful yet,
Whether Caeſar will come forth to day, or no:
For he is Superſtitious grown of late,
Quite from the main Opinion he held once,
Of Fantaſie, of Dreams, and Ceremonies:
It may be, theſe apparent Prodigies,
The unaccuſtom'd Terror of this Night,
And the Perſwaſion of his Augurers,
May hold him from the Capitol to day.
Decius.
Never fear that: if he be ſo reſolv'd,
I can o're-ſway him: For he loves to hear,
That Unicorns may be betray'd with Trees,
And Bears with Glaſſes, Elephants with Holes,
Lyons with Toyls, 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.
Caſ.
Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
Bru.
By the eighth Hour, is that the uttermoſt?
Cin.
Be that the uttermoſt: and fail not then.
Met.
Caius Ligarius doth bear Caeſar hard,
Who rated him for ſpeaking well of Pompey,
I wonder none of you have thought of him.
Bru.
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.
Caſ.
The Morning comes upon's:
We'll leave you, Brutus,
And Friends diſperſe your ſelves; but all remember
What you have ſaid, and ſhew your ſelves true Romans.
Bru.
Good Gentlemen, look freſh and merrily.
Let not our Looks put on our Purpoſes,
But bear it as our Roman Actors do,
With untyr'd Spirits, and formal Conſtancy.
And ſo good morrow to you every one.
Exeunt.
Manet Brutus.
Boy: Lucius: Faſt aſleep? It is no matter,
Enjoy the honey-heavy Dew of Slumber:
Thou haſt no Figures, nor no Fantaſies,
Which buſie Care draws in the Brains of Men;
Therefore thou ſleep'ſt ſo ſound.
Enter Portia.
Por.
Brutus, my Lord.
Bru.
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.
Por.
Nor for yours neither. Y'have ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my Bed: and yeſternight at Supper
You ſuddenly aroſe, and walk'd about,
Muſing, and fighing, with your arms a croſs:
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 Wafter of your hand,
Gave ſign for me to leave you; So I did,
Fearing to ſtrengthen that Impatience
Which ſeem'd too much inkindled; 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.
Bru.
I am not well in Health, and that is all.
Por.
Brutus is wiſe, and were he not in Health,
He would embrace the means to come by it.
Bru.
Why ſo I do: good Portia go to bed.
Por.
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 wholſome 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 Vertue 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
〈◊〉
you are heavy, and what Men to night
〈◊〉
had Reſort to you; for here have been
〈◊〉
ſix or ſeven, who did hide their Faces
〈◊〉
from darkneſs.
Bru.
Kneel not, gentle Portia.
Por.
I ſhould not need, if you were gentle Brutus▪
Within the Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus.
Is it excepted, I ſhould know no Secrets
That appertain to you? Am I your Self,
But as it were in Sort, or Limitation?
To keep with you at Meals, comfort your Bed,
And talk to you ſometimes? Dwell I but in the Suburbs
Of your good Pleaſure? If it be no more,
Portia is Brutus Harlot, not his Wife.
Bru.
You are my true and honourable Wife,
As dear to me, as are the ruddy Drops
That viſit my ſad Heart.
Por.
If this were true, then ſhould I know this Secret.
I grant I am a Woman; but withall,
A Woman that Lord Brutus took to Wife:
I grant I am a Woman; but withall,
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 my ſelf a voluntary Wound
Here, in the Thigh: Can I bear that with Patience,
And not my Husband's Secrets?
Bru.
O ye Gods!
Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.
Knock.
Hark, hark, one knocks: Portia go in a while,
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.
Exit. Portia.
Enter Lucius and Ligarius.
Lucius,
Who's that knocks?
Luc.
Here is a ſick Man that would ſpeak with you.
Bru.
Caius Ligarius, that Metellus ſpake of.
Boy, ſtand aſide. Caius Ligarius, how?
Cai.
Vouchſafe Good Morrow from a feeble Tongue.
Bru.
O what a time have you choſe our, brave Caius▪
To wear a Kerchief? Would you were not ſick.
Cai.
I am not ſick if Brutus have in hand
Any Exploit worthy the Name of Honour.
Brut.
Such an Exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you a healthful Ear to hear of it.
Cai.
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?
Bru.
A piece of Work,
That will make ſick Men whole.
Cai.
But are not ſome whole, that we muſt make ſick?
Bru.
That muſt we alſo. What it is, my Caius,
I ſhall unfold to thee, as we are going,
To whom it muſt be done.
Cai.
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.
Bru.
Follow me then.
Thunder.
Exeunt.
Thunder and Lightning.
Enter Julius Caeſar in his Night-Gown.
Caeſar.
Nor Heaven, nor Earth,
Have been at Peace to night:
Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her ſleep cryed out;
Help, ho: They murther Caeſar. Who's within?
Enter a Servant.
Ser.
My Lord.
Caeſ.
Go bid the Prieſts do preſent Sacrifice,
And bring me their Opinions of Succeſs.
Ser.
I will, my Lord.
Exit.
Enter Calphurnia.
Cal.
What mean you Caeſar, think you to walk forth?
You ſhall not ſtirr out of your houſe to day.
Caeſ.
Caeſar ſhall forth; the things that threaten'd me,
Ne're look'd but on my Back: When they ſhall ſee
The Face of Caeſar, they are vaniſhed.
Calp.
Caeſar, I never ſtood on Ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me: There is one within,
Beſides the things that we have heard and ſeen,
Recounts moſt horrid Sights ſeen by the Watch.
A Lioneſs hath whelped in the Streets,
And Graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead
Fierce fiery Warriours fight upon the Clouds
In Ranks and Squadrons, and right form of War,
Which drizel'd Blood upon the Capitol:
The noiſe of Battel hurtled in the Air;
Horſes do neigh, and dying Men did groan,
And Ghoſts did ſhriek and ſqueal about the Streets.
O Caeſar, theſe things are beyond all uſe,
And I do fear them.
Caeſ.
What can be avoided
Whoſe End is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet Caeſar ſhall go forth: for theſe Predictions
Are to the World in general, as to Caeſar.
Calp.
When Beggars dye, there are no Comets ſeen,
The Heavens themſelves blaze forth the Death of Princes.
Caeſ.
Cowards dye many times before their Deaths,
The valiant never taſte of Death but once:
Of all the Wonders that I yet have heard,
It ſeems to me moſt ſtrange that Men ſhould fear,
Seeing that Death, a neceſſary End,
Will come when it will come.
Enter a Servant.
What ſay the Augurers?
Ser.
They would not have you to ſtir forth to day.
Plucking the Intrails of an Offering forth,
They could not find a Heart within the beaſt.
Caeſ.
The Gods do this in ſhame of Cowardiſe:
Caeſar ſhould be a Beaſt without a Heart
If he ſhould ſtay at home to day for fear;
No, Caeſar ſhall not; Danger knows full well,
That Caeſar is more dangerous than he.
We hear two Lyons litter'd in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible,
And Caeſar ſhall go forth.
Calp.
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.
Caeſ.
Mark Antony ſhall ſay I am not well,
And for thy Humour, I will ſtay at home.
Enter Decius.
Here's Decius Brutus, he ſhall tell them ſo.
Deci.
Caeſar, all hail: Good morrow worthy Caeſar,
I come to fetch you to the Senate-houſe.
Caeſ.
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.
Calp.
Say he is ſick.
Caeſ.
Shall Caeſar ſend a Lye?
Have I in Conqueſt ſtretch'd mine Arm ſo far,
To be afraid to tell Gray-beards the Truth;
Decius, go tell them, Caeſar will not come.
Deci.
Moſt mighty Caeſar, let me know ſome cauſe,
Leſt I be laugh'd at when I tell them ſo.
Caeſ.
The Cauſe is in my Will, I will not come,
That is enough to ſatisfie 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 dream'd to night, ſhe ſaw my Statue,
Which like a Fountain, with an hundred Spouts,
Did run pure Blood; and many luſty Romans
Came ſmiling, and did bath 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.
Deci.
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, Reliques, and Cogniſance.
This by Calphurnia's Dream is ſignified.
Caeſ.
And this way have you well expounded it.
Deci.
I have, when you have heard what I can ſay.
And know it now, the Senate have concluded
To give this day a Crown to mighty Caeſar.
If you ſhall ſend them word you will not come,
Their Minds may change. Beſides, it were a mock
Apt to be render'd, for ſome one to ſay,
Break up the Senate, till another time:
When Caeſar's Wiſe ſhall meet with better Dreams.
If Caeſar hide himſelf, ſhall they not whiſper
Loe Caeſar is afraid?
Pardon me Caeſar, for my dear, dear Love
To your Proceeding, bids me tell you this:
And Reaſon to my Love is liable.
Caeſ.
How fooliſh do your Fears ſeem now Calphurnia?
I am aſhamed I did yield to them.
Give me my Robe, for I will go.
Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Caska, Trebonius,
Cynna, and Publius.
And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
Pub.
Good morrow Caeſar.
Caeſ.
Welcome Publius.
What Brutus, are you ſtirr'd ſo early too?
Good morrow Caska; Caius Ligarius,
Caeſar was ne're ſo much your Enemy,
As that ſame Ague which hath made you lean.
What is't a Clock?
Bru.
Caeſar, 'tis ſtrucken Eight.
Caeſ.
I thank you for your Pains and Courteſie.
Enter Antony.
See, Antony that revels long a-nights
Is notwithſtanding up. Good morrow Antony.
Ant.
So to moſt Noble Caeſar.
Caeſ.
Bid them prepare within:
I am to blame to be thus waited for.
Now Cynna, now Metellus: what Trebonius,
I have an hours talk in ſtore for you;
Remember that you call on me to day;
Be near me, that I may remember you.
Treb.
Caeſar I will: and ſo near will I be,
That your beſt Friends ſhall with I had been further.
Caeſ.
Good Friends go in, and taſte ſome Wine with me,
And we (like Friends) will ſtraightway go together.
Bru.
That every like is not the ſame, O Caeſar,
The Heart of Brutus earns to think upon.
Exeunt.
Enter Artemidorus.
Caeſar, beware of Brutus, take beed of Caſſius; come not near Caska, have
an eye to Cynna, truſt not Trebonius, mark well Metellus Cymber, Decius
Brutus loves thee not: Thou haſt wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one
Mind in all theſe Men, and it is bent againſt Caeſar If thou beeſt not Immortal,
look about you. Security gives way to Conſpiracy. The mighty Gods
defend thee. Thy Lover, Artemidorus.
Here will I ſtand, till Caeſar paſs along,
And as a Suitor will I give him this:
My heart laments, that Vertue cannot live
Out of the teeth of Emulation.
If thou read this, O Caeſar, thou mayeſt live,
If not, the Fates with Traitors do contrive.
Exit.
Enter Portia and Lucius.
Por.
I prethee Boy, run to the Senate-houſe,
Stay not to anſwer me, but get thee gone.
Why doeſt thou ſtay?
Luc.
To know my Errand, Madam.
Por.
I would have had thee there and here agen
'Ere I can tell thee what thou ſhould'ſt do there:
O Conſtancy, be ſtrong upon my ſide.
Set a huge Mountain 'tween my Heart and Tongue:
I have a Mans Mind, but a Womans Might:
How hard it is for Women to keep Counſel.
Art thou here yet?
Luc.
Madam, what ſhould I do?
Run to the Capitol, and nothing elſe?
And ſo return to you, and nothing elſe?
Por.
Yes, bring me word Boy, if thy Lord look well,
For he went ſickly forth: and take good note
What Caeſar doth, what Sutors preſs to him.
Hark Boy, what Noiſe is that?
Luc.
I hear none, Madam.
Por.
Prithee liſten well:
I heard a buſsling Rumour like a Fray,
And the Wind brings it from the Capitol.
Luc.
Sooth Madam, I hear nothing.
Enter the Soothſayer.
Por.
Come hither Fellow, which way haſt thou been?
Sooth.
At mine own Houſe, good Lady,
Por.
What is't a Clock?
Sooth.
About the ninth hour Lady.
Por.
Is Caeſar yet gone to the Capitol?
Sooth.
Madam, not yet, I go to take my Stand.
To ſee him paſs on to the Capitol.
Por.
Thou haſt ſome Suit to Caeſar, haſt thou not?
Sooth.
That I have Lady, if it will pleaſe Caeſar
To be ſo good to Caeſar, as to hear me:
I ſhall beſeech him to befriend himſelf.
Por.
Why know'ſt thou any harm's intended towards him?
Sooth.
None that I know will be.
Much that I fear may chance:
Good morrow to you; here the ſtreet is narrow;
The throng that follows Caeſar at the heels,
Of Senators, of Praetors, common Sutors,
Will crowd a feeble man (almoſt) to Death;
I'll get me to a place more void, and there
Speak to great Caeſar as he comes along.
Exit.
Por.
I muſt go in:
Aye me! How weak a thing
The Heart of Woman is? O Brutus,
The Heavens ſpeed thee in thine enterprize.
Sure the Boy heard me: Brutus hath a ſuit
That Caeſar 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.
Exeunt.
Actus Tertius.
Flowriſh.
Enter Caeſar, Brutus, Caſſius, Caska, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius,
Cynna, Antony, Lepidus, Artimedorus, Publius,
and the Soothſayer.
Caeſ.
The Ides of March are come.
Sooth.
I Caeſar, but not gone.
Art.
Hail Caeſar: Read this Scedule.
Deci.
Trebonius doth deſire you to o're-read
(At your beſt leiſure) this his humble ſuit.
Art.
O Caeſar, read mine firſt: for mine's a ſuit
That touches Caeſar nearer. Read it great Caeſar.
Caeſ.
What touches us our ſelf, ſhall be laſt ſerv'd.
Art.
Delay not Caeſar, read it inſtantly.
Caeſ.
What, is the Fellow mad?
Pub.
Sirrah, give place.
Caſſi.
What, urge you your Petitions in the Street?
Come to the Capitol.
Popil.
I wiſh your Enterprize day may thrive.
Caſſi.
What Enterprize, Popillius?
Popil.
Fare you well.
Bru.
What ſaid Popillius Len
•
?
Caſſi.
He wiſht to day our Enterprize might thrive:
I fear our Purpoſe is diſcovered.
Bru.
Look how he makes to Caeſar; mark him.
Caſſi.
Caska be ſudden, for we fear Prevention.
Brutus, what ſhall be done? If this be known,
Caſſius or Caeſar never ſhall turn back,
For I will ſlay my ſelf.
Bru.
Caſſius be conſtant:
Popillius Len
•
ſpeaks not of our Purpoſes,
For look he ſmiles, and Caeſar doth not change.
Caſſi.
Trebonius knows his time: for look you Brutus,
He draws Mark Antony out of the way.
Deci.
Where is Metellus Cymber, let him go,
And preſently prefer his ſuit to Caeſar.
Bru.
He is addreſt: preſs near, and ſecond him.
Cin.
Caska, you are the firſt that rears your hand.
Caeſ.
Are we all ready? What is now amiſs,
That Caeſar and his Senate muſt redreſs?
Metel.
Moſt high, moſt mighty, and moſt puiſſant Caeſar,
Metellus Cymber throws before thy Seat
An humble Heart.
Caeſ.
I muſt prevent thee Cymber:
Theſe Couchings, and theſe lowly Courteſies
Might fire the Blood of ordinary Man,
And turn pre-Ordinance, and firſt Decree,
Into the Lane of Children. Be not fond
To think that Caeſar bears ſuch Rebel-blood
That will be thaw'd from the true Quality
With that which melteth Fools, I mean ſweet words,
Low-crooked-curteſies, and baſe Spaniel Fawning:
Thy Brother by decree is baniſhed:
If thou doeſt bend, and pray, and fawn for him,
I ſpurn thee like a Curr out of my way:
Know, Caeſar doth not wrong, nor without cauſe
Will he be ſatisfied.
Metel.
Is there no Voice more worthy than my own▪
To ſound more ſweetly in great Caeſars ear,
For the repealing of my baniſh'd Brother?
Brut.
I kiſs thy hand, but not in flattery Caeſar:
Deſiring thee, that Publius Cymber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
Caeſ.
What Brutus?
Caſſi.
Pardon Caeſar: Caeſar pardon:
As low as to thy foot doth Caſſius fall,
To beg infranchiſement for Publius Cymber.
Caeſ.
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 fixt, and reſting quality,
There is no fellow in the Firmament.
The Skies are painted with unnumbred 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 unaſſaylable holds on his Rank,
Unſhak'd of Motion: and that I am he,
Let me a little ſhew it, even in this:
That I was conſtant Cymber ſhould be baniſh'd,
And conſtant do remain to keep him ſo.
Cinna.
O Caeſar.
Caeſ.
Hence: Wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Decius.
Great Caeſar.
Caeſ.
Doth not Brutus bootleſs kneel?
Cask.
Speak hands for me.
They ſtab Caeſar.
Caeſ.
Et tu Brute?—Then fall Caeſar.
Dyes.
Cin.
Liberty, Freedom; Tyranny is dead,
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the Streets.
Caſſi.
Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out
Liberty, Freedom, and Enfranchiſement.
Brut.
People and Senators, be not affrighted;
Fly not, ſtand ſtill: Ambitions debt is paid.
Cask.
Go to the Pulpit Brutus.
Dec.
And Caſſius too.
Brut.
Where's Publius?
Cin.
Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
Met.
Stand faſt together, leſt ſome Friend of Caeſars Should chance—
Brut.
Talk not of ſtanding. Publius, good cheer,
There is no harm intended to your perſon,
Nor to no Roman elſe: ſo tell them Publius.
Caſſi.
And leave us Publius, leſt that the people
Ruſhing on us, ſhould do your Age ſome miſchief.
Brut.
Do ſo, and let no man abide this deed,
But we the Doers.
Enter Trebonius.
Caſſi.
Where is Antony?
Treb.
Fled to his Houſe amaz'd:
Men, Wives, and Children, ſtare, cry out, and run,
As it were Doomſday.
Bru.
Fates, we will know your pleaſures:
That we ſhall dye we know, 'tis but the time
And drawing days out, that men ſtand upon.
Cask.
Why he that cuts off twenty years of life,
Cuts off ſo many years of fearing death.
Bru.
Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
So are we Caeſars Friends, that have abrig'd
His time of fearing death. Stoop Romans, ſtoop,
And let us bath our hands in Caeſars blood
Up to the Elbows, and beſmear our Swords:
Then walk we forth, even to the Market place
And waving our red Weapons o're our heads,
Let's all cry Peace, Freedom, and Liberty.
Caſſi.
Stoop then, and waſh. How many Ages hence
Shall this our lofty Scene be acted over,
In State unborn, and Accents yet unknown?
Bru.
How many times ſhall Caeſar bleed in ſport?
That now on Pompeys Baſis lye along,
No worthyer then the duſt?
Caſſ.
So oft as that ſhall be,
So often ſhall the knot of us be call'd,
The Men that gave their Country Liberty.
Dec.
What, ſhall we forth?
Caſſ.
I, every man away.
Brutus ſhall lead, and we will grace his heels
With the moſt boldeſt, and beſt hearts of Rome.
Enter a Servant.
Bru.
Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antonys.
Ser.
Thus Brutus did my Maſter bid me kneel;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down,
And being proſtrate, thus he bad me ſay:
Brutus is Noble, Wiſe, Valiant, and Honeſt;
Caeſar was Mighty, Bold, Royal, and Loving:
Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him;
Say, I fear'd Caeſar, honour'd him, and lov'd him.
If Brutus will vouchſafe, that Antony
May ſafely come to him, and be reſolv'd
How Caeſar hath deſerv'd to lye in death,
Mark Antony ſhall not love Caeſar dead
So well as Brutus living; but will follow
The Fortunes and Affairs of Noble Brutus,
Through the hazards of this untrod State,
With all true Faith. So ſays my Maſter Antony.
Bru.
Thy Maſter is a Wiſe and Valiant Roman,
I never thought him worſe:
Tell him, ſo pleaſe him come unto this place
He ſhall be ſatisfied: and by my Honour
Depart untouch'd.
Ser.
Ile fetch him preſently.
Exit Servant.
Bru.
I know that we ſhall have him well to Friend.
Caſſi.
I wiſh we may: But yet have I a mind
That fears him much: and my miſgiving ſtill
Falls ſhrewdly to the purpoſe.
Enter Antony.
Bru.
But here comes Antony:
Welcome Mark Antony.
Ant.
O mighty Caeſar! Doſt thou lye 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 my ſelf, there is no hour ſo fit▪
As Caeſars deaths 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 yee, if you bear me hard,
Now, whil'ſt your purpled hands do reek and ſmoak,
Fulfill your pleaſure. Live a Thouſand years,
I ſhall not find my ſelf ſo apt to dye.
No place will pleaſe me ſo, no mean of death,
As here by Caeſar, and by you cut off,
The Choice and Maſter Spirits of this Age.
Bru.
O Antony! Beg not your death of us:
Though now we muſt appear bloody and cruel,
As by our hands, and this our preſent Act
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 pittifull.
And pitty to the general wrong of Rome,
As fire drives out fire, ſo pitty, pitty
Hath done this deed on Caeſar. For your part,
To you, our Swords have leaden points Mark Antony:
Our Arms in ſtrength of malice, and our hearts
Of Brothers temper, do receive you in,
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Caſſ.
Your voyce ſhall be as ſtrong as any mans,
In the diſpoſing of new Dignities.
Bru.
Only be patient, till we have appeas'd
The Multitude, beſide themſelves with fear,
And then, we will deliver you the cauſe,
Why I, that did love Caeſar when I ſtrook him,
Have thus proceeded.
Ant.
I doubt not of your Wiſdom.
Let each man render me his bloody hand.
Firſt Marcus Brutus will I ſhake with you;
Next Caius Caſſius do I take your hand;
Now Decius Brutus yours; now yours Metellus;
Yours Cinna; and my valiant Caska, 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 Caeſar, O 'tis true:
If then thy Spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee dearer then thy death,
To ſee thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes?
Moſt Noble, in the preſence of thy Coarſe,
Had I as many eyes, as thou haſt wounds,
Weeping as faſt as they ſtreamforth thy blood.
It would become me better, then to cloſe
In terms of Friendſhip with thine enemies.
Pardon me Julius, here waſt thou bay'd brave Hart,
Here did'ſt thou fall, and here thy Hunters ſtand
Sign'd in thy Spoil, and Crimſon'd in thy Lethee.
O World! thou waſt the Forreſt to this Hart,
And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee.
How like a Deer, ſtroken by many Princes,
Doſt thou here lye?
Caſſ.
Mark Antony,
Ant.
Pardon me Caius Caſſius:
The Enemies of Caeſar ſhall ſay this:
Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modeſty.
Caſſ.
I blame you not for praiſing Caeſar 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?
Ant.
Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed
Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caeſar.
Friends am I with you all, and love you all,
Upon this hope, that you ſhall give me Reaſons,
Why and wherein, Caeſar was dangerous.
Bru.
Or elſe were this a ſavage Spectacle,
Our Reaſons are ſo full of good regard,
That were you Antony, the Son of Caeſar,
You ſhould be ſatisfied.
Ant.
That's all I ſeek,
And am moreover ſutor, that I may
Produce his body to the Market place,
And in the Pulpit as becomes a Friend,
Speak in the Order of his Funerall.
Bru.
You ſhall Mark Antony.
Caſſi.
Brutus, a word with you:
You know not what you do; Do not conſent
That Antony ſpeak in his Funerall:
Know you how much the people may be mov'd
By that which he will utter?
Bru.
By your pardon:
I will my ſelf into the Pulpit firſt,
And ſhew the reaſon of our Caeſars death.
What Antony ſhall ſpeak, I will proteſt
He ſpeaks by leave, and by permiſſion:
And that we are contented Caeſar ſhall
Have all true Rites, and lawful Ceremonies,
It ſhall advantage more, then do us wrong.
Caſſi.
I know not what may fall, I like it not.
Bru.
Mark Antony, here take you Caeſars body:
You ſhall not in your Funerall ſpeech blame us,
But ſpeak all good you can deviſe of Caeſar,
And ſay you do't by our permiſſion:
Elſe ſhall you not have any hand at all
About his Funerall. And you ſhall ſpeak
In the ſame Pulpit whereto I am going,
After my ſpeech is ended.
Ant.
Be it ſo:
I do deſire no more.
Bru.
Prepare the body then, and follow us.
Exeunt.
Manet Antony.
O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of Earth:
That I am meek and gentle with theſe Butchers.
Thou art the Ruines 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 Propheſie,
(Which like dumb mouths do ope their Ruby lips,
To beg the voyce and utterance of my Tongue)
A Curſe ſhall light upon the limbs of men;
Domeſtick Fury, and fierce Civil ſtrife,
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy:
Blood and deſtruction ſhall be ſo in uſe,
And dreadfull Objects ſo familiar,
That Mothers ſhall but ſmile, when they behold
Their Infants quartered with the hands of War:
All pitty choak'd with cuſtom of fell deeds,
And Caeſars Spirit ranging for Revenge,
With Ate by his ſide, come hot from Hell,
Shall in theſe Confines with a Monarks voyce,
Cry havock, and let ſlip the Dogs of War,
That this foul deed, ſhall ſmell above the Earth
With Carrion men, groaning for Buriall.
Enter Octavio's Servant.
You ſerve Octavius Caeſar, do you not?
Ser.
I do Mark Antony.
Ant.
Caeſar did write for him to come to Rome.
Ser.
He did receive his Letters, and is coming,
And bid me ſay to you by word of mouth—
O Caeſar!
Ant.
Thy heart is big: get thee a-part and weep:
Paſſion I ſee is catching from mine eyes,
Seeing thoſe Beads of ſorrow ſtand in thine,
Began to water. Is thy Maſter coming?
Ser.
He lies to night within ſeven Leagues of Rome.
Ant.
Poſt back with ſpeed,
And tell him what hath chanc'd:
Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
No Rome of ſafety for Octavius yet,
Hye hence, and tell him ſo. Yet ſtay a while,
Thou ſhalt not back, till I have born this coarſe
Into the Market place: There ſhall I try
In my Oration, how the People take
The cruell iſſue of theſe bloody men;
According to the which` thou ſhalt diſcourſe
To young Octavius, of the ſtate of things.
Lend me your hand.
Exeunt.
Enter Brutus and goes into the Pulpit, and Caſſius,
with the Plebeians.
Ple.
We will be ſatisfied: let us be ſatisfied,
Bru.
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 publick Reaſons ſhall be rendred
Of Caeſars death.
1. Ple.
I will hear Brutus ſpeak:
2. I will hear Caſſius, and compare their Reaſons,
When ſeverally we hear them rendred.
3. The Noble Brutus is aſcended: Silence.
Bru.
Be patient till the laſt.
Romans, Countrey-men, 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 Caeſars, to him I ſay, that Brutus love to Caeſar, was no
leſs then his. If then that Friend demand, why Brutus roſe againſt Caeſar,
this is my anſwer: Not that I lov'd Caeſar leſs, but that I lov'd Rome more.
Had you rather Caeſar were living, and dye all Slaves; then that Caeſar were
dead, to live all Free-men? As Caeſar lov'd me, I weep for him; as he was
Fortunate, I rejoyce 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.
All.
None Brutus, none.
Brutus.
Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caeſar, then
you ſhall do to Brutus. The Queſtion of his death, is inroll'd in the Capitoll:
his Glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforc'd,
for which he ſuffered death.
Enter Mark Antony, with Caeſars body.
Here comes his Body, mourn'd 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 my ſelf, when it
ſhall pleaſe my Country to need my death.
All.
Live Brutus, live, live.
1. Bring him with Triumph home unto his houſe.
2. Give him a Statue with his Anceſtors.
3. Let him be Caeſar.
4. Caeſars better parts
Shall be Crown'd in Brutus.
1. We'll bring him to his Houſe,
With Showts and Clamors.
Bru.
My Country-men.
2. Peace, Silence, Brutus ſpeaks.
1. Peace ho.
Bru.
Good Countrymen, let me depart alone.
And (for my ſake) ſtay here with Antony:
Do grace to Caeſars Corps, and grace his Speech
Tending to Caeſars Glories, which Mark Antony
(By our permiſſion) is allow'd to make.
I do intreat you, not a man depart,
Save I alone till Antony have ſpoke.
Exit.
1. Stay ho, and let us hear Mark Antony
〈1 page duplicate〉
〈1 page duplicate〉
3. Let him go up into the publick Chair,
We'll hear him: Noble Antony go up.
Ant.
For Brutus ſake, I am beholding to you.
4. What does he ſay of Brutus?
3. He ſays, for Brutus ſake
He finds himſelf beholding to us all.
4. 'Twere beſt he ſpeak no harm of Brutus here?
1 This Caeſar was a Tyrant.
3. Nay that's certain:
We are bleſt that Rome is rid of him.
2. Peace, let us hear what Antony can ſay.
Ant.
You gentle Romans.
All.
Peace ho, let us hear him.
Ant.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your, ears,
I come to bury Caeſar, not to praiſe him:
The evil that men do, lives after them,
The good is oft enterred with their bones,
So let it be with Caeſar. The Noble Brutus,
Hath told you Caeſar was Ambitious:
If it were ſo it was a grievous Fault.
And grievouſly hath Caeſar 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 Caeſars Funerall,
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 Caeſar ſeem Ambitious?
When that the Poor have cry'd, Caeſar 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 Lupercall,
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 with-holds you then, to mourn for him?
O Judgment! thou art fled to brutiſh Beaſts,
And Men have loſt their Reaſon. Bear with me,
My heart is in the Coffin there with Caeſar,
And I muſt pauſe, till it come back to me.
1 Methinks there is much reaſon in his ſayings▪
2 If thou conſider rightly of the matter,
Caeſar has had great wrong.
3 Has he Maſters? I fear there will a worſe come in his place▪
4. Mark'd ye his words? he would not take the Crown,
Therefore 'tis certain, he was not Ambitious.
1. If it be found ſo, ſome will deer abide it.
2. Poor ſoul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
3. There's not a Nobler man in Rome then Antony.
4. Now mark him, he begins again to ſpeak.
Ant.
But yeſterday, the word of Caeſar might
Have ſtood againſt the World: Now lies he there,
And none ſo poor to do him reverence.
O Maſters! If I were diſpos'd to ſtin
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 my ſelf and you,
Then I will wrong ſuch Honourable men.
But here's a Parchment, with the Seal of Caeſar,
I found it in his Cloſet, 'tis his Will:
Let but the Commons hear this Teſtament:
(Which pardon me) I do not mean to read,
And they would go and kiſs dead Caeſars 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.
4. We'll hear the Will, read, it Mark Antony.
All.
The Will, the Will; we will hear Caeſars Will.
Ant.
Have patience gentle Friends, I muſt not read it.
It is not meet you know how Caeſar lov'd you:
You are not Wood, you are not Stones, but men:
And being men, hearing the Will of Caeſar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad;
'Tis good you know not that you are his Heirs,
For if you ſhould, O what will come of it?
4. Read the Will, we'll hear it Antony:
You ſhall read us the Will, Caeſars Will.
Ant.
Will you be patient? Will you ſtay a while?
I have o're-ſhot my ſelf to tell you of it,
I fear I wrong the Honourable men,
Whoſe Daggers have ſtab'd Caeſar: I do fear it.
4. They were Traitors: Honourable men?
All.
The Will, the Teſtament.
2 They were Villains, Murderers: the Will, read the Will.
Ant.
You will compell me then to read the Will:
Then make a Ring about the Corps of Caeſar,
And let me ſhew you him that made the Will:
Shall I deſcend? And will you give me leave?
All.
Come down.
2 Deſcend.
3 You ſhall have leave.
4 A Ring, ſtand round.
1 Stand from the Hearſe, ſtand from the Body.
2 Room for Antony, moſt Noble Antony.
Ant.
Nay preſs not ſo upon me, ſtand far off.
All.
Stand back: room, bear back.
Ant.
If you have tears, prepare to ſhed them now.
You all do know this Mantle I remember
The firſt time ever Caeſar put it on,
'Twas on a Summers Evening in his Tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii▪
Look, in this place ran Caſſius Dagger through:
See what a rent the envious Caska made:
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus ſtab'd,
And as he pluck'd his curſed Steel away:
Mark how the blood of Caeſar followed it,
As ruſhing out of doors, to be reſolv'd
If Brutus ſo unkindly knock'd or no:
For Brutus, as you know, was Caeſars Angel.
Judge, O ye Gods, how dearly Caeſar lov'd him.
This was the moſt unkindeſt cut of all.
For when the Noble Caeſar ſaw him ſtab,
Ingratitude, more ſtrong then Traitors arms,
Quite vanquiſh'd him: then burſt his Mighty heart,
And in his Mantle, Muffling up his face,
Even at the Baſe of Pompeys Statue
(Which all the while ran blood) great Caeſar fell.
O what a fall was there, my Countrymen?
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whil'ſt bloody Treaſon flouriſh'd over us.
O now you weep, and I perceive you feel
The dint of pitty: Theſe are gracious drops.
Kind Souls, what weep you, when you but behold
Our Caeſars Veſture wounded? Look you here,
Here is Himſelf, mar'd as you ſee with Traitors.
1 O pittyous ſpectacle!
2 O Noble Caeſar!
3 O woful day!
4 O Traitors, Villains!
1. O moſt bloody ſight!
2. We will be reveng'd: Revenge
About, ſeek, burn, fire, kill, ſlay,
Let not a Traitor live.
Ant.
Stay Countrymen.
1. Peace there, hear the Noble Antony.
2. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.
Ant.
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 publick leave to ſpeak of him;
For I have neither writ nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor Utterance, nor the power of Speech,
To ſtir mens Blood. I only ſpeak right on:
I tell you that, which you your ſelves do know,
Shew you ſweet Caeſars wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths
And bid them ſpeak for me: But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony,
Would ruffle up your Spirits, and put a Tongue
In every wound of Caeſar, that ſhould move
That ſtones of Rome, to riſe and Mutiny.
All.
We'll Mutiny.
1 We'll burn the houſe of Brutus.
3 Away then, come, ſeek the Conſpirators.
Ant.
Yet hear me Countrymen, yet hear me ſpeak.
All.
Peace ho, hear Antony, moſt Noble Antony.
Ant.
Why Friends, you go to do you know not what:
Wherein hath Caeſar thus deſerv'd your loves?
Alas you know not, I muſt tell you then:
You have forgot the Will I told you of.
All.
Moſt true, the Will, let's ſtay and hear the Will.
Ant.
Here is the Will, and under Caeſars Seal:
To every Roman Citizen he gives,
To every ſeveral man, ſeventy five Drachmaes.
2 Ple.
Moſt Noble Caeſar, we'll revenge his death.
3 Ple.
O Royal Caeſar▪
Ant.
Hear me with patience.
All.
Peace ho.
Ant.
Moreover, he hath left you all his Walks,
His private Arbors, and new-planted Orchards,
On this ſide Tyber, he hath left them you,
And to your Heirs for ever: common pleaſures
To walk abroad, and Recreate your ſelves.
Here was a Caeſar: when comes ſuch another?
1. Ple.
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.
2. Ple.
Go fetch fire.
3. Ple.
Pluck down Benches.
4. Ple.
Pluck down Forms, Windows, any thing.
Exeunt Plebians.
Ant.
Now let it work: Miſchief thou art a foot,
Take thou what courſe thou wilt.
How now Fellow?
Enter Servant.
Ser.
Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
Ant.
Where is he?
Ser.
He and Lepidus are at Caeſars houſe.
Ant.
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.
Ser.
I heard him ſay, Brutus and Cassius
Are rid like Madmen through the Gates of Rome.
Ant.
Belike they had ſome notice of the People,
How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius.
Exeunt.
Enter Cinna the Poet, and after him the Plebeians.
Cinna.
I dreamt to night, that I did feaſt with Caeſar.
And things unluckily charge my Fantaſie:
I have no will to wander forth of doors,
Yet ſomething leads me Forth.
1. What is your yame?
2. Whether are you going?
3. Where do you dwell?
4. Are you a married Man or a Batchellor?
2. Anſwer every man directly.
1. I, and briefly.
4. I, and wiſely.
3. I, and truly, you were beſt.
Cin.
What is my Name? Whither am I going? Where do I w
•
ll? Am
I a married man or a Batchellour? Then to anſwer every Man, directly and
briefly, wiſely and truly: wiſely I ſay, I am a Batchellor.
2. That's as much as to ſay, they are Foors that marry: you'll bear me a
Bang for that I fear: proceed directly.
Cinna.
Directly I am going to Caeſar's Funeral.
1. As a Friend, or an Enemy?
Cinna.
As a Friend.
2. That matter is anſwered directly.
4. For your dwelling; briefly.
Cinna.
Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.
3. Your Name Sir, truly.
Cinna.
Truly, my Name is Cinna.
1. Tear him to pieces, he's a Conſpirator.
Cinna.
I am Cinna the Poet, I am Cinna the Poet.
4. Tear him for his bad Verſes, tear him for his bad Verſes.
Cin.
I am not Cinna the Conſpirator.
4. It is no matter, his name's Cinna, pluck but his Name out of his Heart,
and turn him going.
3. Tear him, tear him; Come, Brands ho, Firebrands: to Brutus, to Caſſius,
burn all. Some to Decius Houſe, and ſome to Caska's; ſome to Ligarius.
Away, go.
Exeunt all the Plebeians.