Title: Julius Caesar

Author: William Shakespeare

Year: 1599

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ACT I

SCENE I. Rome. A street.

_Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners_

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?

What dost thou with thy best apparel on?

You, sir, what trade are you?

as you would say, a cobbler.

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

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

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.

Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

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

to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.

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 an 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.

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.

_Exeunt all the Commoners_

See whether their basest metal be not moved;

They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.

Go you down that way towards the Capitol;

If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.

You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

Be hung with Caesar'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 Caesar'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.

_Exeunt_

SCENE II. A public place.

_Flourish. Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer_

When he doth run his course. Antonius!

To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say,

The barren, touched in this holy chase,

Shake off their sterile curse.

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

_Flourish_

I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

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

_Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS_

Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;

I'll leave you.

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.

Be not deceived: 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 behaviors;

But let not therefore my good friends be grieved--

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.

By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

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

But by reflection, by some other things.

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 age's yoke,

Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

That you would have me seek into myself

For that which is not in me?

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.

_Flourish, and shout_

Choose Caesar for their king.

Then must I think you would not have it so.

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.

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 Caesar; 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,

Caesar said to me 'Darest 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 proposed,

Caesar cried '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 Tiber

Did I the tired Caesar. And this man

Is now become a god, and Cassius is

A wretched creature and must bend his body,

If Caesar 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.

_Shout. Flourish_

I do believe that these applauses are

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

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 Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'?

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 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 shamed!

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!

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

But it was famed 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

The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome

As easily as a king.

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 moved. 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.

Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.

And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you

What hath proceeded worthy note to-day.

_Re-enter CAESAR and his Train_

The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,

And all the rest look like a chidden train:

Calpurnia'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.

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.

He is a noble Roman and well given.

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 moved 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 Caesar.

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

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

_Sennet. Exeunt CAESAR and all his Train, but CASCA_

That Caesar looks so sad.

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

thus; and then the people fell a-shouting.

time gentler than other, and at every putting-by

mine honest neighbours shouted.

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 hooted and clapped their

chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps

and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because

Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked

Caesar; 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.

mouth, and was speechless.

And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness.

Caesar 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.

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 heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had

stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.

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

well. There was more foolery yet, if I could

remember it.

worth the eating.

_Exit_

He was quick mettle when he went to school.

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.

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.

_Exit BRUTUS_

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

Thy honourable metal may be wrought

From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet

That noble minds keep ever with their likes;

For who so firm that cannot be seduced?

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

Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at:

And after this let Caesar seat him sure;

For we will shake him, or worse days endure.

_Exit_

SCENE III. The same. A street.

_Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides, CASCA, with his sword drawn, and CICERO_

Why are you breathless? and why stare you so?

Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,

I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds

Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen

The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,

To be exalted with the threatening 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.

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 ha' not since put up my sword--

Against the Capitol I met a lion,

Who glared 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.

But men may construe things after their fashion,

Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.

Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow?

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

Is not to walk in.

_Exit CICERO_

_Enter CASSIUS_

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

Submitting me unto the perilous night,

And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,

Have bared 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.

It is the part of men to fear and tremble,

When the most mighty gods by tokens send

Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.

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 fool and children calculate,

Why all these things change from their ordinance

Their natures and preformed faculties

To monstrous quality,--why, you shall find

That heaven hath infused 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.

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.

Mean to establish Caesar as a king;

And he shall wear his crown by sea and land,

In every place, save here in Italy.

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 these 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.

_Thunder still_

So every bondman in his own hand bears

The power to cancel his captivity.

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 Caesar! 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.

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 farthest.

Now know you, Casca, I have moved 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.

He is a friend.

_Enter CINNA_

Cinna, where haste you so?

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

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

O Cassius, if you could

But win the noble Brutus to our party--

And look you lay it in the praetor'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?

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

And so bestow these papers as you bade me.

_Exit CINNA_

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.

And that which would appear offence in us,

His countenance, like richest alchemy,

Will change to virtue and to worthiness.

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.

_Exeunt_

ACT II

SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS's orchard.

_Enter BRUTUS_

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_

When it is lighted, come and call me here.

_Exit_

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 Caesar,

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 Caesar 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.

_Re-enter LUCIUS_

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.

_Gives him the letter_

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

_Exit_

Give so much light that I may read by them.

_Opens the letter and reads_

'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 receivest

Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!

_Re-enter LUCIUS_

_Knocking within_

_Exit LUCIUS_

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 council; and the state of man,

Like to a little kingdom, suffers then

The nature of an insurrection.

_Re-enter LUCIUS_

Who doth desire to see you.

And half their faces buried in their cloaks,

That by no means I may discover them

By any mark of favour.

_Exit LUCIUS_

They are the faction. O conspiracy,

Shamest 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.

_Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS_

Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?

Know I these men that come along with you?

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.

What watchful cares do interpose themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

_BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper_

That fret the clouds are messengers of day.

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.

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 engaged,

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 the 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.

I think he will stand very strong with us.

Will purchase us a good opinion

And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:

It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands;

Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,

But all be buried in his gravity.

For he will never follow any thing

That other men begin.

Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar,

Should outlive 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.

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 us 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 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 Caesar's arm

When Caesar's head is off.

For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar--

If he love Caesar, all that he can do

Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar:

And that were much he should; for he is given

To sports, to wildness and much company.

For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

_Clock strikes_

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 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.

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.

Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey:

I wonder none of you have thought of him.

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

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

And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember

What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.

Let not our looks put on our purposes,

But bear it as our Roman actors do,

With untired spirits and formal constancy:

And so good morrow to you every one.

_Exeunt all but BRUTUS_

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.

_Enter PORTIA_

It is not for your health thus to commit

Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.

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 stared upon me with ungentle looks;

I urged 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.

He would embrace the means to come by it.

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, yourself, your half,

Why you are heavy, and what men to-night

Have had to resort to you: for here have been

Some six or seven, who did hide their faces

Even from darkness.

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 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.

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

That visit my sad heart

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?

Render me worthy of this noble wife!

_Knocking within_

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.

_Exit PORTIA_

Lucius, who's that knocks?

_Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS_

Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how?

To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!

Any exploit worthy the name of honour.

Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.

I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome!

Brave son, derived from honourable loins!

Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured 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?

I shall unfold to thee, as we are going

To whom it must be done.

And with a heart new-fired I follow you,

To do I know not what: but it sufficeth

That Brutus leads me on.

_Exeunt_

SCENE II. CAESAR's house.

_Thunder and lightning. Enter CAESAR, in his night-gown_

Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out,

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

_Enter a Servant_

And bring me their opinions of success.

_Exit_

_Enter CALPURNIA_

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

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

The face of Caesar, they are vanished.

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 Caesar! these things are beyond all use,

And I do fear them.

Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?

Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions

Are to the world in general as to Caesar.

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

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.

_Re-enter Servant_

What say the augurers?

Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,

They could not find a heart within the beast.

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 are two lions litter'd in one day,

And I the elder and more terrible:

And Caesar shall go forth.

Your wisdom is consumed 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.

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

_Enter DECIUS BRUTUS_

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

I come to fetch you to the senate-house.

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.

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

To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth?

Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.

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

That is enough to satisfy the senate.

But for your private satisfaction,

Because I love you, I will let you know:

Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home:

She dreamt to-night she saw my statua,

Which, like a fountain with an 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.

It was a vision fair and fortunate:

Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,

In which so many smiling Romans bathed,

Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck

Reviving blood, and that great men shall press

For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance.

This by Calpurnia's dream is signified.

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 wife shall meet with better dreams.'

If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper

'Lo, Caesar is afraid'?

Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love

To our proceeding bids me tell you this;

And reason to my love is liable.

I am ashamed I did yield to them.

Give me my robe, for I will go.

_Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, and CINNA_

And look where Publius is come to fetch me.

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

Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,

Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy

As that same ague which hath made you lean.

What is 't o'clock?

_Enter ANTONY_

See! Antony, that revels long o' nights,

Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.

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.

_Aside_

and so near will I be,

That your best friends shall wish I had been further.

And we, like friends, will straightway go together.

The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon!

_Exeunt_

SCENE III. A street near the Capitol.

_Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper_

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 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 virtue cannot live

Out of the teeth of emulation.

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

If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.

_Exit_

SCENE IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of BRUTUS.

_Enter PORTIA and LUCIUS_

Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone:

Why dost thou stay?

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?

Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?

And so return to you, and nothing else?

For he went sickly forth: and take good note

What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.

Hark, boy! what noise is that?

I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,

And the wind brings it from the Capitol.

_Enter the Soothsayer_

To see him pass on to the Capitol.

To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,

I shall beseech him to befriend himself.

Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow:

The throng that follows Caesar at the heels,

Of senators, of praetors, common suitors,

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_

The heart of woman is! O Brutus,

The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!

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 severally_

ACT III

SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above.

_A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CAESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and others_

At your best leisure, this his humble suit.

That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar.

Come to the Capitol.

_CAESAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following_

_Advances to CAESAR_

I fear our purpose is discovered.

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

Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back,

For I will slay myself.

Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;

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

He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

_Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS_

And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.

That Caesar and his senate must redress?

Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat

An humble heart,--

_Kneeling_

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 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 court'sies 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, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause

Will he be satisfied.

To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear

For the repealing of my banish'd brother?

Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may

Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,

To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.

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,

Unshaked 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.

_CASCA first, then the other Conspirators and BRUTUS stab CAESAR_

_Dies_

Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.

'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!'

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

Should chance--

There is no harm intended to your person,

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

Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.

But we the doers.

_Re-enter TREBONIUS_

Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run

As it were doomsday.

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

And drawing days out, that men stand upon.

Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged

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

And let us bathe our hands in Caesar'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!'

Shall this our lofty scene be acted over

In states unborn and accents yet unknown!

That now on Pompey's basis lies along

No worthier than the dust!

So often shall the knot of us be call'd

The men that gave their country liberty.

Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels

With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.

_Enter a Servant_

Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down;

And, being prostrate, thus he bade 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 loved him.

If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony

May safely come to him, and be resolved

How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death,

Mark Antony shall not love Caesar 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.

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.

_Exit_

That fears him much; and my misgiving still

Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

_Re-enter ANTONY_

Welcome, Mark Antony.

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 Caesar's death 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 you 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 Caesar, and by you cut off,

The choice and master spirits of this age.

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 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.

In the disposing of new dignities.

The multitude, beside themselves with fear,

And then we will deliver you the cause,

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

Have thus proceeded.

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 last 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 than thy death,

To see thy thy Anthony 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 lethe.

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!

The enemies of Caesar shall say this;

Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.

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?

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.

Our reasons are so full of good regard

That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar,

You should be satisfied.

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.

_Aside to BRUTUS_

You know not what you do: do not consent

That Antony speak in his funeral:

Know you how much the people may be moved

By that which he will utter?

I will myself into the pulpit first,

And show the reason of our Caesar's 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 than do us wrong.

You shall not in your funeral 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 funeral: and you shall speak

In the same pulpit whereto I am going,

After my speech is ended.

I do desire no more.

_Exeunt all but ANTONY_

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 choked with custom of fell deeds:

And Caesar'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.

_Enter a Servant_

You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?

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

O Caesar!--

_Seeing the body_

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

Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,

Began to water. Is thy master coming?

Here 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 corse

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.

Lend me your hand.

_Exeunt with CAESAR's body_

SCENE II. The Forum.

_Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of Citizens_

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 Caesar's death.

When severally we hear them rendered.

_Exit CASSIUS, with some of the Citizens. BRUTUS goes into the pulpit_

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

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

was no less than his. If then that friend demand

why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer:

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

Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and

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

all free men? As Caesar 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.

Caesar 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.

_Enter ANTONY and others, with CAESAR's body_

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.

Shall be crown'd in Brutus.

With shouts and clamours.

And, for my sake, stay here with Antony:

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

Tending to Caesar'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.

_Exit_

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

_Goes into the pulpit_

He finds himself beholding to us all.

We are blest that Rome is rid of him.

I come to bury Caesar, 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 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 Caesar'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 Caesar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, 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 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 Caesar,

And I must pause till it come back to me.

Caesar has had great wrong.

I fear there will a worse come in his place.

Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious.

Have stood against the world; now lies he there.

And none so poor to do him reverence.

O masters, if I were disposed 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 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 Caesar'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.

It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.

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

And, being men, bearing 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 would come of it!

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

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

I fear I wrong the honourable men

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

Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar,

And let me show you him that made the will.

Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?

_ANTONY comes down_

You all do know this mantle: I remember

The first time ever Caesar 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 Caesar follow'd it,

As rushing out of doors, to be resolved

If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;

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

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

This was the most unkindest cut of all;

For when the noble Caesar 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 statua,

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,

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 Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here,

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

Let not a traitor live!

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 Caesar'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 Caesar that should move

The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.

Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?

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

You have forgot the will I told you of.

To every Roman citizen he gives,

To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.

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 Caesar! when comes such another?

We'll burn his body in the holy place,

And with the brands fire the traitors' houses.

Take up the body.

_Exeunt Citizens with the body_

Take thou what course thou wilt!

_Enter a Servant_

How now, fellow!

He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,

And in this mood will give us any thing.

Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.

How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius.

_Exeunt_

SCENE III. A street.

_Enter CINNA the poet_

And things unlucky charge my fantasy:

I have no will to wander forth of doors,

Yet something leads me forth.

_Enter Citizens_

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.

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

name out of his heart, and turn him going.

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

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

_Exeunt_

ACT IV

SCENE I. A house in Rome.

_ANTONY, OCTAVIUS, and LEPIDUS, seated at a table_

Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.

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

Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine

How to cut off some charge in legacies.

_Exit LEPIDUS_

Meet to be sent on errands: is it fit,

The three-fold world divided, he should stand

One of the three to share it?

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

In our black sentence and proscription.

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.

But he's a tried and valiant soldier.

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 abjects, orts and imitations,

Which, out of use and staled 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 combined,

Our best friends made, our means stretch'd

And let us presently go sit in council,

How covert matters may be best disclosed,

And open perils surest answered.

And bay'd about with many enemies;

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

Millions of mischiefs.

_Exeunt_

SCENE II. Camp near Sardis. Before BRUTUS's tent.

_Drum. Enter BRUTUS, LUCILIUS, LUCIUS, and Soldiers; TITINIUS and PINDARUS meeting them_

To do you salutation from his master.

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.

But that my noble master will appear

Such as he is, full of regard and honour.

How he received you, let me be resolved.

But not with such familiar instances,

Nor with such free and friendly conference,

As he hath used of old.

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?

The greater part, the horse in general,

Are come with Cassius.

_Low march within_

March gently on to meet him.

_Enter CASSIUS and his powers_

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

And when you do them--

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.

Bid our commanders lead their charges off

A little from this ground.

Come to our tent till we have done our conference.

Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.

_Exeunt_

SCENE III. Brutus's tent.

_Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS_

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.

That every nice offence should bear his comment.

Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;

To sell and mart your offices for gold

To undeservers.

You know that you are Brutus that speak this,

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

And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.

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.

I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,

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

Older in practise, abler than yourself

To make conditions.

Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?

Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

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.

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.

I said, an elder soldier, not a better:

Did I say 'better'?

I may do that I shall 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!

My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart:

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,

But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

As huge as high Olympus.

Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,

For Cassius is aweary of the world;

Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;

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

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 Caesar; for, I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better

Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.

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.

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,

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

When that rash humour which my mother gave me

Makes me forgetful?

When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,

He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

There is some grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet

They be alone.

_Enter Poet, followed by LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, and LUCIUS_

Love, and be friends, as two such men should be;

For I have seen more years, I'm sure, than ye.

What should the wars do with these jigging fools?

Companion, hence!

_Exit Poet_

Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

Immediately to us.

_Exeunt LUCILIUS and TITINIUS_

_Exit LUCIUS_

If you give place to accidental evils.

O insupportable and touching loss!

Upon what sickness?

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.

_Re-enter LUCIUS, with wine and taper_

In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup;

I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love.

_Exit LUCIUS_

_Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA_

Welcome, good Messala.

Now sit we close about this taper here,

And call in question our necessities.

Messala, I have here received letters,

That young Octavius and Mark Antony

Come down upon us with a mighty power,

Bending their expedition toward Philippi.

Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,

Have put to death an hundred senators.

Mine speak of seventy senators that died

By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.

And by that order of proscription.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.

With meditating that she must die once,

I have the patience to endure it now.

But yet my nature could not bear it so.

Of marching to Philippi presently?

'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, defense, and nimbleness.

The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground

Do stand but in a forced affection;

For they have grudged us contribution:

The enemy, marching along by them,

By them shall make a fuller number up,

Come on refresh'd, new-added, and encouraged;

From which advantage shall we cut him off,

If at Philippi we do face him there,

These people at our back.

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.

We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

And nature must obey necessity;

Which we will niggard with a little rest.

There is no more to say?

Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.

_Enter LUCIUS_

My gown.

_Exit LUCIUS_

Farewell, good Messala:

Good night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius,

Good night, and good repose.

This was an ill beginning of the night:

Never come such division 'tween our souls!

Let it not, Brutus.

_Exeunt all but BRUTUS_

_Re-enter LUCIUS, with the gown_

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'er-watch'd.

Call Claudius and some other of my men:

I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.

_Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS_

It may be I shall raise you by and by

On business to my brother Cassius.

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.

_VARRO and CLAUDIUS lie down_

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,

And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

I know young bloods look for a time of rest.

I will not hold thee long: if I do live,

I will be good to thee.

_Music, and a song_

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.

_Enter the Ghost of CAESAR_

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 makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?

Speak to me what thou art.

_Exit Ghost_

Now I have taken heart thou vanishest:

Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.

Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! Claudius!

Lucius, awake!

_To VARRO_

Fellow thou, awake!

Bid him set on his powers betimes before,

And we will follow.

_Exeunt_

ACT V

SCENE I. The plains of Philippi.

_Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their army_

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.

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.

_Enter a Messenger_

The enemy comes on in gallant show;

Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,

And something to be done immediately.

Upon the left hand of the even field.

_March_

_Drum. Enter BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and their Army; LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, and others_

Make forth; the generals would have some words.

Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart,

Crying 'Long live! hail, Caesar!'

The posture of your blows are yet unknown;

But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,

And leave them honeyless.

For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony,

And very wisely threat before you sting.

Hack'd one another in the sides of Caesar:

You show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds,

And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet;

Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind

Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers!

This tongue had not offended so to-day,

If Cassius might have ruled.

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 Caesar's three and thirty wounds

Be well avenged; or till another Caesar

Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.

Unless thou bring'st them with thee.

I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.

Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.

Join'd with a masker and a reveller!

Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth:

If you dare fight to-day, come to the field;

If not, when you have stomachs.

_Exeunt OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their army_

The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.

_BRUTUS and LUCILIUS converse apart_

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 steads 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.

For I am fresh of spirit and resolved

To meet all perils very constantly.

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?

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.

You are contented to be led in triumph

Thorough the streets of Rome?

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.

If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;

If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.

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!

_Exeunt_

SCENE II. The same. The field of battle.

_Alarum. Enter BRUTUS and MESSALA_

Unto the legions on the other side.

_Loud alarum_

Let them set on at once; for I perceive

But cold demeanor in Octavius' wing,

And sudden push gives them the overthrow.

Ride, ride, Messala: let them all come down.

_Exeunt_

SCENE III. Another part of the field.

_Alarums. Enter CASSIUS and TITINIUS_

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.

Who, having some advantage on Octavius,

Took it too eagerly: his soldiers fell to spoil,

Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed.

_Enter PINDARUS_

Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord

Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.

Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?

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 assured

Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.

_Exit_

My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,

And tell me what thou notest about the field.

_PINDARUS ascends the hill_

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?

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.

_Shout_

And, hark! they shout for joy.

O, coward that I am, to live so long,

To see my best friend ta'en before my face!

_PINDARUS descends_

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 Caesar'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.

_PINDARUS stabs him_

Caesar, thou art revenged,

Even with the sword that kill'd thee.

_Dies_

Durst I have done my will. O Cassius,

Far from this country Pindarus shall run,

Where never Roman shall take note of him.

_Exit_

_Re-enter TITINIUS with MESSALA_

Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,

As Cassius' legions are by Antony.

With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.

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.

O hateful error, melancholy's child,

Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men

The things that are not? O error, soon conceived,

Thou never comest unto a happy birth,

But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee!

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.

And I will seek for Pindarus the while.

_Exit MESSALA_

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 misconstrued 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.

_Kills himself_

_Alarum. Re-enter MESSALA, with BRUTUS, CATO, STRATO, VOLUMNIUS, and LUCILIUS_

Thy spirit walks abroad and turns our swords

In our own proper entrails.

_Low alarums_

Look, whether he have not crown'd dead Cassius!

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 Thasos 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.

_Exeunt_

SCENE IV. Another part of the field.

_Alarum. Enter fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and others_

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!

Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus!

_Exit_

Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius;

And mayst be honour'd, being Cato's son.

There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight;

_Offering money_

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

_Enter ANTONY_

Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.

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.

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 whether Brutus be alive or dead;

And bring us word unto Octavius' tent

How every thing is chanced.

_Exeunt_

SCENE V. Another part of the field.

_Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and VOLUMNIUS_

He came not back: he is or ta'en or slain.

It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.

_Whispers_

_Whispers_

That it runs over even at his eyes.

The ghost of Caesar 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.

Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;

Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

_Low alarums_

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.

_Alarum still_

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.

_Alarum. Cry within, 'Fly, fly, fly!'_

_Exeunt CLITUS, DARDANIUS, and VOLUMNIUS_

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?

_Runs on his sword_

Caesar, now be still:

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.

_Dies_

_Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and the army_

The conquerors can but make a fire of him;

For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man else hath honour by his death.

That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true.

Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?

That did the latest service to my master.

All the conspirators save only he

Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;

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!'

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.

_Exeunt_