Julius Caesar.  
A TRAGEDY. As it is Now ACTED AT THE Theatre Royal.  
WRITTEN By William Shakespeare.  
LONDON, Printed by H. H. Jun. for Hen. Heringman and R. Bentley in Russel-street in Covent-Garden, and sold by Joseph Knight and Francis Saunders at the Blue Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange in the Strand. 1684.   

Dramatis Personae.  
 JUlius Caesar By Mr. Goodman.  Octavius Caesar  Mr. Perin.  Antony  Mr. Rynnaston. Conspirators Brutus'  Mr. Betterton. Cassius  Mr. Smith. Caska  Mr. Griffin. Trebonius  Mr. Saunders. Ligarius  Mr. Bowman. Decius Brutus  Mr. Williams. Metellus Cimber  Mr. Montfort. Cinna  Mr. Carlisle.  Artimedorus  Mr. Percival.  Messala  Mr. Wiltshire.  And  And  Titinius  Mr. Gillo.  Cinna the Poet  Mr. Jevon.  Flavius  Mr. Norris.  Plebeians  Mr. Vnderhill.  Mr. Lee.  Mr. Bright. 
Women.  Calphurnia Madam Slingsby. Portia Mrs. Cook.  
Guards and Attendants.  
Scene ROME.   

THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CAESAR.  

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?  Cobls. 
Truly Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am but as you would say, a Cobbler.  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?  Cobls. 
Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out Sir, I can mend you.  Cas. 
What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy Fellow?  Cob. 
Why Sir, Cobble you.  Fla. 
Thou art a Cobbler, art thou?  Cob. 
Truly Sir, all that I live by is with the Awl: I meedle with no Tradesman's matters, nor women's matters; but withal 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.  Fla. 
But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?  
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?  Cob. 
Truly Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But indeed Sir, we make Holiday to see Caesar, and to rejoice in his Triumph.  Cas. 
Wherefore rejoice?  
What Conquest brings he home?  
What Tributaries follow him to Rome?  
To grace in Captive bonds his Chariot Wheels?  
You Blocks, you Stones, you worse than senseless things:  
O you hard hearts! you cruel men of Rome;  
Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft?  
Have you climbed 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.  Fla. 
Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault  
Assemble all the poor men of your sort;  
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears  
Into the Channel, till the lowest stream  
Do kiss the most exalted Shores of all.  Exeunt all the Commoners. 
See where their basest mettle be not moved,  
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness:  
Go you down that way towards the Capitol,  
This way will I: Disrobe the Images,  
If you do find them decked 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 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, plucked 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. 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 chase,  
Shake off their sterile curse.  Ant. 
I shall remember,  
When Caesar says, Do this; it is performed.  Caes. 
Set on and leave no Ceremony out.  Sooth. 
Caesar.  Caes. 
Ha! Who calls?  Cask. 
Bid every noise be still: peace yet again.  Caes. 
Who is it in the press, that calls on me?  
I hear a Tongue shriller than all the Music  
Cry, Caesar: Speak, Caesar is turned 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 sayest 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 Gamesome: I do lack some part  
Of that quick Spirit that is in Antony:  
Let me not hinder Cassius your desires;  
I'll leave you.  Cassi. 
Brutus, I do observe you now of late:  
I have not from your eyes, that gentleness  
And show of love, as I was wont to have:  
You bear too stubborn, and too strange a hand  
Over your Friend, that loves you.  Bru. 
Cassius,  
Be not deceived: If I have veiled my look,  
I turn the trouble of my Countenance  
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am  
Of late, with passions of some difference,  
Conceptions only proper to myself,  
Which give some soil (perhaps) to my behaviours:  
But let not therefore my good Friends be grieved  
(Among which number Cassius be you one)  
Nor construe any further my neglect,  
Then that poor Brutus with himself at War,  
Forgets the shows of Love to other men.  Cassi. 
Then Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,  
By means whereof, this Breast of mine hath buried  
Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations.  
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?  Brutus. 
No Cassius:  
For the eye sees not itself 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 Age's yoke,  
Have wished, that Noble Brutus had his eyes.  Bru. 
Into what dangers, would you  
Led me Cassius?  
That you would have me seek into myself,  
For that which is not in me?  Cas. 
Therefore good Brutus, be prepared to hear:  
And since you know, you cannot see yourself  
So well as by Reflection; I your Glass,  
Will modestly discover to yourself  
That of yourself, which you yet know not of.  
And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus.  
Were I a common 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 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. Bru. 
What means this Shouting?  
I do fear, the People choose Caesar  
For their King.  Cassi, 
ay, 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 aught 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 than I fear death.  Cassi. 
I know that virtue to be in you Brutus,  
As well as I do know your outward favour.  
Well, Honour is the subject of my Story:  
I cannot tell, what you and other men  
Think of this life: But for my single self,  
I had as lief not be, as live to be  
In awe of such a thing, as I myself.  
I was born free as 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, chase 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 bade him follow: so indeed he did.  
The Torrent roared, 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:  
I, 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. Bru. 
Another general shout?  
I do believe, that these applauses are  
For some new Honours, that are heaped 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 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 talked of Rome,  
That her wide Walks encompassed 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 brooked  
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 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,  
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 show 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 Caesar's brow,  
And all the rest, look like a chidden Train;  
Calphurnia's Cheek is pale, and Cicero  
Looks with such Ferret, and such fiery eyes,  
As we have seen him in the Capitol  
Being crossed 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 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 mocked himself, and scorned his spirit  
That could be moved to smile at any thing.  
Such men as he be never at hearts ease,  
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,  
And therefore are they very dangerous.  
I rather tell thee what is to be feared,  
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.  Sennit. Exeunt Caesar and his Train. Cask. 
You pulled me by the Cloak, would you speak with me?  Bru. 
I Caska, tell us what hath chanced 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 chanced.  Cask. 
Why, there was a Crown offered him; and being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand thus, and then the people fell a shouting.  Bru. 
What was the second noise 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 offered him thrice?  Cask. 
I marry was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by, mine honest Neighbours shouted.  Cassi. 
Who offered him the Crown?  Cask. 
Why, Antony.  Bru. 
Tell us the manner of it, gentle Caska.  Caska. 
I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: It was mere Foolery, I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a Crown, yet 'twas not a Crown neither, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I told you he put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again: then he put it by again: But to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by, and still as he refused it, the rabblement howted, and clapped their chopped hands, and threw up their sweaty Nightcaps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath, because Caesar's refused the Crown, that it had (almost) choked Caesar: For he swooned, and fell down at it: And for my own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my Lips, and receiving the bad Air.  Cassi. 
But soft I pray you: what, did Caesar swoon?  Cask. 
He fell down in the Marketplace, and foamed 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 tagrag 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.  Bru. 
What said he, when he came unto himself?  Cask. 
Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the Common Herd was glad he refused the Crown, he plucked me open his Doublet, and offered 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 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.  Bru. 
And after that, he came thus sad away.  Cask. 
I.  Cassi. 
Did Cicero say any thing?  Cask. 
ay, he spoke Greek.  Cassi. 
To what effect?  Cask. 
Nay, and I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i'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: Murrellus and Flavius, for pulling Scarves off Caesar Images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more Foolery yet, if I could remember it.  Cassi. 
Will you sup with me to Night, Caska?  Cask. 
No, I am promised forth.  Cassi. 
Will you dine with me to morrow?  Cask. 
ay, 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 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.  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 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. 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 moved, when all the sway of Earth  
Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,  
I have seen Tempests, when the scolding Winds  
Have rived thy knotty Oaks, & I have seen  
Th'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.  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 joined, and yet his Hand,  
Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched.  
Besides, I ha' not since put up my Sword,  
Against the Capitol I met a Lion,  
Who glazed 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 Noonday, upon the Marketplace,  
Howting, 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.  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 Voice.  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 walked about the streets,  
Submitting me unto the perilous Night;  
And thus unbraced, Caska, as you see,  
Have barred my Bosom to the Thunder-stone:  
And when the cross blue Lightning seemed to open  
The Breast of Heaven, I did present myself  
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 Heralds, 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 yourself in wonder,  
To see the strange impatience of the Heavens:  
But if you would consider the true cause,  
Why all these Fires, why all these gliding Ghosts,  
Why Birds and Beasts, from quality and kind,  
Why old men, Fools, and Children calculate,  
Why all these things change from their Ordinance  
Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties,  
To monstrous quality; why you shall find,  
That Heaven hath infused 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 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.  Cask. 
'Tis Caesar that you mean:  
Is it not, Cassius?  Cassi. 
Let it be who it is: for Romans now  
Have Thews, and Limbs, like to their Ancestors;  
But woe the while, our Father's minds are dead,  
And we are governed with our Mother's Spirits,  
Our yoke, and sufferance show us Womanish.  Cask. 
Indeed, they say, the Senator's 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 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. Cask. 
So can I:  
So every Bondman in his own hand bears  
The power to cancel 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 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 oh 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 armed,  
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 moved already  
Some certain of the Noblest minded Romen  
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  
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 stayed 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 stayed 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 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?  Cinna. 
All, but Metellus Cymber, and he's gone  
To seek you at your house. Well, I will high,  
And so bestow these Papers as you bade me.  Cassi. 
That done, repair to Pompey's 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 People's hearts:  
And that which would appear Offence in us,  
His Countenance, like richest Alchemy,  
Will change to Virtue, 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 Midnight, 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 guests how near to day- Lucius', I say?  
I would it were my fault to sleep so sound.  
When, Lucius, when? awake, I say: what Lucius?  Enter Lucius'. Luc. 
Called 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 Crowned:  
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 disjoyns  
Remorse from Power: And to speak truth of Caesar,  
I have not known, when his Affections swayed  
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 hatched, 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 sealed up and I am sure  
It did not lie 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 Calendar, 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 sleepest; awake, and see thyself:  
Shall Rome, etc. speak, strike, redress,  
Brutus, thou sleepest: awake,  
Such instigations have been often dropped,  
Where I have took them up:  
Shall Rome, etc. 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 called 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 council; 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 more with him.  Brut. 
Do you know them?  Luc. 
No, Sir, their Hats are plucked 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 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', 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 yourself,  
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 welcome.  
What watchful Cares do interpose themselves.  
Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?  Cass. 
Shall I entreat a word?  They whisper: Decius. 
Here lies 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 deceived:  
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 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 slain  
The even virtue of our Enterprise,  
Nor th'insuppressive Mettle of our Spirits,  
To think, that, or our Cause, or our Performance  
Did need an Oath. When every drop of Blood  
That every Roman bears, and Nobly bears,  
Is guilty of a several Bastardy,  
If he do break the smallest Particle  
Of any Promise that hath passed 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 men's Voices, to commend our Deeds:  
It shall be said, his Judgement ruled 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 touched; but only Caesar?  Cas. 
Decius well urged: I think it is not meet,  
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.  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 Carcase 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 called 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 engrafted 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 die 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 die,  
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.  Clock striketh. 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 Fantasy, of Dreams, and Ceremonies:  
It may be, these apparent Prodigies,  
The unaccustomed Terror of this Night,  
And the Persuasion of his Augurers,  
May hold him from the Capitol to day.  Decius. 
Never fear that: if he be so resolved,  
I can o'ersway him: For he loves to hear,  
That Unicorns may be betrayed 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.  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 yourselves; but all remember  
What you have said, and show yourselves 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 untyred 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 busy Care draws in the Brains of Men;  
Therefore thou sleepest 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. You've ungently, Brutus,  
Stole from my Bed: and yesternight at Supper  
You suddenly arose, and walked about,  
Musing, and sighing, with your arms a cross:  
And when I asked you what the matter was,  
You stared upon me, with ungentle Looks.  
I urged you further; than you scratched your Head,  
And too impatiently stamped with your Foot:  
Yet I insisted; yet you answered 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 seemed 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 prevailed 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 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 Resort to you; for here have been  
Some six or seven, who did hide their Faces  
Even 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 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.  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 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 Fathered 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?  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 spoke of.  
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?  Cai. 
Vouchsafe Good Morrow from a feeble Tongue.  Bru. 
O what a time have you chose out, 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, 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?  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-fired, 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 Nightgown. Caesar. 
Nor Heaven, nor Earth,  
Have been at Peace to night:  
Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her sleep cried out;  
Help, ho: They murder 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 stir out of your house to day.  Caes. 
Caesar shall forth; the things that threatened me,  
ne'er looked 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 yawned, and yielded up their dead  
Fierce fiery Warriors fight upon the Clouds  
In Ranks and Squadrons, and right form of War,  
Which drizeled Blood upon the Capitol:  
The noise of Battle 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 purposed by the mighty Gods?  
Yet Caesar shall go forth: for these Predictions  
Are to the World in general, as to Caesar.  Calp. 
When Beggars die, there are no Comets seen,  
The Heavens themselves blaze forth the Death of Princes.  Caes. 
Cowards die many times before their Deaths,  
The valiant never taste of Death but once:  
Of all the Wonders that I yet have heard,  
It seems to me most strange that Men should fear,  
Seeing that Death, a necessary End,  
Will come when it will come.  Enter a Servant. 
What say the Augurers?  Ser. 
They would not have you to stir forth to day.  
Plucking the Entrails of an Offering forth,  
They could not find a Heart within the beast.  Caes. 
The Gods do this in shame of Cowardice:  
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 Lions littered in one day,  
And I the elder and more terrible,  
And Caesar shall go forth.  Calp. 
Alas my Lord,  
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.  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 Lie?  
Have I in Conquest stretched mine Arm so far,  
To be afraid to tell Graybeards the Truth;  
Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come.  Deci. 
Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,  
Lest I be laughed at when I tell them so.  Caes. 
The Cause is in my Will, I will not come,  
That is enough to satisfy the Senate.  
But for your private Satisfaction,  
Because I love you, I will let you know.  
Calphurnia, here my Wife stays me at home:  
She dreamed 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 bathe their Hands in it;  
And these does she apply, for Warnings and Portents,  
And Evils imminent; and on her Knee  
Hath begged, 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 bathed,  
Signifies, that from you great Rome shall suck  
Reviving Blood, and that great Men shall press  
For Tinctures, Stains, Relics, 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 rendered, 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 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 stirred so early too?  
Good morrow Caska; Caius Ligarius,  
Caesar was ne'er 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 Courtesy.  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 wish 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 heed 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 wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one Mind in all these Men, and it is bend against Caesar. If thou be'st 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 mayest live,  
If not, the Fates with Traitors do contrive.  Exit. Enter Portia and Lucius. Por. 
I prithee Boy, run to the Senate-house,  
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.  
Why dost thou stay?  Luc. 
To know my Errand, Madam.  Por. 
I would have had thee there and here again  
‛ Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there:  
O Constancy, be strong upon my side.  
Set a huge Mountain between 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?  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 Suitors 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 knowst 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 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. Por. 
I must go in:  
Ay me! How weak a thing  
The Heart of Woman is? O Brutus,  
The Heavens speed thee in thine enterprise.  
Sure the Boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit  
That 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.  Flourish. 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 Schedule.  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 ourselves, shall be last served.  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 Enterprise day may thrive.  Cassi. 
What Enterprise, popilius?  Popil. 
Fare you well.  Bru. 
What said popilius Lena?  Cassi. 
He wished to day our Enterprise 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 myself.  Bru. 
Cassius be constant:  
popilius Lena 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 addressed: 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 Couch, and these lowly Courtesies  
Might fire the Blood of ordinary Man,  
And turn preordinance, and first Decree,  
Into the Lane of Children. Be not fond  
To think that Caesar bears such Rebel-blood  
That will be thawed 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 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.  Metel. 
Is there no Voice more worthy than my own  
To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear,  
For the repealing of my banished 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 enfranchisement for Publius Cymber.  Caes. 
I could be well moved, 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 fixed, and resting quality,  
There is no fellow in the Firmament.  
The Skies are painted with unnumbered 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 furnished 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,  
Unshaked of Motion: and that I am he,  
Let me a little show it, even in this:  
That I was constant Cymber should be banished,  
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.  Dies. 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 Senator's, 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 Caesar's 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 amazed:  
Men, Wives, and Children, stare, cry out, and run,  
As it were Doomsday.  Bru. 
Fates, we will know your pleasures:  
That we shall die we know, 'tis but the time  
And drawing days out, that men stand upon.  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 Caesar's Friends, that have abriged  
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.  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 Pompey's Basis lie along,  
No worthier than the dust?  Cass. 
So oft as that shall be,  
So often shall the knot of us be called,  
The Men that gave their Country Liberty.  Dec. 
What, shall we forth?  Cass. 
ay, 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 Antonies.  Ser. 
Thus Brutus did my Master bid me kneel;  
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down,  
And being prostrate, thus he bade me say:  
Brutus is Noble, Wise, Valiant, and Honest;  
Caesar was Mighty, Bold, Royal, and Loving:  
Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him;  
Say, I feared Caesar, honoured 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,  
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 untouched.  Ser. 
I'll 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 lie so low?  
Are all thy Conquests, Glories, Triumphs, Spoils,  
Shrunk to this little Measure? Fare thee well.  
I know not Gentlemen what you intent,  
Who else must be let blood, who else is rank:  
If I myself, there is no hour so fit,  
As Caesar's 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 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.  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 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 Brother's temper, do receive you in,  
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.  Cass. 
Your voice shall be as strong as any man's,  
In the disposing of new Dignities.  Bru. 
Only be patient, till we have appeased  
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.  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,  
gentlemans 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 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 bayed brave Hart,  
Here didst thou fall, and here thy Hunters stand  
Signed in thy Spoil, and Crimsoned in thy Lethee.  
O World! thou wast the Forest to this Hart,  
And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee.  
How like a Deer, strooken by many Princes,  
Dost thou here lie?  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 pricked in number of our Friends,  
Or shall we on, and not depend on you?  Ant. 
Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed  
Swayed 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 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.  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 Funeral:  
Know you how much the people may be moved  
By that which he will utter?  Bru. 
By your pardon:  
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, then do us wrong.  Cassi. 
I know not what may fall, I like it not.  Bru. 
Mark Antony, here take you Caesar's body:  
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.  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 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 open 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 quartered 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 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 apart 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 chanced:  
Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,  
No Rome of safety for Octavius yet,  
Hie 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 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. 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 public Reasons shall be rendered  
Of Caesar's death.  1. Ple. 
I will hear Brutus speak:  
2. I will hear Cassius, and compare their Reasons,  
When severally we hear them rendered.  
3. The Noble Brutus is ascended: Silence.  Bru. 
Be patient till the last.  
Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers, hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine Honour, and have respect to mine Honour, that you may believe. Censure me in your Wisdom, and awake your Senses, that you may the better Judge. If there be any in this Assembly, any dear Friend of 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; then that Caesar were dead, to live all Freemen? 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.  All. 
None Brutus, none.  Brutus. 
Then none have I offended. I have done no more to 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 Mark Antony, 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.  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. Caesar's better parts  
Shall be Crowned in Brutus.  
1. We'll bring him to his House,  
With Shouts and Clamours.  Bru. 
My Countrymen.  
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 Caesar's Corpse, and grace his Speech  
Tending to Caesar's Glories, which Mark Antony  
(By our permission) is allowed to make.  
I do entreat you, not a man depart,  
Save I alone till Antony have spoke.  Exit. 
1. Stay ho, and let us hear Mark Antony  
3. Let him go up into the public 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 blessed 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 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 answered 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 Judgement! 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. Marked ye his words? he would not take the Crown,  
Therefore 'tis certain, he was not Ambitious.  
1. If it be found so, some will dear 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 disposed 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 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.  
4. We'll hear the Will, read, it Mark Antony.  All. 
The Will, the Will; we will hear Caesar's Will.  Ant. 
Have patience gentle Friends, I must not read it.  
It is not meet you know how Caesar loved 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, Caesar's Will.  Ant. 
Will you be patient? Will you stay a while?  
I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it,  
I fear I wrong the Honourable men,  
Whose Daggers have stabbed 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 compel me then to read the Will:  
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?  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 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 Caska made:  
Through this, the wellbeloved Brutus stabbed,  
And as he plucked his cursed Steel away:  
Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it,  
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved  
If Brutus so unkindly knocked or no:  
For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's Angel.  
Judge, O ye 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 vanquished him: then burst his Mighty heart,  
And in his Mantle, Muffling up his face,  
Even at the Base of Pompey's 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,  
Whilst bloody Treason flourished 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, marred as you see with Traitors.  
1 O pittyous spectacle!  
2 O Noble Caesar!  
3 O woeful day!  
4 O Traitors, Villains!  
1. O most bloody sight!  
2. We will be revenged: 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 public leave to speak of him;  
For I have neither writ 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  
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 deserved 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 Caesar's Seal:  
To every Roman Citizen he gives,  
To every several man, seventy five Drachmas.  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 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?  1. Ple. 
Never, never: come, away, away:  
We'll burn his body in the Holy Place,  
And with the Brands fire the Traitor's 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 Caesar's house.  Ant. 
And thither will I strait, 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 Fantasy:  
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 Bachelor?  
2. Answer every man directly.  
1. ay, and briefly.  
4. ay, and wisely.  
3. ay, and truly, you were best.  Cin. 
What is my Name? Whither am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I a married man or a Bachelor? Then to answer every Man, directly and briefly, wisely and truly: wisely I say, I am a Bachelor.  
2. That's as much as to say, they are Fools 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.  

Actus Quartus.  Enter Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus'. Ant. 
These many then shall die, their Names are pricked.  Octa. 
Your Brother too must die; consent you Lepidus?  Lep. 
I do consent.  Octa. 
Prick him down Antony.  Lep. 
Upon Condition Publius shall not live,  
Who is your Sister's Son, Mark Antony.  Ant. 
He shall not live; look, with a Spot I damn him,  
But Lepidus, go you to Caesar's house:  
Fetch the Will hither, and we shall determine  
How to cut off some charge in Legacies.  Lep. 
What? shall I find you here?  Octa. 
Or here, or at the Capitol.  Exit. Lepidus. Ant. 
This is a slight meritable man,  
Meet to be sent on Errands: is it fit  
The threefold World divided, he should stand  
One of the three to share it?  Octa. 
So you thought him,  
And took his Voice who should be pricked to die  
In our black Sentence and Proscription  Ant. 
Octavius, I have seen more days than you;  
And though we lay these Honours on this Man,  
To ease ourselves of divers stand'rous Lords,  
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.  Octa. 
You may do your Will:  
But he's a tried, and valiant Soldier.  Ant. 
So is my Horse Octavius, and for that  
I do appoint him store of Provender.  
It is a Creature that I teach to fight,  
To wind, to stop, to run directly on:  
His corporal motion, governed by my Spirit,  
And in some taste, is Lepidus but so:  
He must be taught, and trained, and bid go forth:  
A barren spirited Fellow; one that feeds  
On Objects, Arts, 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 strait make head:  
Therefore let our Alliance be combined,  
Our best Friends made, our means stretched,  
And let us presently go sit in Council,  
How covert matters may be best disclosed,  
And open Perils surest answered.  Octa. 
Let us do so: for we are at the Stake,  
And bayed about with many Enemies,  
And some that smile have in their Hearts I fear  
Millions of mischiefs.  Exeunt. Drum. Enter Brutus, lucilius, and the Army. Titinius and Pindarus meet them. Bru. 
Stand ho.  Lucil. 
Give the Word ho, and stand.  Bru. 
What now lucilius, is Cassius' near?  Lucil. 
He is at hand, and Pindarus is come  
To do you Salutation from his Master.  Bru. 
He greets me well. Your Master Pindarus  
In his own Change, or by ill Officers,  
Hath given me some worthy cause to wish,  
Things done, undone: But if he be at hand  
I shall be satisfied.  Pin. 
I do not doubt  
But that my Noble Master will appear  
Such as he is, full of Regard and Honour.  Bru. 
He is not doubted. A word lucilius  
How he received you: let me be resolved.  Lucil. 
With Courtesy, and with Respect enough,  
But not with such familiar Instances,  
Nor with such free and friendly Conference  
As he hath used of old.  Bru. 
Thou hast described  
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:  Low March within. 
But when they should endure the bloody Spur,  
They fall their Crests, and like deceitful Jades  
Sink in the Trial. Comes his Army on?  Lucil. 
They mean this Night in Sardis to be quartered:  
The greater part, the Horse in general  
Are come with Cassius.  Enter Cassius and his Powers. Bru. 
Hark, he is arrived;  
March gently on to meet him.  Cassi. 
Stand ho.  Bru. 
Stand ho, speak the Word along.  
Stand.  
Stand.  
Stand.  Cassi. 
Most Noble Brother, you have done me wrong.  Bru. 
Judge me you Gods; wrong I mine Enemies?  
And if not so, how should I wrong a Brother?  Cassi. 
Brutus, this sober Form of yours hides Wrongs,  
And when you do them—  Brut. 
Cassius, be content.  
Speak your griefs softly, I do know you well.  
Before the Eyes of both our Armies here  
(Which should perceive nothing but Love from us)  
Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away:  
Then in my Tent Cassius enlarge your Griefs,  
And I will give you Audience.  Cassi. 
Pindarus,  
Bid our Commanders lead their Charges off  
A little from this Ground.  Bru. 
lucilius, do you the like, and let no Man  
Come to our Tent, till we have done our Conference.  
Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.  Exeunt. Manet Brutus and Cassius. Cassi. 
That you have wronged me, doth appear in this:  
You have condemned, and noted Lucius Pella  
For taking Bribes here of the Sardians;  
Wherein my Letters, praying on his side,  
Because I knew the Man was slighted off.  Bru. 
You wronged yourself to write in such a Case.  Cassi. 
In such a time as this, it is not meet  
That every nice Offence should bear his Comment.  Bru. 
Let me tell you Cassius, you yourself  
Are much condemned to have an itching Palm,  
To sell, and mars your Offices for Gold  
To Undeservers.  Cassi. 
I an itching Palm?  
You know that you are Brutus that speaks this,  
Or by the Gods, this Speech were else your last.  Bru. 
The Name of Cassius honours this Corruption,  
And Chastisement doth therefore hide his Head.  Cassi. 
Chastisement?  Bru. 
Remember March, the Ides of March remember:  
Did not great Julius bleed for Justice sake?  
What Villain touched his Body, that did stab,  
And not for Justice? What? Shall one of Us,  
That struck the fore-most 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.  Cassi. 
Brutus, bait not me,  
I'll not endure it: you forget yourself  
To hedge me in. I am a Soldier, I,  
Older in Practice, abler than yourself  
To make Conditions.  Bru. 
Go too: you are not Cassius.  Cassi. 
I am.  Bru. 
I say, you are not.  Cassi. 
Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;  
Have mind upon your Health: Tempt me no farther.  Bru. 
Away slight man.  Cassi. 
Is't possible?  Bru. 
Hear me, for I will speak.  
Must I give way and room to your rash Choler?  
Shall I be frighted when a Madman stairs?  Cassi. 
O ye Gods, ye Gods, Must I endure all this?  Bru. 
All this? I more: Fret till your proud Heart break.  
Go show your Slaves how choleric you are,  
And make your Bondmen tremble. Must I bow?  
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.  Cassi. 
Is it come to this?  Bru. 
You say, you are a better Soldier:  
Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,  
And it shall please me well. For mine own part,  
I shall be glad to learn of Noblemen.  Cass. 
You wrong me every way:  
You wrong me Brutus:  
I said, an Elder Soldier, not a Better.  
Did I say Better?  Bru. 
If you did, I care not.  Cass. 
When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.  Brut. 
Peace, Peace, you durst not so have tempted him.  Cassi. 
I durst not?  Brut. 
No.  Cassi. 
What? durst not tempt him?  Bru. 
For your Life you durst not.  Cassi. 
Do not presume too much upon my Love,  
I may do that I shall be sorry for.  Bru. 
You have done that you should be sorry for.  
There is no Terror Cassius in your Threats:  
For I am armed 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 answered 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.  Cassi. 
I denied you not.  Bru. 
You did.  Cassi. 
I did not. He was but a Fool  
That brought my Answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart:  
A Friend should bear his Friends Infirmities;  
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.  Bru. 
I do not, till you practise them on me.  Cassi. 
You love me not.  Bru. 
I do not like your Faults.  Cassi. 
A friendly Eye could never see such Faults.  Bru. 
A Flatterers would not, though they do appear  
As huge as high Olympus.  Cassi. 
Come Antony, and young Octavius come,  
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,  
For Cassius is weary of the World:  
Hated by one he loves, braved by his Brother,  
Cheeked like a Bondman, all his Faults observed;  
Set in a Notebook, learned, and conned 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 Pluto's 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.  Bru. 
Sheath your Dagger:  
Be angry when you will, it shall have Scope:  
Do what you will, Dishonour shall be Humour.  
O Cassius, you are yoked with a Lamb  
That carries Anger, as the Flint bears Fire,  
Who much enforced, shows a hasty Spark,  
And straight is cold again.  Cassi. 
Hath Cassius lived  
To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,  
When Grief and Blood ill tempered, vexeth him?  Bru. 
When I spoke that, I was ill tempered too.  Cassi. 
Do you confess so much? Give me your Hand.  Bru. 
And my Heart too.  Cassi. 
O Brutus.  Bru. 
What's the matter?  Cassi. 
Have not you Love enough to bear with me,  
When that rash Humour which my Mother gave me  
Makes me forgetful?  Bru. 
Yes Cassius, and from henceforth  
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,  
He'll think your Mother chides, and leave you so.  Enter a Poet. Poet. 
Let me go in to see the Generals,  
There is some Grudge between 'em; 'tis not meet  
They be alone.  Lucil. 
You shall not come to them.  Poet. 
Nothing but Death shall stay me.  Cassi. 
How now? What's the matter?  Poet. 
For shame you Generals; what do you mean?  
Love, and be Friends, as two such Men should be,  
For I have seen more years I'm sure than ye.  Cas. 
Ha, ha, how vilely doth this Cynic rhyme?  Bru. 
Get you hence Sirrah: Saucy Fellow, hence.  Cas. 
Bear with him Brutus, 'tis his Fashion.  Bru. 
I'll know his humour, when he knows his time:  
What should the Wars do with these Jigging Fools?  
Companion, hence.  Cas. 
Away, away, be gone.  Exit Poet. Bru. 
lucilius and Titinius bid the Commanders  
Prepare to lodge their Companies to night.  Cas. 
And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you  
Immediately to us.  Bru. 
Lucius, a Bowl of Wine.  Cas. 
I did not think you could have been so angry.  Bru. 
O Cassius, I am sick of many Griefs.  Cas. 
Of your Philosophy you make no use,  
If you give place to accidental Evils.  Bru. 
No man bears Sorrow better. Portia is dead.  Cas. 
Ha? Portia?  Bru. 
She is dead.  Cas. 
How scaped I killing, when I crossed you so?  
O insupportable and touching loss!  
Upon what Sickness?  Bru. 
Impatient of my absence.  
And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony,  
Have made themselves so strong: For with her death  
That Tidings came. With this she fell distract,  
And (her Attendants absent) swallowed fire.  Cas. 
And died so?  Bru. 
Even so.  Cas. 
O ye Immortal Gods!  Enter Boy with Wine and Tapers. Bru. 
Speak no more of her: Give me a Bowl of Wine,  
In this I bury all Unkindness Cassius.  Drinks. Cas. 
My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.  
Fill Lucius, till the Wine o'erswell the Cup:  
I cannot drink too much of Brutus Love.  Enter Titinius and Messala. Brut. 
Come in Titinius:  
Welcome good Messala;  
Now sit we close about this Taper here,  
And call in question our Necessities.  Cassi. 
Portia, art thou gone?  Bru. 
No more I pray you.  
Messala, I have here received Letters,  
That young Octavius, and Mark Antony,  
Come down upon us with a mighty Power,  
Bending their Expedition toward Philippi.  Mess. 
Myself have Letters of the selfsame Tenure.  Bru. 
With what Addition?  Mess. 
That by Proscription, and bills of Outlary,  
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus',  
Have put to death an hundred Senators.  Bru. 
Therein our Letters do not well agree;  
Mine speak of seventy Senators that died  
By their Proscriptions, Cicero being one.  Cassi. 
Cicero one?  Messa. 
Cicero is dead, and by that order of Proscription  
Had you your Letters from your Wife, my Lord?  Bru. 
No Messala.  Messa. 
Nor nothing in your Letters writ of her?  Bru. 
Nothing Messala.  Messa. 
That methinks is strange.  Bru. 
Why ask you?  
Hear you ought of her in yours?  Messa. 
No my Lord.  Bru. 
Now as you are a Roman tell me true.  Messa. 
Then like a Roman, bear the Truth I tell,  
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.  Bru. 
Why farewell Portia: We must die Messala:  
With meditating that she must die once,  
I have the Patience to endure it now.  Messa. 
Even so great Men great Losses should endure.  Cassi. 
I have as much of this in Art as you,  
But yet my Nature could not bear it so.  Bru. 
Well, to our Work alive. What do you think  
Of marching to Philippi presently?  Cassi. 
I do not think it good.  Bru. 
Your reason?  Cassi. 
This it is:  
'Tis better that the Enemy seek us,  
So shall he waste his Means, weary his Soldiers,  
Doing himself offence, whilst we lying still,  
Are full of Rest, Defence, and Nimbleness.  Bru. 
Good Reasons must of force give place to better:  
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 refreshed, 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.  Cassi. 
Hear me good Brother.  Bru. 
Under your pardon. You must note beside,  
That we have tried the utmost of our Friends:  
Our Legions are brim full, our Cause is ripe,  
The Enemy increaseth every day,  
We at the height, are ready to decline.  
There is a Tide in the Affairs of Men,  
Which taken at the Flood, leads on to Fortune;  
Omitted, all the Voyage of their Life  
Is bound in Shallows, and in Miseries.  
On such a full Sea are we now afloat,  
And we must take the Current when it serves,  
Or lose our Ventures.  Cassi. 
Then with your Will go on: we'll along  
Ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.  Bru. 
The deep of Night is crept upon our Talk,  
And Nature must obey Necessity,  
Which we will niggard with a little Rest:  
There is no more to say.  Cassi. 
No more, good night,  
Early to morrow will we rise, and hence.  Enter Lucius'. Bru. 
Lucius, my Gown: farewel good Messala,  
Good night Titinius; Noble, Noble Cassius,  
Good night, and good repose.  Cassi. 
O my dear Brother;  
This was an ill beginning of the Night;  
Never come such Division between our Souls:  
Let it not Brutus.  Enter Lucius with the Gown. Bru. 
Every thing is well.  Cass. 
Good night my Lord.  Bru. 
Good night good Brother.  Tit. 
Messa. Good night Lord Brutus.  Bru. 
Farewell every one.  
Give me the Gown. Where is thy Instrument?  Exeunt. Luc. 
Here in the Tent.  Bru. 
What, thou speakest drowsily;  
Poor Knave, I blame thee not, thou art o'erwatched.  
Call Claudio, and some other of my Men,  
I'll have them sleep on Cushions in my Tent.  Luc. 
Varrus, and Claudio?  Enter Varrus and Claudio. Var. 
Calls my Lord?  Bru. 
I pray you Sirs, lie in my Tent and sleep,  
It may be I shall raise you by and by  
On business to my Brother Cassius.  Var. 
So please you, we will stand,  
And watch your Pleasure.  Bru. 
I will not have it so: Lie down good Sirs,  
It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.  
Look Lucius, here's the Book I sought for so:  
I put it in the Pocket of my Gown.  Luc. 
I was sure your Lordship did not give it me.  Bru. 
Bear with me, good Boy, I am much forgetful.  
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes a while,  
And touch thy Instrument a Strain or two.  Luc. 
I my Lord, an't please you.  Bru. 
It does, my Boy:  
I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.  Luc. 
It is my Duty, Sir.  Brut. 
I should not urge thy Duty past thy Might,  
I know young Bloods look for a time of rest.  Luc. 
I have slept my Lord already.  Bru. 
It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again:  
I will not hold thee long. If I do live,  
I will be good to thee.  Music and a Song. 
This is a sleepy Tune: O murderous Slumber!  
Layest 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 turned 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 mak'st my Blood cold, and my Hair to stare?  
Speak to me, what thou art.  Ghost. 
Thy evil Spirit Brutus.  Bru. 
Why comest thou?  Ghost. 
To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.  Brut. 
Well: then I shall see thee again?  Ghost. 
ay, at Philippi.  Bru. 
Why I will see thee at Philippi then:  
Now I have taken Heart thou vanishest.  
Ill Spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.  
Boy, Lucius', Varrus, Claudio, Sirs: Awake:  
Claudio.  Luc. 
The Strings, my Lord, are false.  Bru. 
He thinks he still is at his Instrument.  
Lucius, awake.  Luc. 
My Lord.  Bru. 
Didst thou dream Lucius, that thou so cryedest out?  Luc. 
My Lord, I do not know that I did cry.  Bru. 
Yes that thou didst: Didst thou see any thing?  Luc. 
Nothing my Lord.  Bru. 
Sleep again Lucius: Sirrah Claudio, Fellow,  
Thou: Awake.  Var. 
My Lord.  Clau. 
My Lord.  Bru. 
Why did you so cry out Sirs, in your Sleep?  Both. 
Did we, my Lord?  Bru. 
I: saw you any thing?  Var. 
No, my Lord, I saw nothing.  Clau. 
Nor I my Lord.  Bru. 
Go, and commend me to my Brother Cassius:  
Bid him set on his Powers betimes before,  
And we will follow.  Both. 
It shall be done my Lord.  Exeunt.  

Actus Quintus.  Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army. Octa. 
Now Antony, our hopes are answered,  
You said the Enemy would not come down,  
But keep the Hills and upper Regions:  
It proves not so: their Battles are at hand,  
They mean to warn us at Philippi here:  
Answering before we do demand of them.  Ant. 
Tut, I am in their Bosoms, and I know  
Wherefore they do it: They could be content  
To visit other places, and come down  
With fearful Bravery: thinking by this Face  
To fasten in our Thoughts that they have Courage;  
But 'tis not so.  Enter a Messenger. Mes. 
Prepare you Generals,  
The Enemy comes on in gallant show:  
Their bloody Sign of Battle is hung out,  
And something to be done immediately.  Ant. 
Octavius, lead your Battle softly on  
Upon the left hand of the even Field.  Octa. 
Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.  Ant. 
Why do you cross me in this Exigent?  Octa. 
I do not cross you; but I will do so.  March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army. Bru. 
They stand, and would have Parley:  Cassi. 
Stand fast Titinius we must out and talk.  Octa. 
Mark Antony, shall we give sign of Battle?  Ant. 
No Caesar, we will answer on their Charge.  
Make forth, the Generals would have some Words.  Octa. 
Stir not until the Signal.  Bru. 
Words before Blows: is it so Countrymen?  Octa. 
Not that we love Words better, as you do.  Bru. 
Good Words are better-than bad Strokes Octavius.  An. 
In your bad Strokes Brutus, you give good Words,  
Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart,  
Crying long live, Hail Caesar.  Cass. 
Antony,  
The posture of your blows are yet unknown;  
But for your words, they rob the Hibla Bees  
And leave them Hony-less.  Ant. 
Not stingless too.  Bru. 
O yes, and soundless too.  
For you have stolen their buzzing Antony,  
And very wisely threat before you sting.  Ant. 
Villains: you did not so, when your vile daggers  
Hacked one another in the sides of Caesar.  
You showed your teeth like Apes,  
And fawned like Hounds,  
And bowed like Bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet;  
Whilst damned Caska, like a Cur, behind  
Struck Caesar on the neck. O you Flatterers.  Cass. 
Flatterers? Now Brutus thank yourself,  
This tongue had not offended so to day,  
If Cassius might have ruled.  Octa. 
Come, come, the cause. If arguing make us sweat,  
The proof of it will turn to redder drops:  
Look, I draw a Sword against Conspirators,  
When think you that the Sword goes up again?  
Never till Caesar's three and thirty wounds  
Be well avenged; or till another Caesar  
Have added slaughter to the Sword of Traitors.  Bru. 
Caesar, thou canst not die by Traitors hands,  
Unless thou bring'st them with thee.  Octa. 
So I hope:  
I was not born to die on Brutus Sword.  Bru. 
O if thou were't the Noblest of the Strain,  
Youngman, thou couldst not die more honourable.  Cassi. 
A peevish Schoolboy, worthless of such Honour,  
Joined with a Masker, and a Reveller.  Ant. 
Old Cassius still.  Octa. 
Come Antony: away:  
Defiance Traitors, hurl we in your teeth.  
If you dare fight to day, come to the Field,  
If not, when you have stomaches.  Exit Octavius, Antony, and Army. Cass. 
Why now blow wind, swell Billow,  
And swim Bark:  
The Storm is up, and all is on the hazard.  Bru. 
Ho lucilius, hark, a word with you.  lucilius and Messala stand forth. Luc. 
My Lord.  Cass. 
Messala.  Messa. 
What says my General?  Cass. 
Messala, this is my Birthday: 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 compelled 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 parched,  
Gorging and feeding from our Soldier's 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.  Messa. 
Believe not so.  Cass. 
I but believe it partly,  
For I am fresh of spirit, and resolved  
To meet all perils, very constantly.  Bru. 
Even so lucilius.  Cass. 
Now most Noble Brutus,  
The Gods to day stand friendly, that we may  
Lovers in peace, lead on our days to Age.  
But since the affairs of men rest still incertain,  
Let's reason with the worst that may befall.  
If we do lose this Battle, then is this  
The very last time we shall speak together:  
What are you then determined to do?  Bru. 
Even by the rule of that Philosophy,  
By which I did blame Cato, for the death  
Which he did give himself, I know not how:  
But I do find it Cowardly, and vile,  
For fear of what might fall, so to prevent  
The time of life, arming myself with patience,  
To stay the providence of some high Powers,  
That govern us below.  Cass. 
Then, if we lose this Battle,  
You are contented to be led in Triumph  
Thorough the Streets of Rome.  Bru. 
No Cassius, no:  
Think not, thou Noble Roman,  
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome,  
He bears too great a mind. But this same day  
Must end that work, the Ides of March begun.  
And whether we shall meet again, I know not:  
Therefore our everlasting farewell take:  
For ever, and for ever, farewell Cassius,  
If we do meet again, why we shall smile:  
If not, why then this parting was well made.  Cass. 
For ever, and for ever, farewell Brutus:  
If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;  
If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made.  Bru. 
Why then lead on. O that a man might know  
The end of this days business, ere it come:  
But it sufficeth, that the day will end,  
And then the end is known. Come ho, away.  Exeunt: Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala. Bru. 
Ride, ride Messala, ride and give these Bills  
Unto the Legions, on the other side.  Loud Alarm. 
Let them set on at once: for I perceive  
But cold demeanour in Octavio's wing:  
And sudden push gives them the overthrow:  
Ride, ride Messala, let them all come down.  Exeunt. Alarms. Enter Cassius and Titinius. Cass. 
O look Titinius, look the Villains fly:  
Myself have to mine own turned Enemy;  
This Ensign here of mine was turning back,  
I slew the Coward, and did take it from him.  Titi. 
O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early,  
Who having some advantage on Octavius,  
Took it too eagerly: his Soldiers fell to spoil,  
Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed.  Enter Pindarus. Pind. 
Fly further off my Lord: fly further off,  
Mark Antony is in your Tents my Lord:  
Fly therefore Noble Cassius, fly far off,  Cass. 
This Hill is far enough. Look, look Titinius  
Are those my Tents where I perceive the fire?  Tit. 
They are, my Lord.  Cass. 
Titinius, if thou lovest me,  
Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him,  
Till he have brought thee up to yonder Troops  
And here again, that I may rest assured  
Whether yond Troops, are Friend or Enemy  Exit. Tit. 
I will be here again, even with a thought.  Cass. 
Go Pindarus, get higher on that hill,  
My sight was ever thick: regard Titinius,  
And tell me what thou notest about the Field,  
This day I breathed first, Time is come round,  
And where I did begin, there shall I end,  
My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news?  Pin. 
Above. O my Lord.  Cassi. 
What news?  Pind. 
Titinius is enclosed round about  
With horsemen, that make to him on the Spurr,  
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.  Cass. 
Come down, behold no more:  
O Coward that I am, to live so long,  
To see my best Friend ta'en before my face.  Enter Pindarus. 
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 covered, as 'tis now,  
Guide thou the Sword— Caesar, thou art revenged,  
Even with the Sword that killed thee.  Pin. 
So, I am free,  
Yet would not so have been  
Durst I have done my will. O Cassius,  
Far from this Country Pindarus shall run,  
Where never Roman shall take note of him.  Enter Titinius and Messala. Messa. 
It is but change, Titinius: for Octavius  
Is overthrown by Noble Brutus' power,  
As Cassius' Legions are by Antony.  Titin. 
These tidings will well comfort Cassius.  Messa. 
Where did you leave him.  Titin. 
All disconsolate,  
With Pindarus his Bondman, on this Hill.  Messa. 
Is not that he that lies upon the ground?  Titin. 
He lies not like the Living. O my heart!  Messa. 
Is not that he?  Titin. 
No, this was he Messala,  
But Cassius is no more. O setting Sun:  
As in thy red Rays thou dost sink to night;  
So in his red blood Cassius day is set.  
The Sun of Rome is set. Our day is gone,  
Clouds, Dews, and Dangers come; our deeds are done:  
Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.  Messa. 
Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.  
O hateful Error, Melancholies 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 engendered thee.  Tit. 
What Pindarus? Where art thou, Pindarus?  Messa. 
Seek him Titinius, whilst I go to meet  
The Noble Brutus, thrusting this report  
Into his ears; I may say thrusting it:  
For piercing Steel, and Darts invenomed,  
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus,  
As tidings of this sight.  Tit. 
Hie you Messala,  
And I will seek for Pindarus the while:  
Why didst thou send me forth brave Cassius?  
Did I not meet thy Friends, and did not they  
Put on my Brows this wreath of Victory,  
And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts?  
Alas, thou hast 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 Romans part,  
Come Cassius Sword, and find Titinius heart.  Dies. Alarm. Enter Brutus, Messala, young Cato, Stato, Volumnius, and lucilius. Bru. 
Where, where Messala, doth his body lie?  Messa. 
Lo yonder, and Titinius mourning it.  Bru. 
Titinius face is upward.  Cato. 
He is slain.  Bru. 
O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet,  
Thy Spirit walks abroad, and turns our Swords  
In our own proper Entrails.  Low Alarms. Cato. 
Brave Titinius.  
Look where he have not Crowned dead Cassius.  Bru. 
Are yet two Romans living such as these?  
The last of all the Romans, far thee well:  
It is impossible, that ever Rome  
Should breed thy fellow. Friends I own 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 Tharsus 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,  
Labio and Flavio set our Battles on,  
'Tis three a clock, and Romans yet ere night,  
We shall try Fortune in a second fight.  Exeunt. Alarm. Enter Brutus, Messala, Cato, lucilius, and Flavius. Bru. 
Yet Countrymen: O yet, hold up your heads.  Cato. 
What Bastard doth not? Who will go with me?  
I will proclaim my name about the Field.  
I am the Son of Marcus Cato, ho.  
A Foe to Tyrants, and my Countries Friend.  
I am the Son of Marcus Cato, ho.  Enter Soldiers, and fight. Bru. 
And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus', I,  
Brutus my Countries Friend: Know me for Brutus.  Luc. 
O young and Noble Cato, art thou down?  
Why now thou diest, as bravely as Titinius,  
And may'st be honoured being Cato's Son.  Sold. 
Yield, or thou diest.  Luc. 
Only I yield to die:  
There is so much, that thou wilt kill me strait:  
Kill Brutus, and be honoured in his death.  Sold. 
We must not: A Noble Prisoner.  Enter Antony. 2. Sold. 
Room ho: tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.  1. Sold. 
I'll tell the news. Here comes the General,  
Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en my Lord.  Ant. 
Where is he?  Luc. 
Safe Antony, Brutus is safe enough:  
I dare assure thee, that no Enemy  
Shall ever take alive the Noble Brutus:  
The Gods defend him from so great a shame,  
When you do find him, or alive, or dead;  
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.  Ant. 
This is not Brutus friend, but I assure you,  
A prize no less in worth; keep this man safe,  
Give him all kindness. I had rather have  
Such men my Friends, than Enemies. Go on,  
And see where Brutus be alive or dead,  
And bring us word, unto Octavius Tent:  
How every thing is chanced.  Exeunt. Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius. Bru. 
Come poor remains of friends, rest on this Rock.  Clit. 
Statillius showed the Torchlight, but my Lord,  
He came not back: he is or ta'en, or slain.  Bru. 
Sat thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word,  
It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.  Clit. 
What I, my Lord? No, not for all the World.  Brut. 
Peace then, no words.  Clit. 
I'll rather kill myself.  Brut. 
Hark thee, Dardanius.  Dard. 
Shall I do such a deed?  Clit. 
O Dardanius.  Dard. 
O Clitus.  Clit. 
What ill request did Brutus make to thee?  Dard. 
To kill him, Clitus: look he meditates.  Clit. 
Now is that Noble Vessel full of grief,  
That it runs over even at his eyes.  Bru. 
Come hither, good Volumnius, list a word.  Volume. 
What says my Lord?  Bru. 
Why this, Volumnius:  
The Ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me  
Two several times by Night: at Sardis, once;  
And this last Night, here in Philippi Fields:  
I know my hour is come.  Volume. 
Not so, my Lord.  Brut. 
Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.  
Thou seest the World, Volumnius, how it goes,  
Our Enemies have beat us to the Pit:  Low Alarms. 
It is more worthy, to leap in ourselves,  
Then tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,  
Thou knowst, 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.  Vol. 
That's not an Office for a friend, my Lord.  Alarm still. Cli. 
Fly, fly my Lord, there is no tarrying here.  Bru. 
Farewell to you, and you, and you Volumnius.  
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep:  
Farewell to thee, to 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 lives History:  
Night hangs upon mine eyes, my Bones would rest,  
That have but laboured, to attain this hour.  Alarm. Cry within, Fly, fly, fly. Cli. 
Fly my Lord, fly.  Bru. 
Hence: I will follow:  
I prithee Strato, stay thou by thy Lord,  
Thou art a Fellow of a good respect:  
Thy life hath had some smatch of Honour in it,  
Hold then my Sword, and turn away thy face,  
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou Strato?  Stra. 
Give me your hand first. Fare you well my Lord.  Bru. 
Farewell good Strato.— Caesar, now be still,  
Ikilled killed not thee with half so good a will.  Dies. Alarm. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala, lucilius, and the Army. Octa. 
What man is that?  Messa. 
My Masters man. Strato, where is thy Master?  Stra. 
Free from the Bondage you are in Messala,  
The Conquerors can but make a fire of him:  
For Brutus only overcame himself,  
And no man else hath Honour by his death.  Lucil. 
So Brutus should be found. I thank thee Brutus  
That thou hast proved lucilius saying true,  Octa. 
All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.  
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?  Stra. 
ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.  Octa. 
Do so, good Messala.  Messa. 
How died my Master Strato?  Stra. 
I held the Sword, and he did run on it.  Messa. 
Octavius then take him to follow thee,  
That did the latest service to my Master.  Ant. 
This was the Noblest Roman of them all:  
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 mixed in him, that Nature might stand up,  
And say to all the World; This was a man.  Octa. 
According to his Virtue, let us use him  
With all Respect, and Rites of Burial.  
Within my Tent his bones to night shall lie,  
Most like a Soldier ordered Honourably:  
So call the Field to rest, and let's away,  
To part the glories of this happy day.  Exeunt omnes  
FINIS.