< Shakespeare -- JULIUS CAESAR >
< from Online Library of Liberty (http://oll.libertyfund.org) >
< Unicode .txt version by Mike Scott (http://www.lexically.net) >
< from "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare" >
< ed. with a glossary by W.J. Craig M.A. >
< (London: Oxford University Press, 1916) >
<STAGE DIR>
<Scene.—During a great part of the Play, at Rome; afterwards, Sardis and near Philippi.>
</STAGE DIR>


<ACT 1>


<SCENE 1>
<Rome. A Street.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners.>
</STAGE DIR>
<FLAVIUS>	<0%>
	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?
</FLAVIUS>

<COMMONER 1>	<1%>
	Why, sir, a carpenter.
</COMMONER 1>

<MARULLUS>	<1%>
	Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?
	What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
	You, sir, what trade are you?
</MARULLUS>

<COMMONER 2>	<1%>
	Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler.
</COMMONER 2>

<MARULLUS>	<1%>
	But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.
</MARULLUS>

<COMMONER 2>	<1%>
	A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
</COMMONER 2>

<MARULLUS>	<1%>
	What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
</MARULLUS>

<COMMONER 2>	<1%>
	Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
</COMMONER 2>

<MARULLUS>	<1%>
	What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow!
</MARULLUS>

<COMMONER 2>	<1%>
	Why, sir, cobble you.
</COMMONER 2>

<FLAVIUS>	<1%>
	Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
</FLAVIUS>

<COMMONER 2>	<1%>
	Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork.
</COMMONER 2>

<FLAVIUS>	<2%>
	But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?
	Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
</FLAVIUS>

<COMMONER 2>	<2%>
	Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Cæsar and to rejoice in his triumph.
</COMMONER 2>

<MARULLUS>	<2%>
	Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
	What tributaries follow him to Rome
	To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
	You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
	O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
	Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
	Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
	To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
	Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
	The livelong day, with patient expectation,
	To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
	And when you saw his chariot but appear,
	Have you not made a universal shout,
	That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
	To hear the replication of your sounds
	Made in her concave shores?
	And do you now put on your best attire?
	And do you now cull out a holiday?
	And do you now strew flowers in his way,
	That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
	Be gone!
	Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
	Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
	That needs must light on this ingratitude.
</MARULLUS>

<FLAVIUS>	<3%>
	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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt all the Commoners.>
</STAGE DIR>
	See whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
	They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
	Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
	This way will I. Disrobe the images
	If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
</FLAVIUS>

<MARULLUS>	<3%>
	May we do so?
	You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
</MARULLUS>

<FLAVIUS>	<3%>
	It is no matter; let no images
	Be hung with Cæsar's trophies. I'll about
	And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
	So do you too where you perceive them thick.
	These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar'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.
</FLAVIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 1>


<SCENE 2>
<The Same. A Public Place.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter, in procession, with music, Cæsar; Antony, for...>
<... the course; Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero,...>
<... Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	Calphurnia!
</CÆSAR>

<CASCA>	<4%>
	Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Music ceases.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	Calphurnia!
</CÆSAR>

<CALPHURNIA>	<4%>
	Here, my lord.
</CALPHURNIA>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	Stand you directly in Antonius' way
	When he doth run his course. Antonius!
</CÆSAR>

<ANTONIUS>	<4%>
	Cæsar, my lord.
</ANTONIUS>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
	To touch Calphurnia; for our elders say,
	The barren, touched in this holy chase,
	Shake off their sterile curse.
</CÆSAR>

<ANTONIUS>	<4%>
	I shall remember:
	When Cæsar says 'Do this,' it is perform'd.
</ANTONIUS>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	Set on; and leave no ceremony out.
</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Music.>
</STAGE DIR>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<4%>
	Cæsar!
</SOOTHSAYER>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	Ha! Who calls?
</CÆSAR>

<CASCA>	<4%>
	Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Music ceases.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	Who is it in the press that calls on me?
	I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
	Cry 'Cæsar.' Speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear.
</CÆSAR>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<4%>
	Beware the ides of March.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	What man is that?
</CÆSAR>

<BRUTUS>	<4%>
	A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.
</BRUTUS>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	Set him before me; let me see his face.
</CÆSAR>

<CASCA>	<4%>
	Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Cæsar.
</CASCA>

<CÆSAR>	<4%>
	What sayst thou to me now? Speak once again.
</CÆSAR>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<5%>
	Beware the ides of March.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<CÆSAR>	<5%>
	He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.
</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CASCA>	<5%>
	Will you go see the order of the course?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<5%>
	Not I.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<5%>
	I pray you, do.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<5%>
	I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
	Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
	Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
	I'll leave you.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<5%>
	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.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<5%>
	Cassius,
	Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
	I turn the trouble of my countenance
	Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
	Of late with passions of some difference,
	Conceptions only proper to myself,
	Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviours;
	But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,—
	Among which number, Cassius, be you one,—
	Nor construe any further my neglect,
	Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
	Forgets the shows of love to other men.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<5%>
	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?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<6%>
	No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself,
	But by reflection, by some other things.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<6%>
	'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 Cæsar,—speaking of Brutus,
	And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
	Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<6%>
	Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
	That you would have me seek into myself
	For that which is not in me?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<6%>
	Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear;
	And, since you know you cannot see yourself
	So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
	Will modestly discover to yourself
	That of yourself which you yet know not of.
	And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
	Were I a common laugher, or did use
	To stale with ordinary oaths my love
	To every new protester; if you know
	That I do fawn on men and hug them hard,
	And after scandal them; or if you know
	That I profess myself in banqueting
	To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Flourish and shout.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<7%>
	What means this shouting? I do fear the people
	Choose Cæsar for their king.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<7%>
	Ay, do you fear it?
	Then must I think you would not have it so.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<7%>
	I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.
	But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
	What is it that you would impart to me?
	If it be aught toward the general good,
	Set honour in one eye and death i' the other,
	And I will look on both indifferently;
	For let the gods so speed me as I love
	The name of honour more than I fear death.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<7%>
	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 Cæsar; so were you:
	We both have fed as well, and we can both
	Endure the winter's cold as well as he:
	For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
	The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
	Cæsar said to me, 'Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
	Leap in with me into this angry flood,
	And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word,
	Accoutred as I was, I plunged in
	And bade him follow; so, indeed he did.
	The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
	With lusty sinews, throwing it aside
	And stemming it with hearts of controversy;
	But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,
	Cæsar cried, 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!'
	I, as Æneas, 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 Cæsar. And this man
	Is now become a god, and Cassius is
	A wretched creature and must bend his body
	If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.
	He had a fever when he was in Spain,
	And when the fit was on him, I did mark
	How he did shake; 'tis true, this god did shake;
	His coward lips did from their colour fly,
	And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world
	Did lose his lustre; I did hear him groan;
	Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans
	Mark him and write his speeches in their books,
	Alas! it cried, 'Give me some drink, Titinius,'
	As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
	A man of such a feeble temper should
	So get the start of the majestic world,
	And bear the palm alone.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Flourish. Shout.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<8%>
	Another general shout!
	I do believe that these applauses are
	For some new honours that are heaped on Cæsar.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<9%>
	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 Cæsar: what should be in that 'Cæsar?'
	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 'Cæsar.'
	Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
	Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
	That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd!
	Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
	When went there by an age, since the great flood,
	But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
	When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
	That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
	Now is it Rome indeed and room enough,
	When there is in it but one only man.
	O! you and I have heard our fathers say,
	There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
	Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome
	As easily as a king.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<10%>
	That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
	What you would work me to, I have some aim:
	How I have thought of this and of these times,
	I shall recount hereafter; for this present,
	I would not, so with love I might entreat you,
	Be any further mov'd. What you have said
	I will consider; what you have to say
	I will with patience hear, and find a time
	Both meet to hear and answer such high things.
	Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this:
	Brutus had rather be a villager
	Than to repute himself a son of Rome
	Under these hard conditions as this time
	Is like to lay upon us.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<10%>
	I am glad
	That my weak words have struck but thus much show
	Of fire from Brutus.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<10%>
	The games are done and Cæsar is returning.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<10%>
	As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve,
	And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
	What hath proceeded worthy note to-day.

</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Cæsar and his Train.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<10%>
	I will do so. But, look you, Cassius,
	The angry spot doth glow on Cæsar's brow,
	And all the rest look like a chidden train:
	Calphurnia's cheek is pale, and Cicero
	Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes
	As we have seen him in the Capitol,
	Being cross'd in conference by some senators.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<11%>
	Casca will tell us what the matter is.
</CASCA>

<CÆSAR>	<11%>
	Antonius!
</CÆSAR>

<ANTONIUS>	<11%>
	Cæsar.
</ANTONIUS>

<CÆSAR>	<11%>
	Let me have men about me that are fat;
	Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights.
	Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
	He thinks too much: such men are dangerous:
</CÆSAR>

<ANTONIUS>	<11%>
	Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous;
	He is a noble Roman, and well given.
</ANTONIUS>

<CÆSAR>	<11%>
	Would he were fatter! but I fear him not:
	Yet if my name were liable to fear,
	I do not know the man I should avoid
	So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;
	He is a great observer, and he looks
	Quite through the deeds of men; he loves no plays,
	As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music;
	Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
	As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit
	That could be mov'd to smile at any thing.
	Such men as he be never at heart's ease
	Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,
	And therefore are they very dangerous.
	I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd
	Than what I fear, for always I am Cæsar.
	Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
	And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.
</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Sennet. Exeunt Cæsar and his Train. Casca stays behind.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<12%>
	Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanc'd to-day,
	That Cæsar looks so sad.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	Why, you were with him, were you not?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<12%>
	I should not then ask Casca what had chanc'd.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	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.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<12%>
	What was the second noise for?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	Why, for that too.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	Why, for that too.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<12%>
	Was the crown offered him thrice?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	Ay, marry, was 't, and he put it by thrice, everytime gentler than other; and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours shouted.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	Who offered him the crown?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	Why, Antony.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<12%>
	Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<12%>
	I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown; yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets; and, as I told you, he put it by once; but, for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again; then he put it by again; but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by; and still as he refused it the rabblement shouted and clapped their chopped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Cæsar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<13%>
	But soft, I pray you: what! did Cæsar swound?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<13%>
	He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<13%>
	'Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<13%>
	No, Cæsar hath it not; but you, and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<13%>
	I know not what you mean by that; but I am sure Cæsar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<13%>
	What said he, when he came unto himself?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<13%>
	Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut. An I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, if he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried, 'Alas! good soul,' and forgave him with all their hearts: but there's no head to be taken of them; if Cæsar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<14%>
	And after that he came, thus sad, away?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<14%>
	Ay.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<14%>
	Did Cicero say any thing?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<14%>
	Ay, he spoke Greek.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<14%>
	To what effect?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<14%>
	Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' the face again; but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too; Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Cæsar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<14%>
	Will you sup with me to-night, Casca?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<14%>
	No, I am promised forth.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<14%>
	Will you dine with me to-morrow?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<15%>
	Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the eating.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<15%>
	Good; I will expect you.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<15%>
	Do so. Farewell, both.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<15%>
	What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
	He was quick mettle when he went to school.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<15%>
	So is he now in execution
	Of any bold or noble enterprise,
	However he puts on this tardy form.
	This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,
	Which gives men stomach to digest his words
	With better appetite.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<15%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<15%>
	I will do so: till then, think of the world.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Brutus.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,
	Thy honourable metal may be wrought
	From that it is dispos'd: therefore 'tis meet
	That noble minds keep ever with their likes;
	For who so firm that cannot be seduc'd?
	Cæsar 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
	Cæsar's ambition shall be glanced at:
	And after this let Cæsar seat him sure;
	For we will shake him, or worse days endure.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 2>


<SCENE 3>
<The Same. A Street.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Thunder and lightning. Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CICERO>	<16%>
	Good even, Casca: brought you Cæsar home?
	Why are you breathless? and why stare you so?
</CICERO>

<CASCA>	<16%>
	Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of earth
	Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero!
	I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds
	Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen
	The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,
	To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds:
	But never till to-night, never till now,
	Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
	Either there is a civil strife in heaven,
	Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,
	Incenses them to send destruction.
</CASCA>

<CICERO>	<16%>
	Why, saw you any thing more wonderful?
</CICERO>

<CASCA>	<16%>
	A common slave—you know him well by sight—
	Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
	Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand,
	Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.
	Besides,—I have not since put up my sword,—
	Against the Capitol I met a hon,
	Who glar'd upon me, and went surly by,
	Without annoying me; and there were drawn
	Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,
	Transformed with their fear, who swore they saw
	Men all in fire walk up and down the streets.
	And yesterday the bird of night did sit,
	Even at noon-day, upon the market-place,
	Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies
	Do so conjointly meet, let not men say
	'These are their reasons, they are natural;'
	For, I believe, they are portentous things
	Unto the climate that they point upon.
</CASCA>

<CICERO>	<17%>
	Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time:
	But men may construe things after their fashion,
	Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
	Comes Cæsar to the Capitol to-morrow?
</CICERO>

<CASCA>	<17%>
	He doth; for he did bid Antonius
	Send word to you he would be there to-morrow.
</CASCA>

<CICERO>	<17%>
	Good-night then, Casca: this disturbed sky
	Is not to walk in.
</CICERO>

<CASCA>	<17%>
	Farewell, Cicero.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Cicero.>
</STAGE DIR>

</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Cassius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CASCA>	<17%>
	Who's there?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<17%>
	A Roman.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<17%>
	Casca, by your voice.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<17%>
	Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<18%>
	A very pleasing night to honest men.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<18%>
	Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<18%>
	Those that have known the earth so full of faults.
	For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
	Submitting me unto the perilous night,
	And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,
	Have bar'd my bosom to the thunder-stone;
	And, when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
	The breast of heaven, I did present myself
	Even in the aim and very flash of it.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<18%>
	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.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<18%>
	You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life
	That should be in a Roman you do want,
	Or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze,
	And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder,
	To see the strange impatience of the heavens;
	But if you would consider the true cause
	Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
	Why birds and beasts, from quality and kind;
	Why old men, fools, and children calculate;
	Why all these things change from their ordinance,
	Their natures, and pre-formed faculties,
	To monstrous quality, why, you shall find
	That heaven hath infus'd them with these spirits
	To make them instruments of fear and warning
	Unto some monstrous state.
	Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man
	Most like this dreadful night,
	That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
	As doth the lion in the Capitol,
	A man no mightier than thyself or me
	In personal action, yet prodigious grown
	And fearful as these strange eruptions are.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<19%>
	'Tis Cæsar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<19%>
	Let it be who it is: for Romans now
	Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors;
	But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead,
	And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits;
	Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<19%>
	Indeed, they say the senators to-morrow
	Mean to establish Cæsar as a king;
	And he shall wear his crown by sea and land,
	In every place, save here in Italy.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<19%>
	I know where I will wear this dagger then;
	Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius:
	Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
	Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat:
	Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
	Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
	Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
	But life, being weary of those worldly bars,
	Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
	If I know this, know all the world besides,
	That part of tyranny that I do bear
	I can shake off at pleasure.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Thunder still.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CASCA>	<20%>
	So can I:
	So every bondman in his own hand bears
	The power to cancel his captivity.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<20%>
	And why should Cæsar 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 Cæsar! But, O grief!
	Where hast thou led me? I, perhaps, speak this
	Before a willing bondman; then I know
	My answer must be made: but I am arm'd,
	And dangers are to me indifferent.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<20%>
	You speak to Casca, and to such a man
	That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand:
	Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
	And I will set this foot of mine as far
	As who goes furthest.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<20%>
	There's a bargain made.
	Now know you, Casca, I have mov'd already
	Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
	To undergo with me an enterprise
	Of honourable-dangerous consequence;
	And I do know by this they stay for me
	In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night,
	There is no stir, or walking in the streets;
	And the complexion of the element
	In favour's like the work we have in hand,
	Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<21%>
	Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<21%>
	'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait:
	He is a friend.

</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Cinna.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Cinna, where haste you so?
<CINNA>	<21%>
	To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber?
</CINNA>

<CASCA>	<21%>
	No, it is Casca; one incorporate
	To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?
</CASCA>

<CINNA>	<21%>
	I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this!
	There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.
</CINNA>

<CASCA>	<21%>
	Am I not stay'd for? Tell me.
</CASCA>

<CINNA>	<21%>
	Yes, you are.
	O Cassius! if you could
	But win the noble Brutus to our party—
</CINNA>

<CASCA>	<21%>
	Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper,
	And look you lay it in the prætor'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?
</CASCA>

<CINNA>	<22%>
	All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone
	To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,
	And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
</CINNA>

<CASCA>	<22%>
	That done, repair to Pompey's theatre.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Cinna.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day
	See Brutus at his house: three parts of him
	Is ours already, and the man entire
	Upon the next encounter yields him ours.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<22%>
	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.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<22%>
	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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</CASCA>

</SCENE 3>

</ACT 1>

<ACT 2>


<SCENE 1>
<Rome. Brutus' Orchard.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Brutus.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<22%>
	What, Lucius! ho!
	I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
	Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say!
	I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.
	When, Lucius, when! Awake, I say! what, Lucius!

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<LUCIUS>	<22%>
	Call'd you, my lord?
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<22%>
	Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:
	When it is lighted, come and call me here.
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<23%>
	I will, my lord.
</LUCIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<23%>
	It must be by his death: and, for my part,
	I know no personal cause to spurn at him,
	But for the general. He would be crown'd:
	How that might change his nature, there's the question:
	It is the bright day that brings forth the adder;
	And that craves wary walking. Crown him?—that!
	And then, I grant, we put a sting in him,
	That at his will he may do danger with.
	The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins
	Remorse from power; and, to speak truth of Cæsar,
	I have not known when his affections sway'd
	More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof,
	That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
	Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;
	But when he once attains the upmost round,
	He then unto the ladder turns his back,
	Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
	By which he did ascend. So Cæsar may:
	Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
	Will bear no colour for the thing he is,
	Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
	Would run to these and these extremities;
	And therefore think him as a serpent's egg
	Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous,
	And kill him in the shell.

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<LUCIUS>	<24%>
	The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
	Searching the window for a flint, I found
	This paper, thus seal'd up; and I am sure
	It did not lie there when I went to bed.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<24%>
	Get you to bed again; it is not day.
	Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<24%>
	I know not, sir.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<24%>
	Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<24%>
	I will, sir.
</LUCIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<24%>
	The exhalations whizzing in the air
	Give so much light that I may read by them.
<STAGE DIR>
<Opens the letter.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake and see thyself.
	Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress!
	Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!
	Such instigations have been often dropp'd
	Where I have took them up.
	'Shall Rome, &c.' Thus must I piece it out:
	Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome?
	My ancestors did from the streets of Rome
	The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king.
	'Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated
	To speak, and strike? O Rome! I make thee promise;
	If the redress will follow, thou receiv'st
	Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<LUCIUS>	<25%>
	Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.
</LUCIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Knocking within.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<25%>
	'Tis good. Go to the gate: somebody knocks.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar,
	I have not slept.
	Between the acting of a dreadful thing
	And the first motion, all the interim is
	Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:
	The genius and the mortal instruments
	Are then in council; and the state of man,
	Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
	The nature of an insurrection.

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<LUCIUS>	<25%>
	Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
	Who doth desire to see you.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<25%>
	Is he alone?
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<25%>
	No, sir, there are more with him.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<25%>
	Do you know them?
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<25%>
	No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears,
	And half their faces buried in their cloaks,
	That by no means I may discover them
	By any mark of favour.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<25%>
	Let 'em enter.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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.

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter the Conspirators, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and Trebonius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CASCA>	<26%>
	I think we are too bold upon your rest:
	Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<26%>
	I have been up this hour, awake all night.
	Know I these men that come along with you?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<26%>
	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.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<26%>
	He is welcome hither.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<26%>
	This, Decius Brutus.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<26%>
	He is welcome too.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<26%>
	This, Casca; this, Cinna;
	And this, Metellus Cimber.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<26%>
	They are all welcome.
	What watchful cares do interpose themselves
	Betwixt your eyes and night?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<26%>
	Shall I entreat a word?
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Brutus and Cassius whisper.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<26%>
	Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<26%>
	No.
</CASCA>

<CINNA>	<26%>
	O! pardon, sir, it doth; and yon grey lines
	That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
</CINNA>

<CASCA>	<26%>
	You shall confess that you are both deceiv'd.
	Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises;
	Which is a great way growing on the south,
	Weighing the youthful season of the year.
	Some two months hence up higher toward the north
	He first presents his fire; and the high east
	Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<27%>
	Give me your hands all over, one by one.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<27%>
	And let us swear our resolution.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<27%>
	No, not an oath: if not the face of men,
	The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,
	If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
	And every man hence to his idle bed;
	So let high-sighted tyranny range on,
	Till each man-drop by lottery. But if these,
	As I am sure they do, bear fire enough
	To kindle cowards and to steel with valour
	The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen,
	What need we any spur but our own cause
	To prick us to redress? what other bond
	Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word
	And will not palter? and what other oath
	Than honesty to honesty engag'd,
	That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
	Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous,
	Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls
	That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear
	Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain
	The even virtue of our enterprise,
	Nor th' insuppressive mettle of our spirits,
	To think that or our cause or our performance
	Did need an oath; when every drop of blood
	That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,
	Is guilty of a several bastardy,
	If he do break the smallest particle
	Of any promise that hath pass'd from him.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<28%>
	But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?
	I think he will stand very strong with us.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<28%>
	Let us not leave him out.
</CASCA>

<CINNA>	<28%>
	No, by no means.
</CINNA>

<METELLUS>	<28%>
	O! let us have him; for his silver hairs
	Will purchase us a good opinion
	And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:
	It shall be said his judgment rul'd our hands;
	Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
	But all be buried in his gravity.
</METELLUS>

<BRUTUS>	<28%>
	O! name him not: let us not break with him;
	For he will never follow any thing
	That other men begin.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<28%>
	Then leave him out.
</CASCA>

<CASCA>	<28%>
	Indeed he is not fit.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<28%>
	Shall no man else be touch'd but only Cæsar?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<28%>
	Decius, well urg'd. I think it is not meet,
	Mark Antony, so well belov'd of Cæsar,
	Should outlive Cæsar: 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 Cæsar fall together.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<29%>
	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 Cæsar.
	Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
	We all stand up against the spirit of Cæsar;
	And in the spirit of men there is no blood:
	O! then that we could come by Cæsar's spirit,
	And not dismember Cæsar. But, alas!
	Cæsar must bleed for it. And, gentle friends,
	Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
	Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
	Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds:
	And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
	Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
	And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make
	Our purpose necessary and not envious;
	Which so appearing to the common eyes,
	We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers.
	And, for Mark Antony, think not of him;
	For he can do no more than Cæsar's arm
	When Cæsar's head is off.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<29%>
	Yet I fear him;
	For in the engrafted love he bears to Cæsar—
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<29%>
	Alas! good Cassius, do not think of him:
	If he love Cæsar, all that he can do
	Is to himself, take thought and die for Cæsar:
	And that were much he should; for he is given
	To sports, to wildness, and much company.
</BRUTUS>

<TREBONIUS>	<30%>
	There is no fear in him; let him not die:
	For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.
</TREBONIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Clock strikes.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<30%>
	Peace! count the clock.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<30%>
	The clock hath stricken three.
</CASCA>

<TREBONIUS>	<30%>
	'Tis time to part.
</TREBONIUS>

<CASCA>	<30%>
	But it is doubtful yet
	Whether Cæsar will come forth to-day or no;
	For he is superstitious grown of late,
	Quite from the main opinion he held once
	Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies.
	It may be, these apparent prodigies,
	The unaccustom'd terror of this night,
	And the persuasion of his augurers,
	May hold him from the Capitol to-day.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<30%>
	Never fear that: if he be so resolv'd,
	I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear
	That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
	And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
	Lions with toils, and men with flatterers;
	But when I tell him he hates flatterers,
	He says he does, being then most flattered.
	Let me work;
	For I can give his humour the true bent,
	And I will bring him to the Capitol.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<30%>
	Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<30%>
	By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost?
</BRUTUS>

<CINNA>	<31%>
	Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.
</CINNA>

<METELLUS>	<31%>
	Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæsar hard,
	Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey:
	I wonder none of you have thought of him.
</METELLUS>

<BRUTUS>	<31%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<31%>
	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.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<31%>
	Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
	Let not our looks put on our purposes,
	But bear it as our Roman actors do,
	With untir'd spirits and formal constancy:
	And so good morrow to you every one.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt all except Brutus.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter;
	Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber:
	Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies
	Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
	Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Portia.>
</STAGE DIR>
<PORTIA>	<31%>
	Brutus, my lord!
</PORTIA>

<BRUTUS>	<31%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<PORTIA>	<31%>
	Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus,
	Stole from my bed; and yesternight at supper
	You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
	Musing and sighing, with your arms across,
	And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
	You star'd upon me with ungentle looks.
	I urg'd you further; then you scratch'd your head,
	And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot;
	Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,
	But, with an angry wafture of your hand.
	Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did,
	Fearing to strengthen that impatience
	Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal
	Hoping it was but an effect of humour,
	Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
	It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,
	And could it work so much upon your shape
	As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
	I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
	Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
</PORTIA>

<BRUTUS>	<32%>
	I am not well in health, and that is all.
</BRUTUS>

<PORTIA>	<32%>
	Brutus is wise, and were he not in health,
	He would embrace the means to come by it.
</PORTIA>

<BRUTUS>	<32%>
	Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.
</BRUTUS>

<PORTIA>	<32%>
	Is Brutus sick, and is it physical
	To walk unbraced and suck up the humours
	Of the dank morning? What! is Brutus sick,
	And will he steal out of his wholesome bed
	To dare the vile contagion of the night,
	And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air
	To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus;
	You have some sick offence within your mind,
	Which, by the right and virtue of my place,
	I ought to know of; and, upon my knees,
	I charm you, by my once-commended beauty,
	By all your vows of love, and that great vow
	Which did incorporate and make us one,
	That you unfold to me, your self, your half,
	Why are you heavy, and what men to-night
	Have had resort to you; for here have been
	Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
	Even from darkness.
</PORTIA>

<BRUTUS>	<33%>
	Kneel not, gentle Portia.
</BRUTUS>

<PORTIA>	<33%>
	I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.
	Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
	Is it excepted, I should know no secrets
	That appertain to you? Am I yourself
	But, as it were, in sort of limitation,
	To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,
	And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs
	Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
	Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.
</PORTIA>

<BRUTUS>	<33%>
	You are my true and honourable wife,
	As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
	That visit my sad heart.
</BRUTUS>

<PORTIA>	<33%>
	If this were true then should I know this secret.
	I grant I am a woman, but, withal,
	A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife;
	I grant I am a woman, but, withal,
	A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter.
	Think you I am no stronger than my sex,
	Being so father'd and so husbanded?
	Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em.
	I have made strong proof of my constancy,
	Giving myself a voluntary wound
	Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience
	And not my husband's secrets?
</PORTIA>

<BRUTUS>	<34%>
	O ye gods!
	Render me worthy of this noble wife.
<STAGE DIR>
<Knocking within.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Hark, hark! one knocks. Portia, go in awhile;
	And by and by thy bosom shall partake
	The secrets of my heart.
	All my engagements I will construe to thee,
	All the charactery of my sad brows.
	Leave me with haste.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Portia.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Lucius, who's that knocks?

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Lucius with Ligarius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<LUCIUS>	<34%>
	Here is a sick man that would speak with you.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<34%>
	Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spoke of.
	Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how?
</BRUTUS>

<LIGARIUS>	<34%>
	Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.
</LIGARIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<34%>
	O! what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
	To wear a kerchief. Would you were not sick.
</BRUTUS>

<LIGARIUS>	<34%>
	I am not sick if Brutus have in hand
	Any exploit worthy the name of honour.
</LIGARIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<35%>
	Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
	Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.
</BRUTUS>

<LIGARIUS>	<35%>
	By all the gods that Romans bow before
	I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome!
	Brave son, deriv'd from honourable loins!
	Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjur'd up
	My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,
	And I will strive with things impossible;
	Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?
</LIGARIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<35%>
	A piece of work that will make sick men whole.
</BRUTUS>

<LIGARIUS>	<35%>
	But are not some whole that we must make sick?
</LIGARIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<35%>
	That must we also. What it is, my Caius,
	I shall unfold to thee as we are going
	To whom it must be done.
</BRUTUS>

<LIGARIUS>	<35%>
	Set on your foot,
	And with a heart new-fir'd I follow you,
	To do I know not what; but it sufficeth
	That Brutus leads me on.
</LIGARIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<35%>
	Follow me then.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 1>


<SCENE 2>
<The Same. Cæsar's House.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Thunder and lightning. Enter Cæsar in his night-gown.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CÆSAR>	<35%>
	Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night:
	Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out,
	'Help, ho! They murder Cæsar!' Who's within?

</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter a Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
<SERVANT>	<35%>
	My lord!
</SERVANT>

<CÆSAR>	<36%>
	Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,
	And bring me their opinions of success.
</CÆSAR>

<SERVANT>	<36%>
	I will, my lord.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SERVANT>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Calphurnia.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CALPHURNIA>	<36%>
	What mean you, Cæsar? Think you to walk forth?
	You shall not stir out of your house to-day.
</CALPHURNIA>

<CÆSAR>	<36%>
	Cæsar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me
	Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see
	The face of Cæsar, they are vanished.
</CÆSAR>

<CALPHURNIA>	<36%>
	Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies,
	Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
	Besides the things that we have heard and seen,
	Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.
	A lioness hath whelped in the streets;
	And graves have yawn'd and yielded up their dead;
	Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds,
	In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,
	Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol;
	The noise of battle hurtled in the air,
	Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan,
	And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets.
	O Cæsar! these things are beyond all use,
	And I do fear them.
</CALPHURNIA>

<CÆSAR>	<36%>
	What can be avoided
	Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods?
	Yet Cæsar shall go forth; for these predictions
	Are to the world in general as to Cæsar.
</CÆSAR>

<CALPHURNIA>	<37%>
	When beggars die there are no comets seen;
	The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
</CALPHURNIA>

<CÆSAR>	<37%>
	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.

</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	What say the augurers?
<SERVANT>	<37%>
	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.
</SERVANT>

<CÆSAR>	<37%>
	The gods do this in shame of cowardice:
	Cæsar should be a beast without a heart
	If he should stay at home to-day for fear.
	No, Cæsar shall not; danger knows full well
	That Cæsar is more dangerous than he:
	We are two lions litter'd in one day,
	And I the elder and more terrible:
	And Cæsar shall go forth.
</CÆSAR>

<CALPHURNIA>	<37%>
	Alas! my lord,
	Your wisdom is consum'd in confidence.
	Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear
	That keeps you in the house, and not your own.
	We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house,
	And he shall say you are not well to-day:
	Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this.
</CALPHURNIA>

<CÆSAR>	<37%>
	Mark Antony shall say I am not well;
	And, for thy humour, I will stay at home.

</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Decius.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.
<BRUTUS>	<38%>
	Cæsar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Cæsar:
	I come to fetch you to the senate-house.
</BRUTUS>

<CÆSAR>	<38%>
	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.
</CÆSAR>

<CALPHURNIA>	<38%>
	Say he is sick.
</CALPHURNIA>

<CÆSAR>	<38%>
	Shall Cæsar send a lie?
	Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far
	To be afeard to tell greybeards the truth?
	Decius, go tell them Cæsar will not come.
</CÆSAR>

<BRUTUS>	<38%>
	Most mighty Cæsar, let me know some cause,
	Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so.
</BRUTUS>

<CÆSAR>	<38%>
	The cause is in my will: I will not come;
	That is enough to satisfy the senate:
	But for your private satisfaction,
	Because I love you, I will let you know:
	Calphurnia here, my wife, stays me at home:
	She dreamt to-night she saw my statua,
	Which, like a fountain with a hundred spouts,
	Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans
	Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it:
	And these does she apply for warnings and portents,
	And evils imminent; and on her knee
	Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day.
</CÆSAR>

<BRUTUS>	<39%>
	This dream is all amiss interpreted;
	It was a vision fair and fortunate:
	Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,
	In which so many smiling Romans bath'd,
	Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck
	Reviving blood, and that great men shall press
	For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance.
	This by Calphurnia's dream is signified.
</BRUTUS>

<CÆSAR>	<39%>
	And this way have you well expounded it.
</CÆSAR>

<BRUTUS>	<39%>
	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 Cæsar.
	If you shall send them word you will not come,
	Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock
	Apt to be render'd, for some one to say
	'Break up the senate till another time,
	When Cæsar's wife shall meet with better dreams.'
	If Cæsar hide himself, shall they not whisper
	'Lo! Cæsar is afraid?'
	Pardon me, Cæsar; for my dear dear love
	To your proceeding bids me tell you this,
	And reason to my love is liable.
</BRUTUS>

<CÆSAR>	<39%>
	How foolish do your fears seem now, Calphurnia!
	I am ashamed I did yield to them.
	Give me my robe, for I will go:

</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Publius, Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca, Trebonius, and Cinna.>
</STAGE DIR>
	And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
<PUBLIUS>	<40%>
	Good morrow, Cæsar.
</PUBLIUS>

<CÆSAR>	<40%>
	Welcome, Publius.
	What! Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too?
	Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,
	Cæsar was ne'er so much your enemy
	As that same ague which hath made you lean.
	What is't o'clock?
</CÆSAR>

<BRUTUS>	<40%>
	Cæsar, 'tis strucken eight.
</BRUTUS>

<CÆSAR>	<40%>
	I thank you for your pains and courtesy.

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Antony.>
</STAGE DIR>
	See! Antony, that revels long o' nights,
</CÆSAR>
	Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.
<ANTONIUS>	<40%>
	So to most noble Cæsar.
</ANTONIUS>

<CÆSAR>	<40%>
	Bid them prepare within:
	I am to blame to be thus waited for.
	Now, Cinna; now, Metellus; what, Trebonius!
	I have an hour's talk in store for you;
	Remember that you call on me to-day:
	Be near me, that I may remember you.
</CÆSAR>

<TREBONIUS>	<40%>
	Cæsar, I will:—<STAGE DIR>
<Aside.>
</STAGE DIR> and so near will I be,
	That your best friends shall wish I had been further.
</TREBONIUS>

<CÆSAR>	<40%>
	Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me;
	And we, like friends, will straightway go together.
</CÆSAR>

<BRUTUS>	<40%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Aside.>
</STAGE DIR> That every like is not the same, O Cæsar!
	The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 2>


<SCENE 3>
<The Same. A Street near the Capitol.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Artemidorus, reading a paper.>
</STAGE DIR>
<ARTEMIDORUS>	<41%>
	Cæsar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark well Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Cæsar. 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 Cæsar 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 Cæsar! thou mayst live;
	If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.
</ARTEMIDORUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 3>


<SCENE 4>
<The Same. Another Part of the same Street, before the House of Brutus.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Portia and Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<PORTIA>	<41%>
	I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house;
	Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
	Why dost thou stay?
</PORTIA>

<LUCIUS>	<41%>
	To know my errand, madam.
</LUCIUS>

<PORTIA>	<41%>
	I would have had thee there, and here again,
	Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there.
	O constancy! be strong upon my side;
	Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue;
	I have a man's mind, but a woman's might.
	How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
	Art thou here yet?
</PORTIA>

<LUCIUS>	<42%>
	Madam, what shall I do?
	Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
	And so return to you, and nothing else?
</LUCIUS>

<PORTIA>	<42%>
	Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,
	For he went sickly forth; and take good note
	What Cæsar doth, what suitors press to him.
	Hark, boy! what noise is that?
</PORTIA>

<LUCIUS>	<42%>
	I hear none, madam.
</LUCIUS>

<PORTIA>	<42%>
	Prithee, listen well:
	I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
	And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
</PORTIA>

<LUCIUS>	<42%>
	Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

</LUCIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter the Soothsayer.>
</STAGE DIR>
<PORTIA>	<42%>
	Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been?
</PORTIA>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<42%>
	At mine own house, good lady.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<PORTIA>	<42%>
	What is 't o'clock?
</PORTIA>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<42%>
	About the ninth hour, lady.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<PORTIA>	<42%>
	Is Cæsar yet gone to the Capitol?
</PORTIA>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<42%>
	Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand,
	To see him pass on to the Capitol.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<PORTIA>	<42%>
	Thou hast some suit to Cæsar, hast thou not?
</PORTIA>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<42%>
	That I have, lady: if it will please Cæsar
	To be so good to Cæsar as to hear me,
	I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<PORTIA>	<43%>
	Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him?
</PORTIA>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<43%>
	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 Cæsar at the heels,
	Of senators, of prætors, common suitors,
	Will crowd a feeble man almost to death:
	I'll get me to a place more void, and there
	Speak to great Cæsar as he comes along.
</SOOTHSAYER>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

<PORTIA>	<43%>
	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 Cæsar 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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt, severally.>
</STAGE DIR>

</PORTIA>

</SCENE 4>

</ACT 2>

<ACT 3>


<SCENE 1>
<Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above.>
<STAGE DIR>
<A crowd of People; among them Artemidorus and the...>
<... Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter Cæsar, Brutus, Cassius,...>
<... Casca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, Lepidus, Popilius, Publius, and Others.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CÆSAR>	<44%>
<STAGE DIR>
<To the Soothsayer.>
</STAGE DIR> The idea of March are come.
</CÆSAR>

<SOOTHSAYER>	<44%>
	Ay, Cæsar; but not gone.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<ARTEMIDORUS>	<44%>
	Hail, Cæsar! Read this schedule.
</ARTEMIDORUS>

<BRUTUS>	<44%>
	Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read,
	At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
</BRUTUS>

<ARTEMIDORUS>	<44%>
	O Cæsar! read mine first; for mine's a suit
	That touches Cæsar nearer. Read it, great Cæsar.
</ARTEMIDORUS>

<CÆSAR>	<44%>
	What touches us ourself shall be last serv'd
</CÆSAR>

<ARTEMIDORUS>	<44%>
	Delay not, Cæsar; read it instantly.
</ARTEMIDORUS>

<CÆSAR>	<44%>
	What! is the fellow mad?
</CÆSAR>

<PUBLIUS>	<44%>
	Sirrah, give place.
</PUBLIUS>

<CÆSAR>	<44%>
	What! urge you your petitions in the street?
	Come to the Capitol.

</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Cæsar goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following. All the Senators rise.>
</STAGE DIR>
<POPILIUS>	<44%>
	I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.
</POPILIUS>

<CASCA>	<44%>
	What enterprise, Popilius?
</CASCA>

<POPILIUS>	<44%>
	Fare you well.
</POPILIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Advances to Cæsar.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<44%>
	What said Popilius Lena?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<44%>
	He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive.
	I fear our purpose is discovered.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<44%>
	Look, how he makes to Cæsar: mark him.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<44%>
	Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.
	Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,
	Cassius or Cæsar never shall turn back,
	For I will slay myself.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<45%>
	Cassius, be constant:
	Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;
	For, look, he smiles, and Cæsar doth not change.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<45%>
	Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus,
	He draws Mark Antony out of the way.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt Antony and Trebonius. Cæsar and the Senators take their seats.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<45%>
	Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,
	And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar.
</BRUTUS>

<BRUTUS>	<45%>
	He is address'd; press near and second him.
</BRUTUS>

<CINNA>	<45%>
	Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.
</CINNA>

<CASCA>	<45%>
	Are we all ready? What is now amiss,
	That Cæsar and his senate must redress?
</CASCA>

<METELLUS>	<45%>
	Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Cæsar,
	Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat
	A humble heart,—
</METELLUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Kneeling.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CÆSAR>	<45%>
	I must prevent thee, Cimber.
	These couchings and these lowly courtesies,
	Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
	And turn pre-ordinance and first decree
	Into the law of children. Be not fond,
	To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood
	That will be thaw'd from the true quality
	With that which melteth fools; I mean sweet words,
	Low-crooked curtsies, and base spaniel fawning.
	Thy brother by decree is banished:
	If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him,
	I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.
	Know, Cæsar doth not wrong, nor without cause
	Will he be satisfied.
</CÆSAR>

<METELLUS>	<46%>
	Is there no voice more worthy than my own,
	To sound more sweetly in great Cæsar's ear
	For the repealing of my banish'd brother?
</METELLUS>

<BRUTUS>	<46%>
	I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæsar;
	Desiring thee, that Publius Cimber may
	Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
</BRUTUS>

<CÆSAR>	<46%>
	What, Brutus!
</CÆSAR>

<CASCA>	<46%>
	Pardon, Cæsar; Cæsar, pardon:
	As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,
	To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
</CASCA>

<CÆSAR>	<46%>
	I could be well mov'd if I were as you;
	If I could pray to move, prayers would move me;
	But I am constant as the northern star,
	Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality
	There is no fellow in the firmament.
	The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks,
	They are all fire and every one doth shine,
	But there's but one in all doth hold his place:
	So, in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men,
	And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive;
	Yet in the number I do know but one
	That unassailable holds on his rank,
	Unshak'd of motion: and that I am he,
	Let me a little show it, even in this,
	That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd,
	And constant do remain to keep him so.
</CÆSAR>

<CINNA>	<47%>
	O Cæsar,—
</CINNA>

<CÆSAR>	<47%>
	Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus!
</CÆSAR>

<BRUTUS>	<47%>
	Great Cæsar,—
</BRUTUS>

<CÆSAR>	<47%>
	Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
</CÆSAR>

<CASCA>	<47%>
	Speak, hands, for me!
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<They stab Cæsar.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CÆSAR>	<47%>
	Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Cæsar!
</CÆSAR>
<STAGE DIR>
<Dies.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CINNA>	<47%>
	Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!
	Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
</CINNA>

<CASCA>	<47%>
	Some to the common pulpits, and cry out,
	'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!'
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<47%>
	People and senators be not affrighted;
	Fly not; stand still; ambition's debt is paid.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<47%>
	Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<47%>
	And Cassius too.
</BRUTUS>

<BRUTUS>	<47%>
	Where's Publius?
</BRUTUS>

<CINNA>	<47%>
	Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
</CINNA>

<METELLUS>	<47%>
	Stand fast together, lest some friend of Cæsar's
	Should chance—
</METELLUS>

<BRUTUS>	<47%>
	Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer;
	There is no harm intended to your person,
	Nor to no Roman else; so tell them, Publius.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<47%>
	And leave us, Publius; lest that the people,
	Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<47%>
	Do so; and let no man abide this deed
	But we the doers.

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Trebonius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CASCA>	<48%>
	Where's Antony?
</CASCA>

<TREBONIUS>	<48%>
	Fled to his house amaz'd.
	Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run
	As it were doomsday.
</TREBONIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<48%>
	Fates, we will know your pleasures.
	That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time
	And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<48%>
	Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
	Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<48%>
	Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
	So are we Cæsar's friends, that have abridg'd
	His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,
	And let us bathe our hands in Cæsar'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!'
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<48%>
	Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence
	Shall this our lofty scene be acted o'er,
	In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<48%>
	How many times shall Cæsar bleed in sport,
	That now on Pompey's basis lies along
	No worthier than the dust!
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<48%>
	So oft as that shall be,
	So often shall the knot of us be call'd
	The men that gave their country liberty.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<48%>
	What! shall we forth?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<48%>
	Ay, every man away:
	Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels
	With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.

</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter a Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<49%>
	Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's.
</BRUTUS>

<SERVANT>	<49%>
	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;
	Cæsar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving:
	Say I love Brutus, and I honour him;
	Say I fear'd Cæsar, honour'd him, and lov'd him.
	If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
	May safely come to him, and be resolv'd
	How Cæsar hath deserv'd to lie in death,
	Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar dead
	So well as Brutus living; but will follow
	The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus
	Thorough the hazards of this untrod state
	With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
</SERVANT>

<BRUTUS>	<49%>
	Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;
	I never thought him worse.
	Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
	He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour,
	Depart untouch'd.
</BRUTUS>

<SERVANT>	<49%>
	I'll fetch him presently.
</SERVANT>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<49%>
	I know that we shall have him well to friend.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<49%>
	I wish we may: but yet have I a mind
	That fears him much; and my misgiving still
	Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Antony.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<50%>
	But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony.
</BRUTUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<50%>
	O mighty Cæsar! dost thou lie so low?
	Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
	Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.
	I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,
	Who else must be let blood, who else is rank:
	If I myself, there is no hour so fit
	As Cæsar's death's hour, nor no instrument
	Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich
	With the most noble blood of all this world.
	I do beseech ye, if ye bear me hard,
	Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,
	Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
	I shall not find myself so apt to die:
	No place will please me so, no mean of death,
	As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off,
	The choice and master spirits of this age.
</ANTONIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<50%>
	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 Cæsar. For your part,
	To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony;
	Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts
	Of brothers' temper, do receive you in
	With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<51%>
	Your voice shall be as strong as any man's
	In the disposing of new dignities.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<51%>
	Only be patient till we have appeas'd
	The multitude, beside themselves with fear,
	And then we will deliver you the cause
	Why I, that did love Cæsar when I struck him,
	Have thus proceeded.
</BRUTUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<51%>
	I doubt not of your wisdom.
	Let each man render me his bloody hand:
	First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;
	Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand;
	Now, Decius Brutus, yours; now yours, Metellus;
	Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours;
	Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius.
	Gentlemen all,—alas! what shall I say?
	My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
	That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,
	Either a coward or a flatterer.
	That I did love thee, Cæsar, O! 'tis true:
	If then thy spirit look upon us now,
	Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death,
	To see thy Antony making his peace,
	Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
	Most noble! in the presence of thy corse?
	Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
	Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
	It would become me better than to close
	In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
	Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart;
	Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand,
	Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy leth
	O world! thou wast the forest to this hart;
	And this, indeed, O world! the heart of thee.
	How like a deer, strucken by many princes,
	Dost thou here lie!
</ANTONIUS>

<CASCA>	<52%>
	Mark Antony,—
</CASCA>

<ANTONIUS>	<52%>
	Pardon me, Caius Cassius:
	The enemies of Cæsar shall say this;
	Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
</ANTONIUS>

<CASCA>	<52%>
	I blame you not for praising Cæsar so;
	But what compact mean you to have with us?
	Will you be prick'd in number of our friends,
	Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
</CASCA>

<ANTONIUS>	<52%>
	Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed
	Sway'd from the point by looking down on Cæsar.
	Friends am I with you all, and love you all,
	Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons
	Why and wherein Cæsar was dangerous.
</ANTONIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<52%>
	Or else were this a savage spectacle.
	Our reasons are so full of good regard
	That were you, Antony, the son of Cæsar,
	You should be satisfied.
</BRUTUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<52%>
	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.
</ANTONIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<53%>
	You shall, Mark Antony.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<53%>
	Brutus, a word with you.
<STAGE DIR>
<Aside to Brutus.>
</STAGE DIR> You know not what you do; do not consent
	That Antony speak in his funeral:
	Know you how much the people may be mov'd
	By that which he will utter?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<53%>
	By your pardon;
	I will myself into the pulpit first,
	And show the reason of our Cæsar's death:
	What Antony shall speak, I will protest
	He speaks by leave and by permission,
	And that we are contented Cæsar shall
	Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies.
	It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<53%>
	I know not what may fall; I like it not.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<53%>
	Mark Antony, here, take you Cæsar's body.
	You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
	But speak all good you can devise of Cæsar,
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<53%>
	Be it so;
	I do desire no more.
</ANTONIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<53%>
	Prepare the body then, and follow us.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt all but Antony.>
</STAGE DIR>

<ANTONIUS>	<54%>
	O! pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
	That I am meek and gentle with these butchers;
	Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
	That ever lived in the tide of times.
	Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
	Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,
	Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips,
	To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue,
	A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;
	Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
	Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;
	Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
	And dreadful objects so familiar,
	That mothers shall but smile when they behold
	Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;
	All pity chok'd with custom of fell deeds:
	And Cæsar'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.

</ANTONIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter a Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	You serve Octavius Cæsar, do you not?
<SERVANT>	<54%>
	I do, Mark Antony.
</SERVANT>

<ANTONIUS>	<54%>
	Cæsar did write for him to come to Rome.
</ANTONIUS>

<SERVANT>	<54%>
	He did receive his letters, and is coming;
	And bid me say to you by word of mouth—
<STAGE DIR>
<Seeing the body.>
</STAGE DIR>
	O Cæsar!—
</SERVANT>

<ANTONIUS>	<55%>
	Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep.
	Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes,
	Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,
	Began to water. Is thy master coming?
</ANTONIUS>

<SERVANT>	<55%>
	He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome.
</SERVANT>

<ANTONIUS>	<55%>
	Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanc'd:
	Hare is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
	No Rome of safety for Octavius yet;
	Hie hence and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile;
	Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corpse
	Into the market-place; there shall I try,
	In my oration, how the people take
	The cruel issue of these bloody men;
	According to the which thou shalt discourse
	To young Octavius of the state of things.
	Lead me your hand.
</ANTONIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt, with Cæsar's body.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 1>


<SCENE 2>
<The Same. The Forum.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Brutus and Cassius, and a throng of Citizens.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CITIZENS>	<55%>
	We will be satisfied: let us be satisfied.
</CITIZENS>

<BRUTUS>	<55%>
	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 Cæsar's death.
</BRUTUS>

<CITIZEN 1>	<56%>
	I will hear Brutus speak.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<56%>
	I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons,
	When severally we hear them rendered.
</CITIZEN 2>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Cassius, with some of the Citizens; Brutus goes into the pulpit.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CITIZEN 3>	<56%>
	The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!
</CITIZEN 3>

<BRUTUS>	<56%>
	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 Cæsar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Cæsar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living, and die all slaves, than that Cæsar were dead, to live all free men? As Cæsar 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.
</BRUTUS>

<CITIZENS>	<57%>
	None, Brutus, none.
</CITIZENS>

<BRUTUS>	<57%>
	Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæsar, 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.

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Antony and Others, with Cæsar's body.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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.
<CITIZENS>	<57%>
	Live, Brutus! live! live!
</CITIZENS>

<CITIZEN 1>	<57%>
	Bring him with triumph home unto his house.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<57%>
	Give him a statue with his ancestors.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 3>	<58%>
	Let him be Cæsar.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 4>	<58%>
	Cæsar's better parts
	Shall be crown'd in Brutus.
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZEN 1>	<58%>
	We'll bring him to his house with shouts and clamours.
</CITIZEN 1>

<BRUTUS>	<58%>
	My countrymen,—
</BRUTUS>

<CITIZEN 2>	<58%>
	Peace! silence! Brutus speaks.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 1>	<58%>
	Peace, ho!
</CITIZEN 1>

<BRUTUS>	<58%>
	Good countrymen, let me depart alone,
	And, for my sake, stay here with Antony.
	Do grace to Cæsar's corpse, and grace his speech
	Tending to Cæsar's glories, which Mark Antony,
	By our permission, is allow'd to make.
	I do entreat you, not a man depart,
	Save I alone, till Antony have spoke.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CITIZEN 1>	<58%>
	Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 3>	<58%>
	Let him go up into the public chair;
	We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.
</CITIZEN 3>

<ANTONIUS>	<58%>
	For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you.
</ANTONIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Goes up.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CITIZEN 4>	<58%>
	What does he say of Brutus?
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZEN 3>	<58%>
	He says, for Brutus' sake,
	He finds himself beholding to us all.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 4>	<58%>
	'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZEN 1>	<58%>
	This Cæsar was a tyrant.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 3>	<58%>
	Nay, that's certain:
	We are bless'd that Rome is rid of him.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 2>	<58%>
	Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.
</CITIZEN 2>

<ANTONIUS>	<59%>
	You gentle Romans,—
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZENS>	<59%>
	Peace, ho! let us hear him.
</CITIZENS>

<ANTONIUS>	<59%>
	Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
	I come to bury Cæsar, 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 Cæsar. The noble Brutus
	Hath told you Cæsar was ambitious;
	If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
	And grievously hath Cæsar answer'd it.
	Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest,—
	For Brutus is an honourable man;
	So are they all, all honourable men,—
	Come I to speak in Cæsar'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 Cæsar seem ambitious?
	When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept;
	Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
	Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
	And Brutus is an honourable man.
	You all did see that on the Lupercal
	I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
	Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
	Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
	And, sure, he is an honourable man.
	I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
	But here I am to speak what I do know,
	You all did love him once, not without cause:
	What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
	O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
	And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
	My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,
	And I must pause till it come back to me.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZEN 1>	<60%>
	Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<60%>
	If thou consider rightly of the matter,
	Cæsar has had great wrong.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 3>	<60%>
	Has he, masters?
	I fear there will a worse come in his place.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 4>	<60%>
	Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown;
	Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious.
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZEN 1>	<60%>
	If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<60%>
	Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 3>	<60%>
	There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 4>	<60%>
	Now mark him; he begins again to speak.
</CITIZEN 4>

<ANTONIUS>	<60%>
	But yesterday the word of Cæsar might
	Have stood against the world; now lies he there,
	And none so poor to do him reverence.
	O masters! if I were dispos'd to stir
	Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
	I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
	Who, you all know, are honourable men.
	I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
	To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
	Than I will wrong such honourable men
	But here's a parchment with the seal of Cæsar;
	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 Cæsar'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.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZEN 4>	<61%>
	We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZENS>	<61%>
	The will, the will! we will hear Cæsar's will.
</CITIZENS>

<ANTONIUS>	<61%>
	Have patience, gentle friends; I must not read it:
	It is not meet you know how Cæsar lov'd you.
	You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
	And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar,
	It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
	'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;
	For if you should, O! what would come of it.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZEN 4>	<61%>
	Read the will! we'll hear it, Antony;
	You shall read us the will, Cæsar's will.
</CITIZEN 4>

<ANTONIUS>	<61%>
	Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile?
	I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it.
	I fear I wrong the honourable men
	Whose daggers have stabb'd Cæsar; I do fear it.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZEN 4>	<62%>
	They were traitors: honourable men!
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZENS>	<62%>
	The will! the testament!
</CITIZENS>

<CITIZEN 2>	<62%>
	They were villains, murderers. The will! read the will.
</CITIZEN 2>

<ANTONIUS>	<62%>
	You will compel me then to read the will?
	Then make a ring about the corpse of Cæsar,
	And let me show you him that made the will.
	Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZENS>	<62%>
	Come down.
</CITIZENS>

<CITIZEN 2>	<62%>
	Descend.
</CITIZEN 2>
<STAGE DIR>
<Antony comes down.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CITIZEN 3>	<62%>
	You shall have leave.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 4>	<62%>
	A ring; stand round.
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZEN 1>	<62%>
	Stand from the hearse; stand from the body.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<62%>
	Room for Antony; most noble Antony.
</CITIZEN 2>

<ANTONIUS>	<62%>
	Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZENS>	<62%>
	Stand back! room! bear back!
</CITIZENS>

<ANTONIUS>	<62%>
	If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
	You all do know this mantle: I remember
	The first time ever Cæsar put it on;
	'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,
	That day he overcame the Nervii.
	Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through:
	See what a rent the envious Casca made:
	Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;
	And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
	Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it,
	As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd
	If Brutus so unkindly knock'd or no;
	For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel:
	Judge, O you gods! how dearly Cæsar lov'd him.
	This was the most unkindest cut of all;
	For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
	Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
	Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;
	And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
	Even at the base of Pompey's status,
	Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.
	O! what a fall was there, my countrymen;
	Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
	Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
	O! now you weep, and I perceive you feel
	The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
	Kind souls, what! weep you when you but behold
	Our Cæsar's vesture wounded? Look you here,
	Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZEN 1>	<63%>
	O piteous spectacle!
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<63%>
	O noble Cæsar!
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 3>	<63%>
	O woeful day!
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 4>	<63%>
	O traitors! villains!
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZEN 1>	<63%>
	O most bloody sight!
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<63%>
	We will be revenged.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZENS>	<63%>
	Revenge!—About!—Seek!—Burn!
	Fire!—Kill!—Slay! Let not a traitor live.
</CITIZENS>

<ANTONIUS>	<63%>
	Stay, countrymen!
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZEN 1>	<63%>
	Peace there! Hear the noble Antony.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<64%>
	We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.
</CITIZEN 2>

<ANTONIUS>	<64%>
	Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
	To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
	They that have done this deed are honourable:
	What private griefs they have, alas! I know not,
	That made them do it; they are wise and honourable,
	And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
	I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts:
	I am no orator, as Brutus is;
	But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
	That love my friend; and that they know full well
	That gave me public leave to speak of him.
	For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
	Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
	To stir men's blood: I only speak right on;
	I tell you that which you yourselves do know,
	Show you sweet Cæsar'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 Cæsar, that should move
	The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZENS>	<64%>
	We'll mutiny.
</CITIZENS>

<CITIZEN 1>	<64%>
	We'll burn the house of Brutus.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 3>	<64%>
	Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.
</CITIZEN 3>

<ANTONIUS>	<64%>
	Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZENS>	<65%>
	Peace, ho!—Hear Antony,—most noble Antony.
</CITIZENS>

<ANTONIUS>	<65%>
	Why, friends, you go to do you know not what.
	Wherein hath Cæsar thus deserv'd your loves?
	Alas! you know not: I must tell you then.
	You have forgot the will I told you of.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZENS>	<65%>
	Most true. The will! let's stay and hear the will.
</CITIZENS>

<ANTONIUS>	<65%>
	Here is the will, and under Cæsar's seal.
	To every Roman citizen he gives,
	To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZEN 2>	<65%>
	Most noble Cæsar! we'll revenge his death.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 3>	<65%>
	O royal Cæsar!
</CITIZEN 3>

<ANTONIUS>	<65%>
	Hear me with patience.
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZENS>	<65%>
	Peace, ho!
</CITIZENS>

<ANTONIUS>	<65%>
	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 Cæsar! when comes such another?
</ANTONIUS>

<CITIZEN 1>	<65%>
	Never, never! Come, away, away!
	We'll burn his body in the holy place,
	And with the brands fire the traitors' houses.
	Take up the body.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<65%>
	Go fetch fire.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 3>	<65%>
	Pluck down benches.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 4>	<65%>
	Pluck down forms, windows, any thing.
</CITIZEN 4>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt Citizens, with the body.>
</STAGE DIR>

<ANTONIUS>	<66%>
	Now let it work: mischief, thou art afoot,
	Take thou what course thou wilt!

</ANTONIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter a Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	How now, fellow!
<SERVANT>	<66%>
	Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
</SERVANT>

<ANTONIUS>	<66%>
	Where is he?
</ANTONIUS>

<SERVANT>	<66%>
	He and Lepidus are at Cæsar's house.
</SERVANT>

<ANTONIUS>	<66%>
	And thither will I straight to visit him.
	He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,
	And in this mood will give us any thing.
</ANTONIUS>

<SERVANT>	<66%>
	I heard him say Brutus and Cassius
	Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
</SERVANT>

<ANTONIUS>	<66%>
	Belike they had some notice of the people,
	How I had mov'd them. Bring me to Octavius.
</ANTONIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 2>


<SCENE 3>
<The Same. A Street.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Cinna, the Poet.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CINNA>	<66%>
	I dreamt to-night that I did feast with Cæsar,
	And things unlucky charge my fantasy:
	I have no will to wander forth of doors,
	Yet something leads me forth.

</CINNA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Citizens.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CITIZEN 1>	<66%>
	What is your name?
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 2>	<66%>
	Whither are you going?
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 3>	<66%>
	Where do you dwell?
</CITIZEN 3>

<CITIZEN 4>	<66%>
	Are you a married man, or a bachelor?
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZEN 2>	<66%>
	Answer every man directly.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 1>	<66%>
	Ay, and briefly.
</CITIZEN 1>

<CITIZEN 4>	<66%>
	Ay, and wisely.
</CITIZEN 4>

<CITIZEN 3>	<67%>
	Ay, and truly, you were best.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CINNA>	<67%>
	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.
</CINNA>

<CITIZEN 2>	<67%>
	That's as much as to say, they are fools that marry; you'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed; directly.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CINNA>	<67%>
	Directly, I am going to Cæsar's funeral.
</CINNA>

<CITIZEN 1>	<67%>
	As a friend or an enemy?
</CITIZEN 1>

<CINNA>	<67%>
	As a friend.
</CINNA>

<CITIZEN 2>	<67%>
	That matter is answered directly.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 4>	<67%>
	For your dwelling, briefly.
</CITIZEN 4>

<CINNA>	<67%>
	Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.
</CINNA>

<CITIZEN 3>	<67%>
	Your name, sir, truly.
</CITIZEN 3>

<CINNA>	<67%>
	Truly, my name is Cinna.
</CINNA>

<CITIZEN 2>	<67%>
	Tear him to pieces; he's a conspirator.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CINNA>	<67%>
	I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.
</CINNA>

<CITIZEN 4>	<67%>
	Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses.
</CITIZEN 4>

<CINNA>	<67%>
	I am not Cinna the conspirator.
</CINNA>

<CITIZEN 2>	<67%>
	It is no matter, his name's Cinna; pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going.
</CITIZEN 2>

<CITIZEN 3>	<67%>
	Tear him, tear him! Come, brands, ho! firebrands! To Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all. Some to Decius' house, and some to Casca's; some to Ligarius'. Away! go!
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</CITIZEN 3>

</SCENE 3>

</ACT 3>

<ACT 4>


<SCENE 1>
<Rome. A Room in Antony's House.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus, seated at a table.>
</STAGE DIR>
<ANTONIUS>	<68%>
	These many then shall die; their names are prick'd.
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<68%>
	Your brother too must die; consent you, Lepidus?
</OCTAVIUS>

<LEPIDUS>	<68%>
	I do consent.
</LEPIDUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<68%>
	Prick him down, Antony.
</OCTAVIUS>

<LEPIDUS>	<68%>
	Upon condition Publius shall not live,
	Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.
</LEPIDUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<68%>
	He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him.
	But, Lepidus, go you to Cæsar's house;
	Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine
	How to cut off some charge in legacies.
</ANTONIUS>

<LEPIDUS>	<68%>
	What! shall I find you here?
</LEPIDUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<68%>
	Or here or at the Capitol.
</OCTAVIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Lepidus.>
</STAGE DIR>

<ANTONIUS>	<68%>
	This is a slight unmeritable man,
	Meet to be sent on errands: is it fit,
	The three-fold world divided, he should stand
	One of the three to share it?
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<68%>
	So you thought him;
	And took his voice who should be prick'd to die,
	In our black sentence and proscription.
</OCTAVIUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<68%>
	Octavius, I have seen more days than you:
	And though we lay these honours on this man,
	To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads,
	He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold,
	To groan and sweat under the business,
	Either led or driven, as we point the way;
	And having brought our treasure where we will,
	Then take we down his load, and turn him off,
	Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears,
	And graze in commons.
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<69%>
	You may do your will;
	But he's a tried and valiant soldier.
</OCTAVIUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<69%>
	So is my horse, Octavius; and for that
	I do appoint him store of provender.
	It is a creature that I teach to fight,
	To wind, to stop, to run directly on,
	His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit.
	And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so;
	He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth;
	A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds
	On abject orts, and imitations,
	Which, out of use and stal'd by other men,
	Begin his fashion: do not talk of him
	But as a property. And now, Octavius,
	Listen great things: Brutus and Cassius
	Are levying powers; we must straight make head;
	Therefore let our alliance be combin'd,
	Our best friends made, and our best means stretch'd out;
	And let us presently go sit in council,
	How covert matters may be best disclos'd,
	And open perils surest answered.
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<69%>
	Let us do so: for we are at the stake,
	And bay'd about with many enemies;
	And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear,
	Millions of mischiefs.
</OCTAVIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 1>


<SCENE 2>
<Camp near Sardis. Before Brutus' Tent.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucilius, Lucius, and Soldiers: Titinius and Pindarus meet them.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<70%>
	Stand, ho!
</BRUTUS>

<LUCILIUS>	<70%>
	Give the word, ho! and stand.
</LUCILIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<70%>
	What now, Lucilius! is Cassius near?
</BRUTUS>

<LUCILIUS>	<70%>
	He is at hand; and Pindarus is come
	To do you salutation from his master.
</LUCILIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Pindarus gives a letter to Brutus.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<70%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<PINDARUS>	<70%>
	I do not doubt
	But that my noble master will appear
	Such as he is, full of regard and honour.
</PINDARUS>

<BRUTUS>	<70%>
	He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius;
	How he receiv'd you, let me be resolv'd.
</BRUTUS>

<LUCILIUS>	<70%>
	With courtesy and with respect enough;
	But not with such familiar instances,
	Nor with such free and friendly conference,
	As he hath us'd of old.
</LUCILIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<70%>
	Thou hast describ'd
	A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius,
	When love begins to sicken and decay,
	It useth an enforced ceremony.
	There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
	But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
	Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;
	But when they should endure the bloody spur,
	They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades,
	Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?
</BRUTUS>

<LUCILIUS>	<71%>
	They mean this night in Sardis to be quarter'd;
	The greater part, the horse in general,
	Are come with Cassius.
</LUCILIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<71%>
	Hark! he is arriv'd.
<STAGE DIR>
<Low march within.>
</STAGE DIR>
	March gently on to meet him.

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Cassius and Soldiers.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CASCA>	<71%>
	Stand, ho!
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<71%>
	Stand, ho! Speak the word along.
</BRUTUS>

<SOLDIER 1>	<71%>
	Stand!
</SOLDIER 1>

<SOLDIER 2>	<71%>
	Stand!
</SOLDIER 2>

<SOLDIER 3>	<71%>
	Stand!
</SOLDIER 3>

<CASCA>	<71%>
	Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<71%>
	Judge me, you gods! Wrong I mine enemies?
	And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<71%>
	Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs;
	And when you do them—
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<71%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<72%>
	Pindarus,
	Bid our commanders lead their charges off
	A little from this ground.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<72%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 2>


<SCENE 3>
<Within the Tent of Brutus.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Brutus and Cassius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CASCA>	<72%>
	That you have wrong'd me doth appear in this:
	You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella
	For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
	Wherein my letters, praying on his side,
	Because I knew the man, were slighted off.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<72%>
	You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<72%>
	In such a time as this it is not meet
	That every nice offence should bear his comment.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<72%>
	Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
	Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;
	To sell and mart your offices for gold
	To undeservera.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<72%>
	I an itching palm!
	You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
	Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<72%>
	The name of Cassius honours this corruption,
	And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<73%>
	Chastisement!
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<73%>
	Remember March, the ides of March remember:
	Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?
	What villain touch'd his body, that did stab,
	And not for justice? What! shall one of us,
	That struck the foremost man of all this world
	But for supporting robbers, shall we now
	Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
	And sell the mighty space of our large honours
	For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
	I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
	Than such a Roman.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<73%>
	Brutus, bay not me;
	I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
	To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I,
	Older in practice, abler than yourself
	To make conditions.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<73%>
	Go to; you are not, Cassius.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<73%>
	I am.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<73%>
	I say you are not.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<73%>
	Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;
	Have mind upon your health; tempt me no further.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<73%>
	Away, slight man!
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<73%>
	Is 't possible?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<73%>
	Hear me, for I will speak.
	Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
	Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<73%>
	O ye gods! ye gods! Must I endure all this?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<73%>
	All this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break;
	Go show your slaves how choleric you are,
	And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?
	Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
	Under your testy humour? By the gods,
	You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
	Though it do split you; for, from this day forth,
	I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
	When you are waspish.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<74%>
	Is it come to this?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<74%>
	You say you are a better soldier:
	Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,
	And it shall please me well. For mine own part,
	I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<74%>
	You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus;
	I said an elder soldier, not a better:
	Did I say, 'better?'
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<74%>
	If you did, I care not.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<74%>
	When Cæsar liv'd, he durst not thus have mov'd me.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<74%>
	Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<74%>
	I durst not!
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<74%>
	No.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<74%>
	What! durst not tempt him!
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<74%>
	For your life you durst not.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<74%>
	Do not presume too much upon my love;
	I may do that I shall be sorry for.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<74%>
	You have done that you should be sorry for.
	There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;
	For I am arm'd so strong in honesty
	That they pass by me as the idle wind,
	Which I respect not. I did send to you
	For certain sums of gold, which you denied me;
	For I can raise no money by vile means:
	By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
	And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
	From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
	By any indirection. I did send
	To you for gold to pay my legions,
	Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?
	Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?
	When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
	To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
	Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts;
	Dash him to pieces!
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<75%>
	I denied you not.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<75%>
	You did.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<75%>
	I did not: he was but a fool
	That brought my answer back. Brutus hath riv'd my heart.
	A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
	But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<75%>
	I do not, till you practise them on me.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<75%>
	You love me not.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<75%>
	I do not like your faults.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<75%>
	A friendly eye could never see such faults.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<75%>
	A flatterer's would not, though they do appear
	As huge as high Olympus.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<75%>
	Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
	Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
	For Cassius is aweary of the world;
	Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother;
	Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observ'd,
	Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
	To cast into my teeth. O! I could weep
	My spirit from mine eyes. There is my dagger,
	And here my naked breast; within, a heart
	Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:
	If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;
	I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart:
	Strike, as thou didst at Cæsar; for, I know,
	When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dst him better
	Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<76%>
	Sheathe your dagger:
	Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
	Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
	O Cassius! you are yoked with a lamb
	That carries anger as the flint bears fire,
	Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
	And straight is cold again.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<76%>
	Hath Cassius liv'd
	To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
	When grief and blood ill-temper'd vexeth him?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<76%>
	When I spoke that I was ill-temper'd too.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<76%>
	Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<76%>
	And my heart too.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<76%>
	O Brutus!
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<76%>
	What's the matter?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<76%>
	Have not you love enough to bear with me,
	When that rash humour which my mother gave me
	Makes me forgetful?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<76%>
	Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth
	When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
	He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Noise within.>
</STAGE DIR>

<POET>	<77%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Within.>
</STAGE DIR> Let me go in to see the generals;
	There is some grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet
	They be alone.
</POET>

<LUCILIUS>	<77%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Within.>
</STAGE DIR> You shall not come to them.
</LUCILIUS>

<POET>	<77%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Within.>
</STAGE DIR> Nothing but death shall stay me.

</POET>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CASCA>	<77%>
	How now! What's the matter?
</CASCA>

<POET>	<77%>
	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.
</POET>

<CASCA>	<77%>
	Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rime!
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<77%>
	Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<77%>
	Bear with him, Brutus; 'tis his fashion.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<77%>
	I'll know his humour, when he knows his time:
	What should the wars do with these jigging fools?
	Companion, hence!
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<77%>
	Away, away! be gone.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Poet.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<77%>
	Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
	Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<77%>
	And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you,
	Immediately to us.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<78%>
	Lucius, a bowl of wine!
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CASCA>	<78%>
	I did not think you could have been so angry.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<78%>
	O Cassius! I am sick of many griefs.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<78%>
	Of your philosophy you make no use
	If you give place to accidental evils.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<78%>
	No man bears sorrow better: Portia is dead.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<78%>
	Ha! Portia!
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<78%>
	She is dead.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<78%>
	How 'scap'd I killing when I cross'd you so?
	O insupportable and touching loss!
	Upon what sickness?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<78%>
	Impatient of my absence,
	And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony
	Have made themselves so strong;—for with her death
	That tidings came:—with this she fell distract,
	And, her attendants absent, swallow'd fire.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<78%>
	And died so?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<78%>
	Even so.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<78%>
	O ye immortal gods!

</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Lucius, with wine and tapers.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<78%>
	Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine.
	In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Drinks.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CASCA>	<78%>
	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.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Drinks.>
</STAGE DIR>

<BRUTUS>	<79%>
	Come in, Titinius.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>

<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Titinius, with Messala.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Welcome, good Messala.
	Now sit we close about this taper here,
</BRUTUS>
	And call in question our necessities.
<CASCA>	<79%>
	Portia, art thou gone?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<79%>
	No more, I pray you.
	Messala, I have here received letters,
	That young Octavius and Mark Antony
	Come down upon us with a mighty power,
	Bending their expedition towards Philippi.
</BRUTUS>

<MESSALA>	<79%>
	Myself have letters of the self-same tenour.
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<79%>
	With what addition?
</BRUTUS>

<MESSALA>	<79%>
	That by proscription and bills of outlawry,
	Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,
	Have put to death an hundred senators.
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<79%>
	Therein our letters do not well agree;
	Mine speak of seventy senators that died
	By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<79%>
	Cicero one!
</CASCA>

<MESSALA>	<79%>
	Cicero is dead,
	And by that order of proscription.
	Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<79%>
	No, Messala.
</BRUTUS>

<MESSALA>	<79%>
	Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<79%>
	Nothing, Messala.
</BRUTUS>

<MESSALA>	<79%>
	That, methinks, is strange.
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<79%>
	Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours?
</BRUTUS>

<MESSALA>	<79%>
	No, my lord.
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<79%>
	Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
</BRUTUS>

<MESSALA>	<80%>
	Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell:
	For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<80%>
	Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala:
	With meditating that she must die once,
	I have the patience to endure it now.
</BRUTUS>

<MESSALA>	<80%>
	Even so great men great losses should endure.
</MESSALA>

<CASCA>	<80%>
	I have as much of this in art as you,
	But yet my nature could not bear it so.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<80%>
	Well, to our work alive. What do you think
	Of marching to Philippi presently?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<80%>
	I do not think it good.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<80%>
	Your reason?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<80%>
	This is it:
	'Tis better that the enemy seek us:
	So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
	Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,
	Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<80%>
	Good reasons must, of force, give place to better,
	The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground
	Do stand but in a forc'd affection;
	For they have grudg'd us contribution:
	The enemy, marching along by them,
	By them shall make a fuller number up,
	Come on refresh'd, new-added, and encourag'd;
	From which advantage shall we cut him off,
	If at Philippi we do face him there,
	These people at our back.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<80%>
	Hear me, good brother.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<81%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<81%>
	Then, with your will, go on;
	We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<81%>
	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?
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<81%>
	No more. Good-night:
	Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<81%>
	Lucius!

<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
	My gown.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Lucius.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Farewell, good Messala:
	Good-night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius,
</BRUTUS>
	Good-night, and good repose.
<CASCA>	<81%>
	O my dear brother!
	This was an ill beginning of the night:
	Never come such division 'tween our souls!
	Let it not, Brutus.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<81%>
	Every thing is well.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<81%>
	Good-night, my lord.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<82%>
	Good-night, good brother.
</BRUTUS>

<TITINIUS>	<82%>
	Good-night, Lord Brutus.
</TITINIUS>

<MESSALA>	<82%>
	Good-night, Lord Brutus.
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<82%>
	Farewell, every one.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt Cassius, Titinius, and Messala.>
</STAGE DIR>

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Lucius, with the gown.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
<LUCIUS>	<82%>
	Here in the tent.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<82%>
	What! thou speak'st drowsily?
	Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'erwatch'd.
	Call Claudius and some other of my men;
	I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<82%>
	Varro! and Claudius!

</LUCIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Varro and Claudius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<VARRO>	<82%>
	Calls my lord?
</VARRO>

<BRUTUS>	<82%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<VARRO>	<82%>
	So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.
</VARRO>

<BRUTUS>	<82%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Varro and Claudius lie down.>
</STAGE DIR>

<LUCIUS>	<82%>
	I was sure your lordship did not give it me.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<82%>
	Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.
	Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
	And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<83%>
	Ay, my lord, an 't please you.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<83%>
	It does, my boy:
	I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<83%>
	It is my duty, sir.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<83%>
	I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
	I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<83%>
	I have slept, my lord, already.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<83%>
	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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Music, and a Song.>
</STAGE DIR>
	This is a sleepy tune: O murderous slumber!
	Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,
	That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good-night;
	I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.
	If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument;
	I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good-night.
	Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn'd down
	Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter the Ghost of Cæsar.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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?
</BRUTUS>
	Speak to me what thou art.
<GHOST>	<84%>
	Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
</GHOST>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Why com'st thou?
</BRUTUS>

<GHOST>	<84%>
	To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
</GHOST>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Well; then I shall see thee again?
</BRUTUS>

<GHOST>	<84%>
	Ay, at Philippi.
</GHOST>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Why, I will see thee at Philippi then.
<STAGE DIR>
<Ghost vanishes.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Now I have taken heart thou vanishest:
	Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.
	Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake!
	Claudius!
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<84%>
	The strings, my lord, are false.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	He thinks he still is at his instrument.
	Lucius, awake!
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<84%>
	My lord!
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<84%>
	My lord, I do not know that I did cry.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see any thing?
</BRUTUS>

<LUCIUS>	<84%>
	Nothing, my lord.
</LUCIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah, Claudius!
	Fellow thou! awake!
</BRUTUS>

<VARRO>	<84%>
	My lord!
</VARRO>

<CLAUDIUS>	<84%>
	My lord!
</CLAUDIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?
</BRUTUS>

<VARRO>	<84%>
	Did we, my lord?
</VARRO>

<CLAUDIUS>	<84%>
	Did we, my lord?
</CLAUDIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Ay: saw you any thing?
</BRUTUS>

<VARRO>	<84%>
	No, my lord, I saw nothing.
</VARRO>

<CLAUDIUS>	<84%>
	Nor I, my lord.
</CLAUDIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<84%>
	Go, and commend me to my brother Cassius.
	Bid him set on his powers betimes before,
	And we will follow.
</BRUTUS>

<VARRO>	<85%>
	It shall be done, my lord.
</VARRO>

<CLAUDIUS>	<85%>
	It shall be done, my lord.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</CLAUDIUS>

</SCENE 3>

</ACT 4>

<ACT 5>


<SCENE 1>
<The Plains of Philippi.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.>
</STAGE DIR>
<OCTAVIUS>	<85%>
	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.
</OCTAVIUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<85%>
	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.

</ANTONIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter a Messenger.>
</STAGE DIR>
<MESSENGER>	<85%>
	Prepare you, generals:
	The enemy comes on in gallant show;
	Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
	And something to be done immediately.
</MESSENGER>

<ANTONIUS>	<85%>
	Octavius, lead your battle softly on,
	Upon the left hand of the even field.
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<85%>
	Upon the right hand I; keep thou the left.
</OCTAVIUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<85%>
	Why do you cross me in this exigent?
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<85%>
	I do not cross you; but I will do so.
<STAGE DIR>
<March.>
</STAGE DIR>

</OCTAVIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army; Lucilius, Titinius, Messala, and Others.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<86%>
	They stand, and would have parley.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<86%>
	Stand fast, Titinius: we must out and talk.
</CASCA>

<OCTAVIUS>	<86%>
	Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?
</OCTAVIUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<86%>
	No, Cæsar, we will answer on their charge.
	Make forth; the generals would have some words.
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<86%>
	Stir not until the signal.
</OCTAVIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<86%>
	Words before blows: is it so, countrymen?
</BRUTUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<86%>
	Not that we love words better, as you do.
</OCTAVIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<86%>
	Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.
</BRUTUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<86%>
	In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words:
	Witness the hole you made in Cæsar's heart,
	Crying, 'Long live! hail, Cæsar!'
</ANTONIUS>

<CASCA>	<86%>
	Antony,
	The posture of your blows are yet unknown;
	But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,
	And leave them honeyless.
</CASCA>

<ANTONIUS>	<86%>
	Not stingless too.
</ANTONIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<86%>
	O! yes, and soundless too;
	For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony,
	And very wisely threat before you sting.
</BRUTUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<86%>
	Villains! you did not so when your vile daggers
	Hack'd one another in the sides of Cæsar:
	How show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds,
	And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Cæsar's feet;
	Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind
	Struck Cæsar on the neck. O you flatterers!
</ANTONIUS>

<CASCA>	<87%>
	Flatterers! Now, Brutus, thank yourself:
	This tongue had not offended so to-day,
	If Cassius might have rul'd.
</CASCA>

<OCTAVIUS>	<87%>
	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 Cæsar's three-and-thirty wounds
	Be well aveng'd; or till another Cæsar
	Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
</OCTAVIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<87%>
	Cæsar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands,
	Unless thou bring'st them with thee.
</BRUTUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<87%>
	So I hope;
	I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.
</OCTAVIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<87%>
	O! if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
	Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<87%>
	A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour,
	Join'd with a masquer and a reveller.
</CASCA>

<ANTONIUS>	<87%>
	Old Cassius still!
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<87%>
	Come, Antony; away!
	Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth.
	If you dare fight to-day, come to the field;
	If not, when you have stomachs.
</OCTAVIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their Army.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CASCA>	<87%>
	Why now, blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!
	The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<88%>
	Ho!
	Lucilius! hark, a word with you.
</BRUTUS>

<LUCILIUS>	<88%>
	My lord?
</LUCILIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Brutus and Lucilius talk apart.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CASCA>	<88%>
	Messala!
</CASCA>

<MESSALA>	<88%>
	What says my general?
</MESSALA>

<CASCA>	<88%>
	Messala,
	This is my birth-day; as this very day
	Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala:
	Be thou my witness that against my will,
	As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set
	Upon one battle all our liberties.
	You know that I held Epicurus strong,
	And his opinion; now I change my mind,
	And partly credit things that do presage.
	Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
	Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch'd,
	Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands;
	Who to Philippi here consorted us:
	This morning are they fled away and gone,
	And in their stead do ravens, crows, and kites
	Fly o'er our heads, and downward look on us,
	As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem
	A canopy most fatal, under which
	Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.
</CASCA>

<MESSALA>	<88%>
	Believe not so.
</MESSALA>

<CASCA>	<88%>
	I but believe it partly,
	For I am fresh of spirit and resolv'd
	To meet all perils very constantly.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<88%>
	Even so, Lucilius.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<88%>
	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?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<89%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<89%>
	Then, if we lose this battle,
	You are contented to be led in triumph
	Thorough the streets of Rome?
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<89%>
	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.
</BRUTUS>

<CASCA>	<89%>
	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.
</CASCA>

<BRUTUS>	<90%>
	Why, then, lead on. O! that a man might know
	The end of this day's business, ere it come;
	But it sufficeth that the day will end,
	And then the end is known. Come, ho! away!
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 1>


<SCENE 2>
<The Same. The Field of Battle.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<90%>
	Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills
	Unto the legions on the other side.
<STAGE DIR>
<Loud alarum.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Let them set on at once, for I perceive
	But cold demeanour in Octavius' wing,
	And sudden push gives them the overthrow.
	Ride, ride, Messala: let them all come down.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 2>


<SCENE 3>
<Another Part of the Field.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Alarum. Enter Cassius and Titinius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<CASCA>	<90%>
	O! look, Titinius, look, the villains fly:
	Myself have to mine own turn'd enemy;
	This ensign here of mine was turning back;
	I slew the coward, and did take it from him.
</CASCA>

<TITINIUS>	<90%>
	O Cassius! Brutus gave the word too early;
	Who, having some advantage on Octavius,
	Took it too eagerly: his soldiers fell to spoil,
	Whilst we by Antony are all enclos'd.

</TITINIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Pindarus.>
</STAGE DIR>
<PINDARUS>	<91%>
	Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;
	Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord:
	Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.
</PINDARUS>

<CASCA>	<91%>
	This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius;
	Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?
</CASCA>

<TITINIUS>	<91%>
	They are, my lord.
</TITINIUS>

<CASCA>	<91%>
	Titinius, if thou lov'st me,
	Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him,
	Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops
	And here again; that I may rest assur'd
	Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.
</CASCA>

<TITINIUS>	<91%>
	I will be here again, even with a thought.
</TITINIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CASCA>	<91%>
	Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill;
	My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,
	And tell me what thou not'st about the field.
<STAGE DIR>
<Pindarus ascends the hill.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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?
</CASCA>

<PINDARUS>	<91%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Above.>
</STAGE DIR> O my lord!
</PINDARUS>

<CASCA>	<91%>
	What news?
</CASCA>

<PINDARUS>	<91%>
	Titinius is enclosed round about
	With horsemen, that make to him on the spur;
	Yet he spurs on: now they are almost on him;
	Now, Titinius! now some light; O! he lights too:
	He's ta'en; <STAGE DIR>
<Shout.>
</STAGE DIR> and, hark! they shout for joy.
</PINDARUS>

<CASCA>	<92%>
	Come down; behold no more.
	O, coward that I am, to live so long,
	To see my best friend ta'en before my face!
<STAGE DIR>
<Pindarus descends.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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 Cæsar's bowels, search this bosom.
	Stand not to answer; here, take thou the hilts;
	And, when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now,
	Guide thou the sword. Cæsar, thou art reveng'd,
	Even with the sword that kill'd thee.
</CASCA>
<STAGE DIR>
<Dies.>
</STAGE DIR>

<PINDARUS>	<92%>
	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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

</PINDARUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Titinius with Messala.>
</STAGE DIR>
<MESSALA>	<92%>
	It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius
	Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,
	As Cassius' legions are by Antony.
</MESSALA>

<TITINIUS>	<92%>
	These tidings will well comfort Cassius.
</TITINIUS>

<MESSALA>	<93%>
	Where did you leave him?
</MESSALA>

<TITINIUS>	<93%>
	All disconsolate,
	With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.
</TITINIUS>

<MESSALA>	<93%>
	Is not that he that lies upon the ground?
</MESSALA>

<TITINIUS>	<93%>
	He lies not like the living. O my heart!
</TITINIUS>

<MESSALA>	<93%>
	Is not that he?
</MESSALA>

<TITINIUS>	<93%>
	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.
</TITINIUS>

<MESSALA>	<93%>
	Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.
	O hateful error, melancholy's child!
	Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men
	The things that are not? O error! soon conceiv'd,
	Thou never com'st unto a happy birth,
	But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee.
</MESSALA>

<TITINIUS>	<93%>
	What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus?
</TITINIUS>

<MESSALA>	<93%>
	Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet
	The noble Brutus, thrusting this report
	Into his ears; I may say, thrusting it;
	For piercing steel and darts envenomed
	Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus
	As tidings of this sight.
</MESSALA>

<TITINIUS>	<93%>
	Hie you, Messala,
	And I will seek for Pindarus the while.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Messala.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?
	Did I not meet thy friends? and did not they
	Put on my brows this wreath of victory,
	And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts?
	Alas! thou hast misconstru'd every thing.
	But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
	Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
	Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace,
	And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
	By your leave, gods: this is a Roman's part:
	Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart.
<STAGE DIR>
<Kills himself.>
</STAGE DIR>

</TITINIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Alarum. Re-enter Messala, with Brutus, Young Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<94%>
	Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
</BRUTUS>

<MESSALA>	<94%>
	Lo, yonder: and Titinius mourning it.
</MESSALA>

<BRUTUS>	<94%>
	Titinius' face is upward.
</BRUTUS>

<CATO>	<94%>
	He is slain.
</CATO>

<BRUTUS>	<94%>
	O Julius Cæsar! thou art mighty yet!
	Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
	In our own proper entrails.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Low alarums.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CATO>	<94%>
	Brave Titinius!
	Look whe'r he have not crown'd dead Cassius!
</CATO>

<BRUTUS>	<94%>
	Are yet two Romans living such as these?
	The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
	It is impossible that ever Rome
	Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more tears
	To this dead man than you shall see me pay.—
	I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.—
	Come therefore, and to Thassos send his body:
	His funerals shall not be in our camp,
	Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come;
	And come, young Cato;—let us to the field.
	Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on:—
	'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
	We shall try fortune in a second fight.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 3>


<SCENE 4>
<Another Part of the Field.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Alarum. Enter fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then Brutus, Young Cato, Lucilius, and Others.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<95%>
	Yet, countrymen, O! yet hold up your heads!
</BRUTUS>

<CATO>	<95%>
	What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?
	I will proclaim my name about the field:
	I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
	A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
	I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
</CATO>

<BRUTUS>	<95%>
	And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;
	Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus!
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is overpowered, and falls.>
</STAGE DIR>

<LUCILIUS>	<95%>
	O young and noble Cato, art thou down?
	Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius,
	And mayst be honour'd being Cato's son.
</LUCILIUS>

<SOLDIER 1>	<96%>
	Yield, or thou diest.
</SOLDIER 1>

<LUCILIUS>	<96%>
	Only I yield to die:
	There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight.
<STAGE DIR>
<Offering money.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.
</LUCILIUS>

<SOLDIER 1>	<96%>
	We must not. A noble prisoner!
</SOLDIER 1>

<SOLDIER 2>	<96%>
	Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.
</SOLDIER 2>

<SOLDIER 1>	<96%>
	I'll tell the news: here comes the general.

</SOLDIER 1>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Antony.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Brutus is ta'en, my lord.
<ANTONIUS>	<96%>
	Where is he?
</ANTONIUS>

<LUCILIUS>	<96%>
	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.
</LUCILIUS>

<ANTONIUS>	<96%>
	This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you,
	A prize no less in worth. Keep this man safe,
	Give him all kindness: I had rather have
	Such men my friends than enemies. Go on,
	And see whe'r Brutus be alive or dead;
	And bring us word unto Octavius' tent,
	How every thing is chanc'd.
</ANTONIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</SCENE 4>


<SCENE 5>
<Another Part of the Field.>
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.>
</STAGE DIR>
<BRUTUS>	<97%>
	Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
</BRUTUS>

<CLITUS>	<97%>
	Statilius show'd the torch-light; but, my lord,
	He came not back: he is or ta'en or slain.
</CLITUS>

<BRUTUS>	<97%>
	Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word;
	It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Whispers.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CLITUS>	<97%>
	What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
</CLITUS>

<BRUTUS>	<97%>
	Peace, then! no words.
</BRUTUS>

<CLITUS>	<97%>
	I'll rather kill myself.
</CLITUS>

<BRUTUS>	<97%>
	Hark thee, Dardanius.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Whispers.>
</STAGE DIR>

<DARDANIUS>	<97%>
	Shall I do such a deed?
</DARDANIUS>

<CLITUS>	<97%>
	O, Dardanius!
</CLITUS>

<DARDANIUS>	<97%>
	O, Clitus!
</DARDANIUS>

<CLITUS>	<97%>
	What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
</CLITUS>

<DARDANIUS>	<97%>
	To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
</DARDANIUS>

<CLITUS>	<97%>
	Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
	That it runs over even at his eyes.
</CLITUS>

<BRUTUS>	<97%>
	Come hither, good Volumnius: list a word.
</BRUTUS>

<VOLUMNIUS>	<97%>
	What says my lord?
</VOLUMNIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<97%>
	Why this, Volumnius:
	The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me
	Two several times by night; at Sardis once,
	And this last night here in Philippi fields.
	I know my hour is come.
</BRUTUS>

<VOLUMNIUS>	<97%>
	Not so, my lord.
</VOLUMNIUS>

<BRUTUS>	<97%>
	Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.
	Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
	Our enemies have beat us to the pit:
	It is more worthy to leap in ourselves,
	Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,
	Thou know'st that we two went to school together:
	Even for that our love of old, I prithee,
	Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
</BRUTUS>

<VOLUMNIUS>	<98%>
	That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
</VOLUMNIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Alarum still.>
</STAGE DIR>

<CLITUS>	<98%>
	Fly, fly, my lord! there is no tarrying here.
</CLITUS>

<BRUTUS>	<98%>
	Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius.
	Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
	Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,
	My heart doth joy that yet, in all my life,
	I found no man but he was true to me.
	I shall have glory by this losing day,
	More than Octavius and Mark Antony
	By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
	So fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
	Hath almost ended his life's history:
	Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
	That have but labour'd to attain this hour.
</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Alarum. Cry within, 'Fly, fly, fly!'>
</STAGE DIR>

<CLITUS>	<98%>
	Fly, my lord, fly.
</CLITUS>

<BRUTUS>	<98%>
	Hence! I will follow.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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?
</BRUTUS>

<STRATO>	<99%>
	Give me your hand first: fare you well, my lord.
</STRATO>

<BRUTUS>	<99%>
	Farewell, good Strato.—<STAGE DIR>
<He runs on his sword.>
</STAGE DIR> Cæsar, now be still;
	I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.
<STAGE DIR>
<Dies.>
</STAGE DIR>

</BRUTUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and Army.>
</STAGE DIR>
<OCTAVIUS>	<99%>
	What man is that?
</OCTAVIUS>

<MESSALA>	<99%>
	My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?
</MESSALA>

<STRATO>	<99%>
	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.
</STRATO>

<LUCILIUS>	<99%>
	So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,
	That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true.
</LUCILIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<99%>
	All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain them.
	Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
</OCTAVIUS>

<STRATO>	<99%>
	Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
</STRATO>

<OCTAVIUS>	<99%>
	Do so, good Messala.
</OCTAVIUS>

<MESSALA>	<99%>
	How died my master, Strato?
</MESSALA>

<STRATO>	<99%>
	I held the sword, and he did run on it.
</STRATO>

<MESSALA>	<99%>
	Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
	That did the latest service to my master.
</MESSALA>

<ANTONIUS>	<99%>
	This was the noblest Roman of them all;
	All the conspirators save only he
	Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;
	He only, in a general honest thought
	And common good to all, made one of them.
	His life was gentle, and the elements
	So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up
	And say to all the world, 'This was a man!'
</ANTONIUS>

<OCTAVIUS>	<100%>
	According to his virtue let us use him,
	With all respect and rites of burial.
	Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
	Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.
	So, call the field to rest; and let's away,
	To part the glories of this happy day.
</OCTAVIUS>
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>
</SCENE 5>
</ACT 5>
