Julius Caesar
We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar,
And in the spirit of men there is no blood.
O, that we then could come by Caesar’s spirit,
And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,
Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,
Let’s kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.
And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
And after seem to chide ’em. This shall mark
Our purpose necessary, and not envious;
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be call’d purgers, not murderers.
And for Mark Antony, think not of him;
For he can do no more than Caesar’s arm
When Caesar’s head is off.
CASSIUS.
Yet I fear him;
For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar—
BRUTUS.
Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he love Caesar, all that he can do
Is to himself; take thought and die for Caesar.
And that were much he should; for he is given
To sports, to wildness, and much company.
TREBONIUS.
There is no fear in him; let him not die;
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.
[_Clock strikes._]
BRUTUS.
Peace! count the clock.
CASSIUS.
The clock hath stricken three.
TREBONIUS.
’Tis time to part.
CASSIUS.
But it is doubtful yet
Whether Caesar will come forth today 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 today.
DECIUS.
Never fear that: if he be so resolved,
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.
CASSIUS.
Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
BRUTUS.
By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost?
CINNA.
Be that the uttermost; and fail not then.
METELLUS.
Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;
I wonder none of you have thought of him.
BRUTUS.
Now, good Metellus, go along by him:
He loves me well, and I have given him reason;
Send him but hither, and I’ll fashion him.
CASSIUS.
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.
BRUTUS.
Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
Let not our looks put on our purposes,
But bear it as our Roman actors do,
With untired spirits and formal constancy.
And so, good morrow to you everyone.
[_Exeunt all but Brutus._]
Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter;
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber:
Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,
Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
Therefore thou sleep’st so sound.
Enter Portia.
PORTIA.
Brutus, my lord.
BRUTUS.
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.
PORTIA.
Nor for yours neither. Y’ have ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my bed; and yesternight at supper,
You suddenly arose, and walk’d about,
Musing and 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.
BRUTUS.
I am not well in health, and that is all.
PORTIA.
Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health,
He would embrace the means to come by it.
BRUTUS.
Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.
PORTIA.
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 you are heavy, and what men tonight
Have had resort to you; for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.
BRUTUS.
Kneel not, gentle Portia.
PORTIA.
I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
Is it excepted I should know no secrets
That appertain to you? Am I your self
But, as it were, in sort or limitation,
To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,
And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs
Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
Portia is Brutus’ harlot, not his wife.
BRUTUS.
You are my true and honourable wife,
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart.
PORTIA.
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?
BRUTUS.
O ye gods,
Render me worthy of this noble wife!
[_Knock._]
Hark, hark, one knocks. Portia, go in awhile;
And by and by thy bosom shall partake
The secrets of my heart.
All my engagements I will construe to thee,
All the charactery of my sad brows.
Leave me with haste.
[_Exit Portia._]
Enter Lucius with Ligarius.
Lucius, who’s that knocks?
LUCIUS.
Here is a sick man that would speak with you.
BRUTUS.
Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?
LIGARIUS.
Vouchsafe good-morrow from a feeble tongue.
BRUTUS.
O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!
LIGARIUS.
I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of honour.
BRUTUS.
Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.
LIGARIUS.
By all the gods that Romans bow before,
I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome!
Brave son, derived from honourable loins!
Thou, like an exorcist, hast 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?
BRUTUS.
A piece of work that will make sick men whole.
LIGARIUS.
But are not some whole that we must make sick?
BRUTUS.
That must we also. What it is, my Caius,
I shall unfold to thee, as we are going,
To whom it must be done.
LIGARIUS.
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.
[_Thunder._]
BRUTUS.
Follow me then.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. A room in Caesar’s palace.
Thunder and lightning. Enter Caesar, in his nightgown.
CAESAR.
Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace tonight:
Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out,
“Help, ho! They murder Caesar!” Who’s within?
Enter a Servant.
SERVANT.
My lord?
CAESAR.
Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of success.
SERVANT.
I will, my lord.
[_Exit._]
Enter Calphurnia.
CALPHURNIA.
What mean you, Caesar? Think you to walk forth?
You shall not stir out of your house today.
CAESAR.
Caesar shall forth. The things that threaten’d me
Ne’er look’d but on my back; when they shall see
The face of Caesar, they are vanished.
CALPHURNIA.
Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
Besides the things that we have heard and seen,
Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.
A lioness hath whelped in the streets,
And graves have yawn’d, and yielded up their dead;
Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds
In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,
Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol;
The noise of battle hurtled in the air,
Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan,
And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets.
O Caesar, these things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them!
CAESAR.
What can be avoided
Whose end is purpos’d by the mighty gods?
Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions
Are to the world in general as to Caesar.
CALPHURNIA.
When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
CAESAR.
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear,
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
Enter Servant.
What say the augurers?
SERVANT.
They would not have you to stir forth today.
Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,
They could not find a heart within the beast.
CAESAR.
The gods do this in shame of cowardice:
Caesar should be a beast without a heart
If he should stay at home today for fear.
No, Caesar shall not. Danger knows full well
That Caesar is more dangerous than he.
We are two lions litter’d in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible,
And Caesar shall go forth.
CALPHURNIA.
Alas, my lord,
Your wisdom is consum’d in confidence.
Do not go forth today: 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 today.
Let me upon my knee prevail in this.
CAESAR.
Mark Antony shall say I am not well,
And for thy humour, I will stay at home.
Enter Decius.
Here’s Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.
DECIUS.
Caesar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar.
I come to fetch you to the Senate-house.
CAESAR.
And you are come in very happy time
To bear my greeting to the Senators,
And tell them that I will not come today.
Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser:
I will not come today. Tell them so, Decius.
CALPHURNIA.
Say he is sick.
CAESAR.
Shall Caesar send a lie?
Have I in conquest stretch’d mine arm so far,
To be afeard to tell grey-beards the truth?
Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.
DECIUS.
Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
Lest I be laugh’d at when I tell them so.
CAESAR.
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 tonight she saw my statue,
Which like a fountain with an hundred spouts
Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it.
And these does she apply for warnings and portents
And evils imminent; and on her knee
Hath begg’d that I will stay at home today.
DECIUS.
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,