The Tragedy of Julius Caesar
Уильям Шекспир




William Shakespeare

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar




Dramatis Personae

JULIUS CAESAR, Roman statesman and general

OCTAVIUS, Triumvir after Caesar's death, later Augustus Caesar, first emperor of Rome

MARK ANTONY, general and friend of Caesar, a Triumvir after his death

LEPIDUS, third member of the Triumvirate

MARCUS BRUTUS, leader of the conspiracy against Caesar

CASSIUS, instigator of the conspiracy

CASCA, conspirator against Caesar

TREBONIUS, " " "

CAIUS LIGARIUS, " " "

DECIUS BRUTUS, " " "

METELLUS CIMBER, " " "

CINNA, " " "

CALPURNIA, wife of Caesar

PORTIA, wife of Brutus

CICERO, senator

POPILIUS, "

POPILIUS LENA, "

FLAVIUS, tribune

MARULLUS, tribune

CATO, supportor of Brutus

LUCILIUS, " " "

TITINIUS, " " "

MESSALA, " " "

VOLUMNIUS, " " "

ARTEMIDORUS, a teacher of rhetoric

CINNA, a poet

VARRO, servant to Brutus

CLITUS, " " "

CLAUDIO, " " "

STRATO, " " "

LUCIUS, " " "

DARDANIUS, " " "

PINDARUS, servant to Cassius

The Ghost of Caesar

A Soothsayer

A Poet

Senators, Citizens, Soldiers, Commoners, Messengers, and Servants




SCENE: Rome, the conspirators' camp near Sardis, and the plains of Philippi





ACT I. SCENE I. Rome. A street



Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners.

		FLAVIUS. Hence, home, you idle creatures, get you home.
		Is this a holiday? What, know you not,
		Being mechanical, you ought not walk
		Upon a laboring day without the sign
		Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
		FIRST COMMONER. Why, sir, a carpenter.
		MARULLUS. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
		What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
		You, sir, what trade are you?
		SECOND COMMONER. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am
		but, as you would say, a cobbler.
		MARULLUS. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.
		SECOND COMMONER. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a
		safe
		conscience, which is indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
		MARULLUS. What trade, thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what
		trade?
		SECOND COMMONER. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me;
		yet,
		if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
		MARULLUS. What mean'st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy
		fellow!
		SECOND COMMONER. Why, sir, cobble you.
		FLAVIUS. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
		SECOND COMMONER. 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.
		FLAVIUS. But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
		Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
		SECOND COMMONER. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes to get
		myself
		into more work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday to see
		Caesar
		and to rejoice in his triumph.
		MARULLUS. 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 an universal shout
		That Tiber trembled underneath her banks
		To hear the replication of your sounds
		Made in her concave shores?
		And do you now put on your best attire?
		And do you now cull out a holiday?
		And do you now strew flowers in his way
		That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
		Be gone!
		Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
		Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
		That needs must light on this ingratitude.
		FLAVIUS. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
		Assemble all the poor men of your sort,
		Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
		Into the channel, till the lowest stream
		Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.


Exeunt all Commoners

		See whether their basest metal be not moved;
		They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
		Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
		This way will I. Disrobe the images
		If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
		MARULLUS. May we do so?
		You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
		FLAVIUS. It is no matter; let no images
		Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about
		And drive away the vulgar from the streets;
		So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
		These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing
		Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
		Who else would soar above the view of men
		And keep us all in servile fearfulness. Exeunt.




SCENE II. A public place


Flourish. Enter Caesar; Antony, for the course; Calpurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd follows, among them a Soothsayer.

		CAESAR. Calpurnia!
		CASCA. Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.
		Music ceases.
		CAESAR. Calpurnia!
		CALPURNIA. Here, my lord.
		CAESAR. Stand you directly in Antonio's way,
		When he doth run his course. Antonio!
		ANTONY. Caesar, my lord?
		CAESAR. Forget not in your speed, Antonio,
		To touch Calpurnia, for our elders say
		The barren, touched in this holy chase,
		Shake off their sterile curse.
		ANTONY. I shall remember.
		When Caesar says "Do this," it is perform'd.
		CAESAR. Set on, and leave no ceremony out. Flourish.
		SOOTHSAYER. Caesar!
		CAESAR. Ha! Who calls?
		CASCA. Bid every noise be still. Peace yet again!
		CAESAR. Who is it in the press that calls on me?
		I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
		Cry "Caesar." Speak, Caesar is turn'd to hear.
		SOOTHSAYER. Beware the ides of March.
		CAESAR. What man is that?
		BRUTUS. A soothsayer you beware the ides of March.
		CAESAR. Set him before me let me see his face.
		CASSIUS. Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.
		CAESAR. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.
		SOOTHSAYER. Beware the ides of March.
		CAESAR. He is a dreamer; let us leave him. Pass.
		Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius.
		CASSIUS. Will you go see the order of the course?
		BRUTUS. Not I.
		CASSIUS. I pray you, do.
		BRUTUS. 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.
		CASSIUS. 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.
		BRUTUS. Cassius,
		Be not deceived; if I have veil'd my look,
		I turn the trouble of my countenance
		Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
		Of late with passions of some difference,
		Conceptions only proper to myself,
		Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors;
		But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-
		Among which number, Cassius, be you one-
		Nor construe any further my neglect
		Than that poor Brutus with himself at war
		Forgets the shows of love to other men.
		CASSIUS. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,
		By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried
		Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
		Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
		BRUTUS. No, Cassius, for the eye sees not itself
		But by reflection, by some other things.
		CASSIUS. 'Tis just,
		And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
		That you have no such mirrors as will turn
		Your hidden worthiness into your eye
		That you might see your shadow. I have heard
		Where many of the best respect in Rome,
		Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus
		And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
		Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
		BRUTUS. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
		That you would have me seek into myself
		For that which is not in me?
		CASSIUS. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear,
		And since you know you cannot see yourself
		So well as by reflection, I your glass
		Will modestly discover to yourself
		That of yourself which you yet know not of.
		And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus;
		Were I a common laugher, or did use
		To stale with ordinary oaths my love
		To every new protester, if you know
		That I do fawn on men and hug them hard
		And after scandal them, or if you know
		That I profess myself in banqueting
		To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
		Flourish and shout.
		BRUTUS. What means this shouting? I do fear the people
		Choose Caesar for their king.
		CASSIUS. Ay, do you fear it?
		Then must I think you would not have it so.
		BRUTUS. 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 honor 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 honor more than I fear death.
		CASSIUS. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
		As well as I do know your outward favor.
		Well, honor is the subject of my story.
		I cannot tell what you and other men
		Think of this life, but, for my single self,
		I had as lief not be as live to be
		In awe of such a thing as I myself.
		I was born free as Caesar, so were you;
		We both have fed as well, and we can both
		Endure the winter's cold as well as he.
		For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
		The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
		Caesar said to me, "Darest thou, Cassius, now
		Leap in with me into this angry flood
		And swim to yonder point?" Upon the word,
		Accoutred as I was, I plunged in
		And bade him follow. So indeed he did.
		The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
		With lusty sinews, throwing it aside
		And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
		But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
		Caesar cried, "Help me, Cassius, or I sink!
		I, as Aeneas our great ancestor
		Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
		The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber
		Did I the tired Caesar. And this man
		Is now become a god, and Cassius is
		A wretched creature and must bend his body
		If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.
		He had a fever when he was in Spain,
		And when the fit was on him I did mark
		How he did shake. 'Tis true, this god did shake;
		His coward lips did from their color fly,
		And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world
		Did lose his luster. I did hear him groan.
		Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans
		Mark him and write his speeches in their books,
		Alas, it cried, "Give me some drink, Titinius,"
		As a sick girl. Ye gods! It doth amaze me
		A man of such a feeble temper should
		So get the start of the majestic world
		And bear the palm alone. Shout. Flourish.
		BRUTUS. Another general shout!
		I do believe that these applauses are
		For some new honors that are heap'd on Caesar.
		CASSIUS. 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 dishonorable graves.
		Men at some time are masters of their fates:
		The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
		But in ourselves that we are underlings.
		Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that "Caesar"?
		Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
		Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
		Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
		Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
		"Brutus" will start a spirit as soon as "Caesar."
		Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
		Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed
		That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
		Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
		When went there by an age since the great flood
		But it was famed with more than with one man?
		When could they say till now that talk'd of Rome
		That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
		Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough,
		When there is in it but one only man.
		O, you and I have heard our fathers say
		There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
		The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome
		As easily as a king.
		BRUTUS. 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 moved. What you have said
		I will consider; what you have to say
		I will with patience hear, and find a time
		Both meet to hear and answer such high things.
		Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this:
		Brutus had rather be a villager
		Than to repute himself a son of Rome
		Under these hard conditions as this time
		Is like to lay upon us.
		CASSIUS. I am glad that my weak words
		Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.

Re-enter Caesar and his Train.

		BRUTUS. The games are done, and Caesar is returning.
		CASSIUS. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve,
		And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
		What hath proceeded worthy note today.
		BRUTUS. I will do so. But, look you, Cassius,
		The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,
		And all the rest look like a chidden train:
		Calpurnia's cheek is pale, and Cicero
		Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes
		As we have seen him in the Capitol,
		Being cross'd in conference by some senators.
		CASSIUS. Casca will tell us what the matter is.
		CAESAR. Antonio!
		ANTONY. Caesar?
		CAESAR. 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.
		ANTONY. Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous;
		He is a noble Roman and well given.
		CAESAR. 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 moved to smile at anything.
		Such men as he be never at heart's ease
		Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,
		And therefore are they very dangerous.
		I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd
		Than what I fear, for always I am Caesar.
		Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
		And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.
		Sennet. Exeunt Caesar and all his Train but Casca.
		CASCA. You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
		BRUTUS. Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanced today
		That Caesar looks so sad.
		CASCA. Why, you were with him, were you not?
		BRUTUS. I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.
		CASCA. 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 ashouting.
		BRUTUS. What was the second noise for?
		CASCA. Why, for that too.
		CASSIUS. They shouted thrice. What was the last cry for?
		CASCA. Why, for that too.
		BRUTUS. Was the crown offered him thrice?
		CASCA. Ay, marry, wast, and he put it by thrice, every time
		gentler
		than other, and at every putting by mine honest neighbors
		shouted.
		CASSIUS. Who offered him the crown?
		CASCA. Why, Antony.
		BRUTUS. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
		CASCA. I can as well be hang'd 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 hooted and clapped their chopped
		hands
		and threw up their sweaty nightcaps and uttered such a deal
		of
		stinking breath because Caesar refused the crown that it had
		almost choked Caesar, for he swounded and fell down at it.
		And
		for mine own part, I durst not laugh for fear of opening my
		lips
		and receiving the bad air.
		CASSIUS. But, soft, I pray you, what, did Caesars wound?
		CASCA. He fell down in the marketplace and foamed at mouth and
		was
		speechless.
		BRUTUS. 'Tis very like. He hath the falling sickness.
		CASSIUS. No, Caesar hath it not, but you, and I,
		And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness.
		CASCA. I know not what you mean by that, but I am sure Caesar
		fell
		down. If the tagrag people did not clap him and hiss him
		according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to
		do
		the players in the theatre, I am no true man.
		BRUTUS. What said he when he came unto himself?
		CASCA. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common
		herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his
		doublet
		and offered them his throat to cut. An 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 anything
		amiss,
		he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity.
		Three or
		four wenches where I stood cried, "Alas, good soul!" and
		forgave
		him with all their hearts. But there's no heed to be taken of
		them; if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have
		done
		no less.
		BRUTUS. And after that he came, thus sad, away?
		CASCA. Ay.
		CASSIUS. Did Cicero say anything?
		CASCA. Ay, he spoke Greek.
		CASSIUS. To what effect?
		CASCA. 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 Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you
		well.
		There was more foolery yet, if could remember it.
		CASSIUS. Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?
		CASCA. No, I am promised forth.
		CASSIUS. Will you dine with me tomorrow?
		CASCA. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner
		worth
		the eating.
		CASSIUS. Good, I will expect you.
		CASCA. Do so, farewell, both. Exit.
		BRUTUS. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
		He was quick mettle when he went to school.
		CASSIUS. 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.
		BRUTUS. And so it is. For this time I will leave you.
		Tomorrow, 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.
		CASSIUS. I will do so. Till then, think of the world.


Exit Brutus

		Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see
		Thy honorable mettle may be wrought
		From that it is disposed; therefore it is meet
		That noble minds keep ever with their likes;
		For who so firm that cannot be seduced?
		Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus.
		If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,
		He should not humor me. I will this night,
		In several hands, in at his windows throw,
		As if they came from several citizens,
		Writings, all tending to the great opinion
		That Rome holds of his name, wherein obscurely
		Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at.
		And after this let Caesar seat him sure;
		For we will shake him, or worse days endure. Exit.




SCENE III. A street. Thunder and lightning


Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero.

		CICERO. Good even, Casca. Brought you Caesar home?
		Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?
		CASCA. Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth
		Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
		I have seen tempests when the scolding winds
		Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen
		The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam
		To be exalted with the threatening clouds,
		But never till tonight, 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.
		CICERO. Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
		CASCA. 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 ha' not since put up my sword-
		Against the Capitol I met a lion,
		Who glaz'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 noonday upon the marketplace,
		Howling 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.
		CICERO. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time.
		But men may construe things after their fashion,
		Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
		Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?
		CASCA. He doth, for he did bid Antonio
		Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.
		CICERO. Good then, Casca. This disturbed sky
		Is not to walk in.
		CASCA. Farewell, Cicero. Exit Cicero.

Enter Cassius.

		CASSIUS. Who's there?
		CASCA. A Roman.
		CASSIUS. Casca, by your voice.
		CASCA. Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
		CASSIUS. A very pleasing night to honest men.
		CASCA. Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
		CASSIUS. 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 bared my bosom to the thunderstone;
		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. 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.
		CASSIUS. 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 preformed faculties
		To monstrous quality, why, you shall find
		That heaven hath infused them with these spirits
		To make them instruments of fear and warning
		Unto some monstrous state.
		Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man
		Most like this dreadful night,
		That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
		As doth the lion in the Capitol,
		A man no mightier than thyself or me
		In personal action, yet prodigious grown
		And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
		CASCA. 'Tis Caesar that you mean, is it not, Cassius?
		CASSIUS. 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. Indeed they say the senators tomorrow
		Mean to establish Caesar as a king,
		And he shall wear his crown by sea and land
		In every place save here in Italy.
		CASSIUS. 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 these worldly bars,
		Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
		If I know this, know all the world besides,
		That part of tyranny that I do bear
		I can shake off at pleasure. Thunder still.
		CASCA. So can I.
		So every bondman in his own hand bears
		The power to cancel his captivity.
		CASSIUS. And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?
		Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf
		But that he sees the Romans are but sheep.
		He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
		Those that with haste will make a mighty fire
		Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome,
		What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves
		For the base matter to illuminate
		So vile a thing as Caesar? But, 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. 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 farthest.
		CASSIUS. There's a bargain made.
		Now know you, Casca, I have moved already
		Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
		To undergo with me an enterprise
		Of honorable-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 favor's like the work we have in hand,
		Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.

Enter Cinna.

		CASCA. Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
		CASSIUS. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait;
		He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?
		CINNA. To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber?
		CASSIUS. No, it is Casca, one incorporate
		To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?
		CINNA. I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this!
		There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.
		CASSIUS. Am I not stay'd for? Tell me.
		CINNA. Yes, you are.
		O Cassius, if you could
		But win the noble Brutus to our party-
		CASSIUS. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper,
		And look you lay it in the praetor's chair,
		Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
		In at his window; set this up with wax
		Upon old Brutus' statue. All this done,
		Repair to Pompey's Porch, where you shall find us.
		Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
		CINNA. All but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone
		To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie
		And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
		CASSIUS. That done, repair to Pompey's Theatre.


Exit Cinna

		Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day
		See Brutus at his house. Three parts of him
		Is ours already, and the man entire
		Upon the next encounter yields him ours.
		CASCA. O, he sits high in all the people's hearts,
		And that which would appear offense in us,
		His countenance, like richest alchemy,
		Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
		CASSIUS. Him and his worth and our great need of him
		You have right well conceited. Let us go,
		For it is after midnight, and ere day
		We will awake him and be sure of him. Exeunt.




ACT II. SCENE I



Enter Brutus in his orchard.

		BRUTUS. What, Lucius, ho!
		I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
		Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say!
		I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.
		When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say! What, Lucius!

Enter Lucius.

		LUCIUS. Call'd you, my lord?
		BRUTUS. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius.
		When it is lighted, come and call me here.
		LUCIUS. I will, my lord. Exit.
		BRUTUS. 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 Caesar,
		I have not known when his affections sway'd
		More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof
		That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
		Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;
		But when he once attains the upmost round,
		He then unto the ladder turns his back,
		Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
		By which he did ascend. So Caesar may;
		Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
		Will bear no color for the thing he is,
		Fashion it thus, that what he is, augmented,
		Would run to these and these extremities;
		And therefore think him as a serpent's egg
		Which hatch'd would as his kind grow mischievous,
		And kill him in the shell.

Re-enter Lucius.

		LUCIUS. 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.
		Gives him the letter.
		BRUTUS. Get you to bed again, it is not day.
		Is not tomorrow, boy, the ides of March?
		LUCIUS. I know not, sir.
		BRUTUS. Look in the calendar and bring me word.
		LUCIUS. I will, sir. Exit.
		BRUTUS. The exhalations whizzing in the air
		Give so much light that I may read by them.
		Opens the letter and reads.
		"Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake and see thyself!
		Shall Rome, etc. Speak, strike, redress!"

		"Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!"
		Such instigations have been often dropp'd
		Where I have took them up.
		"Shall Rome, etc." Thus must I piece it out.
		Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome?
		My ancestors did from the streets of Rome
		The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king.
		"Speak, strike, redress!" Am I entreated
		To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
		If the redress will follow, thou receivest
		Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/uilyam-shekspir/the-tragedy-of-julius-caesar/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.


