# Tragedies. King Lear. Othello. Julius Ceasar / Трагедии. Король Лир. Отелло. Юлий Цезарь

Уильям Шекспир

Бывают ли люди честными и добродетельными? Трагедии Уильяма Шекспира «Король Лир», «Отелло» и «Юлий Цезарь» показывают, как легко под весом судьбоносных решений и человеческого несовершенства в ничто обращаются и добродетель, и честь.
«Король Лир» – пьеса о преданном дочерьми монархе, чьи владения рассыпаются подобно его разуму, уступающему место хаосу безумия. «Отелло» – трагедия об уважаемом генерале, который попал в искусно сплетенные сети обмана и позволил яростной ревности заглушить доводы сердца и рассудка. «Юлий Цезарь» – история о честолюбии и политических интригах, о том, что люди ошибаются, а власть влечет слишком многих.
Насладитесь изящным слогом Шекспира на языке оригинала за чтением величайших трагедий в истории английской литературы.

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## The Tragedy of Julius Caesar

### Dramatis Personæ

Triumvirs after the death of Julius Cæsar

JULIUS CÆSAR.

OCTAVIUS CÆSAR,

MARCUS ANTONIUS,

M. ÆMILIUS LEPIDUS


Senators

CICERO,

PUBLIUS,

POPILIUS LENA


Conspirators agains Julius Cæsar

MARCUS BRUTUS,

CASSIUS,

CASCA,

TREBONIUS,

LIGARIUS,

DECIUS BRUTUS,

METELLUS CIMBER,

CINNA


FLAVIUS and MARULLUS, tribunes.

ARTEMIDORUS of Cnidos, a teacher of Rhetoric.

A Soothsayer

CINNA, a poet.

Another Poet.


Friends to Brutus and Cassius

LUCILIUS,

TITINIUS,

MESSALA,

Young CATO,

VOLUMINIUS,


Servants to Brutus.

VARRO,

CLITUS,

CLAUDIUS,

STRATO,

LUCIUS,

DARDANIUS


PINDARUS, servant to Cassius.

CALPURNIA, wife to Cæsar.

PORTIA, wife to Brutus.

### 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 labouring 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 meanest 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 the Commoners

See whether their basest metal be not moved;

They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.

Go you down that way towards the Capitol;

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 BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer

CAESAR

Calpurnia!

CASCA

Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.

CAESAR

Calpurnia!

CALPURNIA

Here, my lord.

CAESAR

Stand you directly in Antonius’ way,

When he doth run his course. Antonius!

ANTONY

Caesar, my lord?

CAESAR

Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,

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 bids 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 except 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 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.

CASSIUS

I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,

As well as I do know your outward favour.

Well, honour is the subject of my story.

I cannot tell what you and other men

Think of this life; but, for my single self,

I had as lief not be as live to be

In awe of such a thing as I myself.

I was born free as Caesar; so were you:

We both have fed as well, and we can both

Endure the winter’s cold as well as he:

For once, upon a raw and gusty day,

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,

Caesar said to me ’Darest thou, Cassius, now

Leap in with me into this angry flood,

And swim to yonder point?’ Upon the word,

Accoutred as I was, I plunged in

And bade him follow; so indeed he did.

The torrent roar’d, and we did buffet it

With lusty sinews, throwing it aside

And stemming it with hearts of controversy;

But ere we could arrive the point proposed,

Caesar cried ’Help me, Cassius, or I sink!’

I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor,

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder

The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber

Did I the tired Caesar. And this man

Is now become a god, and Cassius is

A wretched creature and must bend his body,

If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.

He had a fever when he was in Spain,

And when the fit was on him, I did mark

How he did shake: ’tis true, this god did shake;

His coward lips did from their colour fly,

And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world

Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan:

Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans

Mark him and write his speeches in their books,

Alas, it cried ’Give me some drink, Titinius,’

As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me

A man of such a feeble temper should

So get the start of the majestic world

And bear the palm alone.

Shout. Flourish

BRUTUS

Another general shout!

I do believe that these applauses are

For some new honours 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 dishonourable graves.

Men at some time are masters of their fates:

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that ’Caesar’?

Why should that name be sounded more than yours?

Write them together, yours is as fair a name;

Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;

Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with ’em,

Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.

Now, in the names of all the gods at once,

Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,

That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!

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

But it was famed with more than with one man?

When could they say till now, that talk’d of Rome,

That her wide walls encompass’d but one man?

Now is it Rome indeed and room enough,

When there is in it but one only man.

O, you and I have heard our fathers say,

There was a Brutus once that would have brook’d

The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome

As easily as a king.

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.

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 to-day.

Re-enter CAESAR and his Train

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

Antonius!

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 any thing.

Such men as he be never at heart’s ease

Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,

And therefore are they very dangerous.

I rather tell thee what is to be fear’d

Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar.

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

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

Sennet. Exeunt CAESAR and all his Train, but CASCA

CASCA

You pull’d me by the cloak; would you speak with me?

BRUTUS

Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day,

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 a-shouting.

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, was’t, and he put it by thrice, every

time gentler than other, and at every putting-by

mine honest neighbours 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 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 hooted and clapped their

chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps

and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because

Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked

Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and

for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of

opening my lips and receiving the bad air.

CASSIUS

But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound?

CASCA

He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at

mouth, and was speechless.

BRUTUS

’Tis very like: he hath the failing 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 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.

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 I had been a man of any

occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word,

I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so

he fell. When he came to himself again, he said,

If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired

their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three

or four wenches, where I stood, cried ’Alas, good

soul!’ and forgave him with all their hearts: but

there’s no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had

stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.

BRUTUS

And after that, he came, thus sad, away?

CASCA

Ay.

CASSIUS

Did Cicero say any thing?

CASCA

Ay, he spoke Greek.

CASSIUS

To what effect?

CASCA

Nay, an I tell you that, Ill 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 I could

remember it.

CASSIUS

Will you sup with me to-night, Casca?

CASCA

No, I am promised forth.

CASSIUS

Will you dine with me to-morrow?

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:

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.

CASSIUS

I will do so: till then, think of the world.

Exit BRUTUS

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

Thy honourable metal may be wrought

From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet

That noble minds keep ever with their likes;

For who so firm that cannot be seduced?

Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus:

If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,

He should not humour me. I will this night,

In several hands, in at his windows throw,

As if they came from several citizens,

Writings all tending to the great opinion

That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely

Caesar’s ambition shall be glanced at:

And after this let Caesar seat him sure;

For we will shake him, or worse days endure.

Exit

#### Scene III

The same. A street.

Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides, CASCA, with his sword drawn, and CICERO

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 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.

CICERO

Why, saw you any thing 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 glared upon me, and went surly by,

Without annoying me: and there were drawn

Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,

Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw

Men all in fire walk up and down the streets.

And yesterday the bird of night did sit

Even at noon-day upon the market-place,

Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies

Do so conjointly meet, let not men say

’These are their reasons; they are natural;’

For, I believe, they are portentous things

Unto the climate that they point upon.

CICERO

Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time:

But men may construe things after their fashion,

Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.

Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow?

CASCA

He doth; for he did bid Antonius

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

CICERO

Good night 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 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

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 fool and children calculate,

Why all these things change from their ordinance

Their natures and preformed faculties

To monstrous quality, – why, you shall find

That heaven hath infused them with these spirits,

To make them instruments of fear and warning

Unto some monstrous state.

Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man

Most like this dreadful night,

That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars

As doth the lion in the Capitol,

A man no mightier than thyself or me

In personal action, yet prodigious grown

And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.

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 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

Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.

CASSIUS

’Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait;

He is a friend.

Enter CINNA

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 offence 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

Rome. BRUTUS’s orchard.

Enter BRUTUS

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 colour for the thing he is,

Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,

Would run to these and these extremities:

And therefore think him as a serpent’s egg

Which, hatch’d, would, as his kind, grow mischievous,

And kill him in the shell.

Re-enter LUCIUS

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 to-morrow, 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, & c. Speak, strike, redress!

Brutus, thou sleep’st: awake!’

Such instigations have been often dropp’d

Where I have took them up.

’shall Rome, & c.’ Thus must I piece it out:

Shall Rome stand under one man’s awe? What, Rome?

My ancestors did from the streets of Rome

The Tarquin drive, when he was call’d a king.

’speak, strike, redress!’ Am I entreated

To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise:

If the redress will follow, thou receivest

Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!

Re-enter LUCIUS

LUCIUS

Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.

Knocking within

BRUTUS

’Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks.

Exit LUCIUS

Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,

I have not slept.

Between the acting of a dreadful thing

And the first motion, all the interim is

Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:

The Genius and the mortal instruments

Are then in council; and the state of man,

Like to a little kingdom, suffers then

The nature of an insurrection.

Re-enter LUCIUS

LUCIUS

Sir, ’tis your brother Cassius at the door,

Who doth desire to see you.

BRUTUS

Is he alone?

LUCIUS

No, sir, there are moe with him.

BRUTUS

Do you know them?

LUCIUS

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.

BRUTUS

Let ’em enter.

Exit LUCIUS

They are the faction. O conspiracy,

Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,

When evils are most free? O, then by day

Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough

To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy;

Hide it in smiles and affability:

For if thou path, thy native semblance on,

Not Erebus itself were dim enough

To hide thee from prevention.

Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS

CASSIUS

I think we are too bold upon your rest:

Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?

BRUTUS

I have been up this hour, awake all night.

Know I these men that come along with you?

CASSIUS

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.

BRUTUS

He is welcome hither.

CASSIUS

This, Decius Brutus.

BRUTUS

He is welcome too.

CASSIUS

This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.

BRUTUS

They are all welcome.

What watchful cares do interpose themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

CASSIUS

Shall I entreat a word?

BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper

DECIUS BRUTUS

Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?

CASCA

No.

CINNA

O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines

That fret the clouds are messengers of day.

CASCA

You shall confess that you are both deceived.

Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises,

Which is a great way growing on the south,

Weighing the youthful season of the year.

Some two months hence up higher toward the north

He first presents his fire; and the high east

Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.

BRUTUS

Give me your hands all over, one by one.

CASSIUS

And let us swear our resolution.

BRUTUS

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 engaged,

That this shall be, or we will fall for it?

Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous,

Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls

That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear

Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain

The even virtue of our enterprise,

Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits,

To think that or our cause or our performance

Did need an oath; when every drop of blood

That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,

Is guilty of a several bastardy,

If he do break the smallest particle

Of any promise that hath pass’d from him.

CASSIUS

But what of Cicero? shall we sound him?

I think he will stand very strong with us.

CASCA

Let us not leave him out.

CINNA

No, by no means.

METELLUS CIMBER

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 ruled our hands;

Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,

But all be buried in his gravity.

BRUTUS

O, name him not: let us not break with him;

For he will never follow any thing

That other men begin.

CASSIUS

Then leave him out.

CASCA

Indeed he is not fit.

DECIUS BRUTUS

Shall no man else be touch’d but only Caesar?

CASSIUS

Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet,

Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar,

Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him

A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means,

If he improve them, may well stretch so far

As to annoy us all: which to prevent,

Let Antony and Caesar fall together.

BRUTUS

Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,

To cut the head off and then hack the limbs,

Like wrath in death and envy afterwards;

For Antony is but a limb of Caesar:

Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.

We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar;

And in the spirit of men there is no blood:

O, that we then could come by Caesar’s spirit,

And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,

Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,

Let’s kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;

Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods,

Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds:

And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,

Stir up their servants to an act of rage,

And after seem to chide ’em. This shall make

Our purpose necessary and not envious:

Which so appearing to the common eyes,

We shall be call’d purgers, not murderers.

And for Mark Antony, think not of him;

For he can do no more than Caesar’s arm

When Caesar’s head is off.

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

Exeunt all but BRUTUS

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. 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 stared upon me with ungentle looks;

I urged you further; then you scratch’d your head,

And too impatiently stamp’d with your foot;

Yet I insisted, yet you answer’d not,

But, with an angry wafture of your hand,

Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did;

Fearing to strengthen that impatience

Which seem’d too much enkindled, and withal

Hoping it was but an effect of humour,

Which sometime hath his hour with every man.

It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,

And could it work so much upon your shape

As it hath much prevail’d on your condition,

I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,

Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.

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, yourself, your half,

Why you are heavy, and what men to-night

Have had to resort to you: for here have been

Some six or seven, who did hide their faces

Even from darkness.

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 yourself

But, as it were, in sort or limitation,

To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,

And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs

Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,

Portia is Brutus’ harlot, not his wife.

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!

Knocking within

Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile;

And by and by thy bosom shall partake

The secrets of my heart.

All my engagements I will construe to thee,

All the charactery of my sad brows:

Leave me with haste.

Exit PORTIA

Lucius, who’s that knocks?

Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS

LUCIUS

He 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 conjured up

My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,

And I will strive with things impossible;

Yea, get the better of them. What’s to do?

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-fired I follow you,

To do I know not what: but it sufficeth

That Brutus leads me on.

BRUTUS

Follow me, then.

Exeunt

#### Scene II

CAESAR’s house.

Thunder and lightning.

Enter CAESAR, in his night-gown

CAESAR

Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night:

Thrice hath Calpurnia 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 CALPURNIA

CALPURNIA

What mean you, Caesar? think you to walk forth?

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

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.

CALPURNIA

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.