Cassi. You are dull, Caska:

Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all

the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have

been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they

are presented herein:

Barnardo. Who's there?

Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold

your selfe

Bar. Long liue the King

* * * * *

As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words

or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the

original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling

to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions

that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u,

above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming

Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .

The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a

time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in

place of some "w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day,

as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend

more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I

have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an

extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a

very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare. My father read an

assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University

in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the

purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available

. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes,

that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a

variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous

for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below

made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors

that are "not" errors. . . .

So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,

here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's play.

Michael S. Hart

Project Gutenberg

Executive Director

* * * * *

Scanner's Notes:

What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of

Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in

ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the

conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling,

punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed

text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put

together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of

the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified

spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded

abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within

brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you

can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer

Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are

textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So

there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above)

between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the

printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of

copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type

and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown

away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the

way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30

different First Folio editions' best pages.

David Reed

=====================================================================

The Tragedie of Julius Caesar

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Flauius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners ouer the Stage.

Flauius. Hence: home you idle Creatures, get you home:

Is this a Holiday? What, know you not

(Being Mechanicall) you ought not walke

Vpon a labouring day, without the signe

Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou?

Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter

Mur. Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?

What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on?

You sir, what Trade are you?

Cobl. Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am

but as you would say, a Cobler

Mur. But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly

Cob. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe

Conscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules

Fla. What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue,

what Trade?

Cobl. Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet

if you be out Sir, I can mend you

Mur. What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou

sawcy Fellow?

Cob. Why sir, Cobble you

Fla. Thou art a Cobler, art thou?

Cob. Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I

meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens matters;

but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes:

when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As proper

men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vpon

my handy-worke

Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?

Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets?

Cob. Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my

selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holyday

to see Caesar, and to reioyce in his Triumph

Mur. Wherefore reioyce?

What Conquest brings he home?

What Tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles?

You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things:

O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome,

Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft?

Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements,

To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops,

Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sate

The liue-long day, with patient expectation,

To see great Pompey passe the streets of Rome:

And when you saw his Chariot but appeare,

Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout,

That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankes

To heare the replication of your sounds,

Made in her Concaue Shores?

And do you now put on your best attyre?

And do you now cull out a Holyday?

And do you now strew Flowers in his way,

That comes in Triumph ouer Pompeyes blood?

Be gone,

Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees,

Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague

That needs must light on this Ingratitude

Fla. Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault

Assemble all the poore men of your sort;

Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your teares

Into the Channell, till the lowest streame

Do kisse the most exalted Shores of all.

Exeunt. all the Commoners.

See where their basest mettle be not mou'd,

They vanish tongue-tyed in their guiltinesse:

Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll,

This way will I: Disrobe the Images,

If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies

Mur. May we do so?

You know it is the Feast of Lupercall

Fla. It is no matter, let no Images

Be hung with Caesars Trophees: Ile about,

And driue away the Vulgar from the streets;

So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke.

These growing Feathers, pluckt from Caesars wing,

Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,

Who else would soare aboue the view of men,

And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius,

Cicero,

Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer: after them Murellus and

Flauius.

Caes. Calphurnia

Cask. Peace ho, Caesar speakes

Caes. Calphurnia

Calp. Heere my Lord

Caes. Stand you directly in Antonio's way,

When he doth run his course. Antonio

Ant. Cæsar, my Lord

Caes. Forget not in your speed Antonio,

To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders say,

The Barren touched in this holy chace,

Shake off their sterrile curse

Ant. I shall remember,

When Caesar sayes, Do this; it is perform'd

Caes. Set on, and leaue no Ceremony out

Sooth. Caesar

Caes. Ha? Who calles?

Cask. Bid euery noyse be still: peace yet againe

Caes. Who is it in the presse, that calles on me?

I heare a Tongue shriller then all the Musicke

Cry, Caesar: Speake, Caesar is turn'd to heare

Sooth. Beware the Ides of March

Caes. What man is that?

Br. A Sooth-sayer bids you beware the Ides of March

Caes. Set him before me, let me see his face

Cassi. Fellow, come from the throng, look vpon Caesar

Caes. What sayst thou to me now? Speak once againe,

Sooth. Beware the Ides of March

Caes. He is a Dreamer, let vs leaue him: Passe.

Sennet

Exeunt. Manet Brut. & Cass.

Cassi. Will you go see the order of the course?

Brut. Not I

Cassi. I pray you do

Brut. I am not Gamesom: I do lacke some part

Of that quicke Spirit that is in Antony:

Let me not hinder Cassius your desires;

Ile leaue you

Cassi. Brutus, I do obserue you now of late:

I haue not from your eyes, that gentlenesse

And shew of Loue, as I was wont to haue:

You beare too stubborne, and too strange a hand

Ouer your Friend, that loues you

Bru. Cassius,

Be not deceiu'd: If I haue veyl'd my looke,

I turne the trouble of my Countenance

Meerely vpon my selfe. Vexed I am

Of late, with passions of some difference,

Conceptions onely proper to my selfe,

Which giue some soyle (perhaps) to my Behauiours:

But let not therefore my good Friends be greeu'd

(Among which number Cassius be you one)

Nor construe any further my neglect,

Then that poore Brutus with himselfe at warre,

Forgets the shewes of Loue to other men

Cassi. Then Brutus, I haue much mistook your passion,

By meanes whereof, this Brest 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 it selfe but by reflection,

By some other things

Cassius. 'Tis iust,

And it is very much lamented Brutus,

That you haue no such Mirrors, as will turne

Your hidden worthinesse into your eye,

That you might see your shadow:

I haue heard,

Where many of the best respect in Rome,

(Except immortall Caesar) speaking of Brutus,

And groaning vnderneath this Ages yoake,

Haue wish'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes

Bru. Into what dangers, would you

Leade me Cassius?

That you would haue me seeke into my selfe,

For that which is not in me?

Cas. Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to heare:

And since you know, you cannot see your selfe

So well as by Reflection; I your Glasse,

Will modestly discouer to your selfe

That of your selfe, which you yet know not of.

And be not iealous on me, gentle Brutus:

Were I a common Laughter, or did vse

To stale with ordinary Oathes my loue

To euery new Protester: if you know,

That I do fawne on men, and hugge them hard,

And after scandall them: Or if you know,

That I professe my selfe in Banquetting

To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.

Flourish, and Shout.

Bru. What meanes this Showting?

I do feare, the People choose Caesar

For their King

Cassi. I, do you feare it?

Then must I thinke you would not haue it so

Bru. I would not Cassius, yet I loue him well:

But wherefore do you hold me heere so long?

What is it, that you would impart to me?

If it be ought toward the generall good,

Set Honor in one eye, and Death i'th other,

And I will looke on both indifferently:

For let the Gods so speed mee, as I loue

The name of Honor, more then I feare death

Cassi. I know that vertue to be in you Brutus,

As well as I do know your outward fauour.

Well, Honor is the subiect of my Story:

I cannot tell, what you and other men

Thinke of this life: But for my single selfe,

I had as liefe not be, as liue to be

In awe of such a Thing, as I my selfe.

I was borne free as Caesar, so were you,

We both haue fed as well, and we can both

Endure the Winters cold, as well as hee.

For once, vpon a Rawe and Gustie day,

The troubled Tyber, chafing with her Shores,

Caesar saide to me, Dar'st thou Cassius now

Leape in with me into this angry Flood,

And swim to yonder Point? Vpon the word,

Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,

And bad him follow: so indeed he did.

The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it

With lusty Sinewes, throwing it aside,

And stemming it with hearts of Controuersie.

But ere we could arriue the Point propos'd,

Caesar cride, Helpe me Cassius, or I sinke.

I (as Aeneas, our great Ancestor,

Did from the Flames of Troy, vpon his shoulder

The old Anchyses beare) so, from the waues of Tyber

Did I the tyred Caesar: And this Man,

Is now become a God, and Cassius is

A wretched Creature, and must bend his body,

If Caesar carelesly but nod on him.

He had a Feauer when he was in Spaine,

And when the Fit was on him, I did marke

How he did shake: Tis true, this God did shake,

His Coward lippes did from their colour flye,

And that same Eye, whose bend doth awe the World,

Did loose his Lustre: I did heare him grone:

I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans

Marke him, and write his Speeches in their Bookes,

Alas, it cried, Giue me some drinke Titinius,

As a sicke Girle: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,

A man of such a feeble temper should

So get the start of the Maiesticke world,

And beare the Palme alone.

Shout. Flourish.

Bru. Another generall shout?

I do beleeue, that these applauses are

For some new Honors, that are heap'd on Caesar

Cassi. Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world

Like a Colossus, and we petty men

Walke vnder his huge legges, and peepe about

To finde our selues dishonourable Graues.

Men at sometime, are Masters of their Fates.

The fault (deere Brutus) is not in our Starres,

But in our Selues, that we are vnderlings.

Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Caesar?

Why should that name be sounded more then yours

Write them together: Yours, is as faire a Name:

Sound them, it doth become the mouth aswell:

Weigh them, it is as heauy: Coniure with 'em,

Brutus will start a Spirit as soone as Caesar.

Now in the names of all the Gods at once,

Vpon what meate doth this our Caesar feede,

That he is growne 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 then with one man?

When could they say (till now) that talk'd of Rome,

That her wide Walkes incompast but one man?

Now is it Rome indeed, and Roome enough

When there is in it but one onely man.

O! you and I, haue heard our Fathers say,

There was a Brutus once, that would haue brook'd

Th' eternall Diuell to keepe his State in Rome,

As easily as a King

Bru. That you do loue me, I am nothing iealous:

What you would worke me too, I haue some ayme:

How I haue thought of this, and of these times

I shall recount heereafter. For this present,

I would not so (with loue I might intreat you)

Be any further moou'd: What you haue said,

I will consider: what you haue to say

I will with patience heare, and finde a time

Both meete to heare, and answer such high things.

Till then, my Noble Friend, chew vpon this:

Brutus had rather be a Villager,

Then to repute himselfe a Sonne of Rome

Vnder these hard Conditions, as this time

Is like to lay vpon vs

Cassi. I am glad that my weake words

Haue strucke but thus much shew of fire from Brutus,

Enter Caesar and his Traine.

Bru. The Games are done,

And Caesar is returning

Cassi. As they passe by,

Plucke Caska by the Sleeue,

And he will (after his sowre fashion) tell you

What hath proceeded worthy note to day

Bru. I will do so: but looke you Cassius,

The angry spot doth glow on Caesars brow,

And all the rest, looke like a chidden Traine;

Calphurnia's Cheeke is pale, and Cicero

Lookes with such Ferret, and such fiery eyes

As we haue seene him in the Capitoll

Being crost in Conference, by some Senators

Cassi. Caska will tell vs what the matter is

Caes Antonio

Ant. Caesar

Caes Let me haue men about me, that are fat,

Sleeke-headed men, and such as sleepe a-nights:

Yond Cassius has a leane and hungry looke,

He thinkes too much: such men are dangerous

Ant. Feare him not Caesar, he's not dangerous,

He is a Noble Roman, and well giuen

Caes Would he were fatter; But I feare him not:

Yet if my name were lyable to feare,

I do not know the man I should auoyd

So soone as that spare Cassius. He reades much,

He is a great Obseruer, and he lookes

Quite through the Deeds of men. He loues no Playes,

As thou dost Antony: he heares no Musicke;

Seldome he smiles, and smiles in such a sort

As if he mock'd himselfe, and scorn'd his spirit

That could be mou'd to smile at any thing.

Such men as he, be neuer at hearts ease,

Whiles they behold a greater then themselues,

And therefore are they very dangerous.

I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,

Then what I feare: for alwayes I am Caesar.

Come on my right hand, for this eare is deafe,

And tell me truely, what thou think'st of him.

Sennit.

Exeunt. Caesar and his Traine.

Cask. You pul'd me by the cloake, would you speake

with me?

Bru. I Caska, tell vs what hath chanc'd to day

That Caesar lookes so sad

Cask. Why you were with him, were you not?

Bru. I should not then aske Caska what had chanc'd

Cask. Why there was a Crowne offer'd him; & being

offer'd him, he put it by with the backe of his hand thus,

and then the people fell a shouting

Bru. What was the second noyse for?

Cask. Why for that too

Cassi. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?

Cask. Why for that too

Bru. Was the Crowne offer'd him thrice?

Cask. I marry was't, and hee put it by thrice, euerie

time gentler then other; and at euery putting by, mine

honest Neighbors showted

Cassi. Who offer'd him the Crowne?

Cask. Why Antony

Bru. Tell vs the manner of it, gentle Caska

Caska. I can as well bee hang'd as tell the manner of

it: It was meere Foolerie, I did not marke it. I sawe

Marke Antony offer him a Crowne, yet 'twas not a

Crowne neyther, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I

told you, hee put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking,

he would faine haue had it. Then hee offered it to

him againe: then hee put it by againe: but to my thinking,

he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then

he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by,

and still as hee refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and

clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw vppe their sweatie

Night-cappes, and vttered such a deale of stinking

breath, because Caesar refus'd the Crowne, that it had

(almost) choaked Caesar: for hee swoonded, and fell

downe at it: And for mine owne part, I durst not laugh,

for feare of opening my Lippes, and receyuing the bad

Ayre

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

Cask. He fell downe in the Market-place, and foam'd

at mouth, and was speechlesse

Brut. 'Tis very like he hath the Falling sicknesse

Cassi. No, Caesar hath it not: but you, and I,

And honest Caska, we haue the Falling sicknesse

Cask. I know not what you meane by that, but I am

sure Caesar fell downe. If the tag-ragge people did not

clap him, and hisse him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd

them, as they vse to doe the Players in the Theatre,

I am no true man

Brut. What said he, when he came vnto himselfe?

Cask. Marry, before he fell downe, when he perceiu'd

the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crowne, he

pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat

to cut: and I had beene a man of any Occupation, if I

would not haue taken him at a word, I would I might

goe to Hell among the Rogues, and so hee fell. When

he came to himselfe againe, hee said, If hee had done, or

said any thing amisse, he desir'd their Worships to thinke

it was his infirmitie. Three or foure Wenches where I

stood, cryed, Alasse good Soule, and forgaue him with

all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them;

if Caesar had stab'd their Mothers, they would haue done

no lesse

Brut. And after that, he came thus sad away

Cask. I

Cassi. Did Cicero say any thing?

Cask. I, he spoke Greeke

Cassi. To what effect?

Cask. Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're looke you

i'th' face againe. But those that vnderstood him, smil'd

at one another, and shooke their heads: but for mine

owne part, it was Greeke to me. I could tell you more

newes too: Murrellus and Flauius, for pulling Scarffes

off Caesars Images, are put to silence. Fare you well.

There was more Foolerie yet, if I could remember

it

Cassi. Will you suppe with me to Night, Caska?

Cask. No, I am promis'd forth

Cassi. Will you Dine with me to morrow?

Cask. I, if I be aliue, and your minde hold, and your

Dinner worth the eating

Cassi. Good, I will expect you

Cask. Doe so: farewell both.

Enter.

Brut. What a blunt fellow is this growne to be?

He was quick Mettle, when he went to Schoole

Cassi. So is he now, in execution

Of any bold, or Noble Enterprize,

How-euer he puts on this tardie forme:

This Rudenesse is a Sawce to his good Wit,

Which giues men stomacke to disgest his words

With better Appetite

Brut. And so it is:

For this time I will leaue you:

To morrow, if you please to speake with me,

I will come home to you: or if you will,

Come home to me, and I will wait for you

Cassi. I will doe so: till then, thinke of the World.

Exit Brutus.

Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I see,

Thy Honorable Mettle may be wrought

From that it is dispos'd: therefore it is meet,

That Noble mindes keepe euer with their likes:

For who so firme, that cannot be seduc'd?

Caesar doth beare me hard, but he loues Brutus.

If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius,

He should not humor me. I will this Night,

In seuerall Hands, in at his Windowes throw,

As if they came from seuerall Citizens,

Writings, all tending to the great opinion

That Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurely

Caesars Ambition shall be glanced at.

And after this, let Caesar seat him sure,

For wee will shake him, or worse dayes endure.

Enter.

Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Cicero.

Cic. Good euen, Caska: brought you Caesar home?

Why are you breathlesse, and why stare you so?

Cask. Are not you mou'd, when all the sway of Earth

Shakes, like a thing vnfirme? O Cicero,

I haue seene Tempests, when the scolding Winds

Haue riu'd the knottie Oakes, and I haue seene

Th' ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foame,

To be exalted with the threatning Clouds:

But neuer till to Night, neuer till now,

Did I goe through a Tempest-dropping-fire.

Eyther there is a Ciuill strife in Heauen,

Or else the World, too sawcie with the Gods,

Incenses them to send destruction

Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderfull?

Cask. A common slaue, you know him well by sight,

Held vp his left Hand, which did flame and burne

Like twentie Torches ioyn'd; and yet his Hand,

Not sensible of fire, remain'd vnscorch'd.

Besides, I ha' not since put vp my Sword,

Against the Capitoll I met a Lyon,

Who glaz'd vpon me, and went surly by,

Without annoying me. And there were drawne

Vpon a heape, a hundred gastly Women,

Transformed with their feare, who swore, they saw

Men, all in fire, walke vp and downe the streetes.

And yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit,

Euen at Noone-day, vpon the Market place,

Howting, and shreeking. When these Prodigies

Doe so conioyntly meet, let not men say,

These are their Reasons, they are Naturall:

For I beleeue, they are portentous things

Vnto the Clymate, that they point vpon

Cic. Indeed, it is a strange disposed time:

But men may construe things after their fashion,

Cleane from the purpose of the things themselues.

Comes Caesar to the Capitoll to morrow?

Cask. He doth: for he did bid Antonio

Send word to you, he would be there to morrow

Cic. Good-night then, Caska:

This disturbed Skie is not to walke in

Cask. Farewell Cicero.

Exit Cicero.

Enter Cassius.

Cassi. Who's there?

Cask. A Romane

Cassi. Caska, by your Voyce

Cask. Your Eare is good.

Cassius, what Night is this?

Cassi. A very pleasing Night to honest men

Cask. Who euer knew the Heauens menace so?

Cassi. Those that haue knowne the Earth so full of

faults.

For my part, I haue walk'd about the streets,

Submitting me vnto the perillous Night;

And thus vnbraced, Caska, as you see,

Haue bar'd my Bosome to the Thunder-stone:

And when the crosse blew Lightning seem'd to open

The Brest of Heauen, I did present my selfe

Euen in the ayme, and very flash of it

Cask. But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heauens?

It is the part of men, to feare and tremble,

When the most mightie Gods, by tokens send

Such dreadfull Heraulds, to astonish vs

Cassi. You are dull, Caska:

And those sparkes of Life, that should be in a Roman,

You doe want, or else you vse not.

You looke pale, and gaze, and put on feare,

And cast your selfe in wonder,

To see the strange impatience of the Heauens:

But if you would consider the true cause,

Why all these Fires, why all these gliding Ghosts,

Why Birds and Beasts, from qualitie and kinde,

Why Old men, Fooles, and Children calculate,

Why all these things change from their Ordinance,

Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties,

To monstrous qualitie; why you shall finde,

That Heauen hath infus'd them with these Spirits,

To make them Instruments of feare, and warning,

Vnto some monstrous State.

Now could I (Caska) name to thee a man,

Most like this dreadfull Night,

That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graues, and roares,

As doth the Lyon in the Capitoll:

A man no mightier then thy selfe, or me,

In personall action; yet prodigious growne,

And fearefull, as these strange eruptions are

Cask. 'Tis Caesar that you meane:

Is it not, Cassius?

Cassi. Let it be who it is: for Romans now

Haue Thewes, and Limbes, like to their Ancestors;

But woe the while, our Fathers mindes are dead,

And we are gouern'd with our Mothers spirits,

Our yoake, and sufferance, shew vs Womanish

Cask. Indeed, they say, the Senators to morrow

Meane to establish Caesar as a King:

And he shall weare his Crowne by Sea, and Land,

In euery place, saue here in Italy

Cassi. I know where I will weare this Dagger then;

Cassius from Bondage will deliuer Cassius:

Therein, yee Gods, you make the weake most strong;

Therein, yee Gods, you Tyrants doe defeat.

Nor Stonie Tower, nor Walls of beaten Brasse,

Nor ayre-lesse Dungeon, nor strong Linkes of Iron,

Can be retentiue to the strength of spirit:

But Life being wearie of these worldly Barres,

Neuer lacks power to dismisse it selfe.

If I know this, know all the World besides,

That part of Tyrannie that I doe beare,

I can shake off at pleasure.

Thunder still.

Cask. So can I:

So euery Bond-man in his owne hand beares

The power to cancell his Captiuitie

Cassi. And why should Cæsar be a Tyrant then?

Poore man, I know he would not be a Wolfe,

But that he sees the Romans are but Sheepe:

He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hindes.

Those that with haste will make a mightie fire,

Begin it with weake Strawes. What trash is Rome?

What Rubbish, and what Offall? when it serues

For the base matter, to illuminate

So vile a thing as Caesar. But oh Griefe,

Where hast thou led me? I (perhaps) speake this

Before a willing Bond-man: then I know

My answere must be made. But I am arm'd,

And dangers are to me indifferent

Cask. You speake to Caska, and to such a man,

That is no flearing Tell-tale. Hold, my Hand:

Be factious for redresse of all these Griefes,

And I will set this foot of mine as farre,

As who goes farthest

Cassi. There's a Bargaine made.

Now know you, Caska, I haue mou'd already

Some certaine of the Noblest minded Romans

To vnder-goe, with me, an Enterprize,

Of Honorable dangerous consequence;

And I doe know by this, they stay for me

In Pompeyes Porch: for now this fearefull Night,

There is no stirre, or walking in the streetes;

And the Complexion of the Element

Is Fauors, like the Worke we haue in hand,

Most bloodie, fierie, and most terrible.

Enter Cinna.

Caska. Stand close a while, for heere comes one in

haste

Cassi. 'Tis Cinna, I doe know him by his Gate,

He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?

Cinna. To finde out you: Who's that, Metellus

Cymber?

Cassi. No, it is Caska, one incorporate

To our Attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?

Cinna. I am glad on't.

What a fearefull Night is this?

There's two or three of vs haue seene strange sights

Cassi. Am I not stay'd for? tell me

Cinna. Yes, you are. O Cassius,

If you could but winne the Noble Brutus

To our party-

Cassi. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this Paper,

And looke you lay it in the Pretors Chayre,

Where Brutus may but finde it: and throw this

In at his Window; set this vp with Waxe

Vpon old Brutus Statue: all this done,

Repaire to Pompeyes Porch, where you shall finde vs.

Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?

Cinna. All, but Metellus Cymber, and hee's gone

To seeke you at your house. Well, I will hie,

And so bestow these Papers as you bad me

Cassi. That done, repayre to Pompeyes Theater.

Exit Cinna.

Come Caska, you and I will yet, ere day,

See Brutus at his house: three parts of him

Is ours alreadie, and the man entire

Vpon the next encounter, yeelds him ours

Cask. O, he sits high in all the Peoples hearts:

And that which would appeare Offence in vs,

His Countenance, like richest Alchymie,

Will change to Vertue, and to Worthinesse

Cassi. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,

You haue right well conceited: let vs goe,

For it is after Mid-night, and ere day,

We will awake him, and be sure of him.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Brutus in his Orchard.

Brut. What Lucius, hoe?

I cannot, by the progresse of the Starres,

Giue guesse how neere to day- Lucius, I say?

I would it were my fault to sleepe so soundly.

When Lucius, when? awake, I say: what Lucius?

Enter Lucius.

Luc. Call'd you, my Lord?

Brut. Get me a Tapor in my Study, Lucius:

When it is lighted, come and call me here

Luc. I will, my Lord.

Enter.

Brut. It must be by his death: and for my part,

I know no personall cause, to spurne at him,

But for the generall. 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 craues warie walking: Crowne him that,

And then I graunt we put a Sting in him,

That at his will he may doe danger with.

Th' abuse of Greatnesse, is, when it dis-ioynes

Remorse from Power: And to speake truth of Caesar,

I haue not knowne, when his Affections sway'd

More then his Reason. But 'tis a common proofe,

That Lowlynesse is young Ambitions Ladder,

Whereto the Climber vpward turnes his Face:

But when he once attaines the vpmost Round,

He then vnto the Ladder turnes his Backe,

Lookes in the Clouds, scorning the base degrees

By which he did ascend: so Caesar may;

Then least he may, preuent. And since the Quarrell

Will beare no colour, for the thing he is,

Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,

Would runne to these, and these extremities:

And therefore thinke him as a Serpents egge,

Which hatch'd, would as his kinde grow mischieuous;

And kill him in the shell.

Enter Lucius.

Luc. The Taper burneth in your Closet, Sir:

Searching the Window for a Flint, I found

This Paper, thus seal'd vp, and I am sure

It did not lye there when I went to Bed.

Giues him the Letter.

Brut. Get you to Bed againe, it is not day:

Is not to morrow (Boy) the first of March?

Luc. I know not, Sir

Brut. Looke in the Calender, and bring me word

Luc. I will, Sir.

Enter.

Brut. The exhalations, whizzing in the ayre,

Giue so much light, that I may reade by them.

Opens the Letter, and reades.

Brutus thou sleep'st; awake, and see thy selfe:

Shall Rome, &c. speake, strike, redresse.

Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake.

Such instigations haue beene often dropt,

Where I haue tooke them vp:

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

Shall Rome stand vnder one mans awe? What Rome?

My Ancestors did from the streetes of Rome

The Tarquin driue, when he was call'd a King.

Speake, strike, redresse. Am I entreated

To speake, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,

If the redresse will follow, thou receiuest

Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus.

Enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, March is wasted fifteene dayes.

Knocke within.

Brut. 'Tis good. Go to the Gate, some body knocks:

Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,

I haue not slept.

Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing,

And the first motion, all the Interim is

Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dreame:

The Genius, and the mortall Instruments

Are then in councell; and the state of a man,

Like to a little Kingdome, suffers then

The nature of an Insurrection.

Enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, 'tis your Brother Cassius at the Doore,

Who doth desire to see you

Brut. Is he alone?

Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him

Brut. Doe you know them?

Luc. No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Eares,

And halfe their Faces buried in their Cloakes,

That by no meanes I may discouer them,

By any marke of fauour

Brut. Let 'em enter:

They are the Faction. O Conspiracie,

Sham'st thou to shew thy dang'rous Brow by Night,

When euills are most free? O then, by day

Where wilt thou finde a Cauerne darke enough,

To maske thy monstrous Visage? Seek none Conspiracie,

Hide it in Smiles, and Affabilitie:

For if thou path thy natiue semblance on,

Not Erebus it selfe were dimme enough,

To hide thee from preuention.

Enter the Conspirators, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Cinna, Metellus,

and

Trebonius.

Cass. I thinke we are too bold vpon your Rest:

Good morrow Brutus, doe we trouble you?

Brut. I haue beene vp this howre, awake all Night:

Know I these men, that come along with you?

Cass. Yes, euery man of them; and no man here

But honors you: and euery one doth wish,

You had but that opinion of your selfe,

Which euery Noble Roman beares of you.

This is Trebonius

Brut. He is welcome hither

Cass. This, Decius Brutus

Brut. He is welcome too

Cass. This, Caska; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus

Cymber

Brut. They are all welcome.

What watchfull Cares doe interpose themselues

Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?

Cass. Shall I entreat a word?

They whisper.

Decius. Here lyes the East: doth not the Day breake

heere?

Cask. No

Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey Lines,

That fret the Clouds, are Messengers of Day

Cask. You shall confesse, that you are both deceiu'd:

Heere, as I point my Sword, the Sunne arises,

Which is a great way growing on the South,

Weighing the youthfull Season of the yeare.

Some two moneths hence, vp higher toward the North

He first presents his fire, and the high East

Stands as the Capitoll, directly heere

Bru. Giue me your hands all ouer, one by one

Cas. And let vs sweare our Resolution

Brut. No, not an Oath: if not the Face of men,

The sufferance of our Soules, the times Abuse;

If these be Motiues weake, breake off betimes,

And euery 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) beare fire enough

To kindle Cowards, and to steele with valour

The melting Spirits of women. Then Countrymen,

What neede we any spurre, but our owne cause

To pricke vs to redresse? What other Bond,

Then secret Romans, that haue spoke the word,

And will not palter? And what other Oath,

Then Honesty to Honesty ingag'd,

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

Sweare Priests and Cowards, and men Cautelous

Old feeble Carrions, and such suffering Soules

That welcome wrongs: Vnto bad causes, sweare

Such Creatures as men doubt; but do not staine

The euen vertue of our Enterprize,

Nor th' insuppressiue Mettle of our Spirits,

To thinke, that or our Cause, or our Performance

Did neede an Oath. When euery drop of blood

That euery Roman beares, and Nobly beares

Is guilty of a seuerall Bastardie,

If he do breake the smallest Particle

Of any promise that hath past from him

Cas. But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?

I thinke he will stand very strong with vs

Cask. Let vs not leaue him out

Cyn. No, by no meanes

Metel. O let vs haue him, for his Siluer haires

Will purchase vs a good opinion:

And buy mens voyces, to commend our deeds:

It shall be sayd, his iudgement rul'd our hands,

Our youths, and wildenesse, shall no whit appeare,

But all be buried in his Grauity

Bru. O name him not; let vs not breake with him,

For he will neuer follow any thing

That other men begin

Cas. Then leaue him out

Cask. Indeed, he is not fit

Decius. Shall no man else be toucht, but onely Caesar?

Cas. Decius well vrg'd: I thinke it is not meet,

Marke Antony, so well belou'd of Caesar,

Should out-liue Caesar, we shall finde of him

A shrew'd Contriuer. And you know, his meanes

If he improue them, may well stretch so farre

As to annoy vs all: which to preuent,

Let Antony and Caesar fall together

Bru. Our course will seeme too bloody, Caius Cassius,

To cut the Head off, and then hacke the Limbes:

Like Wrath in death, and Enuy afterwards:

For Antony, is but a Limbe of Caesar.

Let's be Sacrificers, but not Butchers Caius:

We all stand vp against the spirit of Caesar,

And in the Spirit of men, there is no blood:

O that we then could come by Caesars 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 carue him, as a Dish fit for the Gods,

Not hew him as a Carkasse fit for Hounds:

And let our Hearts, as subtle Masters do,

Stirre vp their Seruants to an acte of Rage,

And after seeme to chide 'em. This shall make

Our purpose Necessary, and not Enuious.

Which so appearing to the common eyes,

We shall be call'd Purgers, not Murderers.

And for Marke Antony, thinke not of him:

For he can do no more then Caesars Arme,

When Caesars head is off

Cas. Yet I feare him,

For in the ingrafted loue he beares to Caesar

Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not thinke of him:

If he loue Caesar, all that he can do

Is to himselfe; take thought, and dye for Caesar,

And that were much he should: for he is giuen

To sports, to wildenesse, and much company

Treb. There is no feare in him; let him not dye,

For he will liue, and laugh at this heereafter.

Clocke strikes.

Bru. Peace, count the Clocke

Cas. The Clocke hath stricken three

Treb. 'Tis time to part

Cass. But it is doubtfull yet,

Whether Caesar will come forth to day, or no:

For he is Superstitious growne of late,

Quite from the maine Opinion he held once,

Of Fantasie, of Dreames, and Ceremonies:

It may be, these apparant Prodigies,

The vnaccustom'd Terror of this night,

And the perswasion of his Augurers,

May hold him from the Capitoll to day

Decius. Neuer feare that: If he be so resolu'd,

I can ore-sway him: For he loues to heare,

That Vnicornes may be betray'd with Trees,

And Beares with Glasses, Elephants with Holes,

Lyons with Toyles, and men with Flatterers.

But, when I tell him, he hates Flatterers,

He sayes, he does; being then most flattered.

Let me worke:

For I can giue his humour the true bent;

And I will bring him to the Capitoll

Cas. Nay, we will all of vs, be there to fetch him

Bru. By the eight houre, is that the vttermost?

Cin. Be that the vttermost, and faile not then

Met. Caius Ligarius doth beare Caesar hard,

Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;

I wonder none of you haue thought of him

Bru. Now good Metellus go along by him:

He loues me well, and I haue giuen him Reasons,

Send him but hither, and Ile fashion him

Cas. The morning comes vpon's:

Wee'l leaue you Brutus,

And Friends disperse your selues; but all remember

What you haue said, and shew your selues true Romans

Bru. Good Gentlemen, looke fresh and merrily,

Let not our lookes put on our purposes,

But beare it as our Roman Actors do,

With vntyr'd Spirits, and formall Constancie,

And so good morrow to you euery one.

Exeunt.

Manet Brutus.

Boy: Lucius: Fast asleepe? It is no matter,

Enioy the hony-heauy-Dew of Slumber:

Thou hast no Figures, nor no Fantasies,

Which busie care drawes, in the braines of men;

Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

Enter Portia.

Por. Brutus, my Lord

Bru. Portia: What meane you? wherfore rise you now?

It is not for your health, thus to commit

Your weake condition, to the raw cold morning

Por. Nor for yours neither. Y'haue vngently Brutus

Stole from my bed: and yesternight at Supper

You sodainly arose, and walk'd about,

Musing, and sighing, with your armes acrosse

And when I ask'd you what the matter was,

You star'd vpon me, with vngentle lookes.

I vrg'd you further, then you scratch'd your head,

And too impatiently stampt with your foote:

Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,

But with an angry wafter of your hand

Gaue signe for me to leaue you: So I did,

Fearing to strengthen that impatience

Which seem'd too much inkindled; and withall,

Hoping it was but an effect of Humor,

Which sometime hath his houre with euery man.

It will not let you eate, nor talke, nor sleepe;

And could it worke so much vpon your shape,

As it hath much preuayl'd on your Condition,

I should not know you Brutus. Deare my Lord,

Make me acquainted with your cause of greefe

Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all

Por. Brutus is wise, and were he not in health,

He would embrace the meanes to come by it

Bru. Why so I do: good Portia go to bed

Por. Is Brutus sicke? And is it Physicall

To walke vnbraced, and sucke vp the humours

Of the danke Morning? What, is Brutus sicke?

And will he steale out of his wholsome bed

To dare the vile contagion of the Night?

And tempt the Rhewmy, and vnpurged Ayre,

To adde vnto his sicknesse? No my Brutus,

You haue some sicke Offence within your minde,

Which by the Right and Vertue of my place

I ought to know of: And vpon my knees,

I charme you, by my once commended Beauty,

By all your vowes of Loue, and that great Vow

Which did incorporate and make vs one,

That you vnfold to me, your selfe; your halfe

Why you are heauy: and what men to night

Haue had resort to you: for heere haue beene

Some sixe or seuen, who did hide their faces

Euen from darknesse

Bru. Kneele not gentle Portia

Por. I should not neede, if you were gentle Brutus.

Within the Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus,

Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets

That appertaine to you? Am I your Selfe,

But as it were in sort, or limitation?

To keepe with you at Meales, comfort your Bed,

And talke to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the Suburbs

Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,

Portia is Brutus Harlot, not his Wife

Bru. You are my true and honourable Wife,

As deere to me, as are the ruddy droppes

That visit my sad heart

Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret.

I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,

A Woman that Lord Brutus tooke to Wife:

I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,

A Woman well reputed: Cato's Daughter.

Thinke you, I am no stronger then my Sex

Being so Father'd, and so Husbanded?

Tell me your Counsels, I will not disclose 'em:

I haue made strong proofe of my Constancie,

Giuing my selfe a voluntary wound

Heere, in the Thigh: Can I beare that with patience,

And not my Husbands Secrets?

Bru. O ye Gods!

Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.

Knocke.

Harke, harke, one knockes: Portia go in a while,

And by and by thy bosome shall partake

The secrets of my Heart.

All my engagements, I will construe to thee,

All the Charractery of my sad browes:

Leaue me with hast.

Exit Portia.

Enter Lucius and Ligarius.

Lucius, who's that knockes

Luc. Heere is a sicke man that would speak with you

Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.

Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?

Cai. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue

Bru. O what a time haue you chose out braue Caius

To weare a Kerchiefe? Would you were not sicke

Cai. I am not sicke, if Brutus haue in hand

Any exploit worthy the name of Honor

Bru. Such an exploit haue I in hand Ligarius,

Had you a healthfull eare to heare of it

Cai. By all the Gods that Romans bow before,

I heere discard my sicknesse. Soule of Rome,

Braue Sonne, deriu'd from Honourable Loines,

Thou like an Exorcist, hast coniur'd vp

My mortified Spirit. Now bid me runne,

And I will striue with things impossible,

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

Bru. A peece of worke,

That will make sicke men whole

Cai. But are not some whole, that we must make sicke?

Bru. That must we also. What it is my Caius,

I shall vnfold to thee, as we are going,

To whom it must be done

Cai. Set on your foote,

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

Bru. Follow me then.

Exeunt.

Thunder & Lightning

Enter Iulius Caesar in his Night-gowne.

Caesar. Nor Heauen, nor Earth,

Haue beene at peace to night:

Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her sleepe cryed out,

Helpe, ho: They murther Caesar. Who's within?

Enter a Seruant.

Ser. My Lord

Caes Go bid the Priests do present Sacrifice,

And bring me their opinions of Successe

Ser. I will my Lord.

Exit

Enter Calphurnia.

Cal. What mean you Caesar? Think you to walk forth?

You shall not stirre out of your house to day

Caes Caesar shall forth; the things that threaten'd me,

Ne're look'd but on my backe: When they shall see

The face of Caesar, they are vanished

Calp. Caesar, I neuer stood on Ceremonies,

Yet now they fright me: There is one within,

Besides the things that we haue heard and seene,

Recounts most horrid sights seene by the Watch.

A Lionnesse hath whelped in the streets,

And Graues haue yawn'd, and yeelded vp their dead;

Fierce fiery Warriours fight vpon the Clouds

In Rankes and Squadrons, and right forme of Warre

Which drizel'd blood vpon the Capitoll:

The noise of Battell hurtled in the Ayre:

Horsses do neigh, and dying men did grone,

And Ghosts did shrieke and squeale about the streets.

O Caesar, these things are beyond all vse,

And I do feare them

Caes What can be auoyded

Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?

Yet Caesar shall go forth: for these Predictions

Are to the world in generall, as to Caesar

Calp. When Beggers dye, there are no Comets seen,

The Heauens themselues blaze forth the death of Princes

Caes Cowards dye many times before their deaths,

The valiant neuer taste of death but once:

Of all the Wonders that I yet haue heard,

It seemes to me most strange that men should feare,

Seeing that death, a necessary end

Will come, when it will come.

Enter a Seruant.

What say the Augurers?

Ser. They would not haue you to stirre forth to day.

Plucking the intrailes of an Offering forth,

They could not finde a heart within the beast

Caes The Gods do this in shame of Cowardice:

Caesar should be a Beast without a heart

If he should stay at home to day for feare:

No Caesar shall not; Danger knowes full well

That Caesar is more dangerous then he.

We heare two Lyons litter'd in one day,

And I the elder and more terrible,

And Caesar shall go foorth

Calp. Alas my Lord,

Your wisedome is consum'd in confidence:

Do not go forth to day: Call it my feare,

That keepes you in the house, and not your owne.

Wee'l send Mark Antony to the Senate house,

And he shall say, you are not well to day:

Let me vpon my knee, preuaile in this

Caes Mark Antony shall say I am not well,

And for thy humor, I will stay at home.

Enter Decius.

Heere's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so

Deci. Caesar, all haile: Good morrow worthy Caesar,

I come to fetch you to the Senate house

Caes And you are come in very happy time,

To beare my greeting to the Senators,

And tell them that I will not come to day:

Cannot, is false: and that I dare not, falser:

I will not come to day, tell them so Decius

Calp. Say he is sicke

Caes Shall Caesar send a Lye?

Haue I in Conquest stretcht mine Arme so farre,

To be afear'd to tell Gray-beards the truth:

Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come

Deci. Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,

Lest I be laught at when I tell them so

Caes The cause is in my Will, I will not come,

That is enough to satisfie the Senate.

But for your priuate satisfaction,

Because I loue you, I will let you know.

Calphurnia heere my wife, stayes me at home:

She dreampt to night, she saw my Statue,

Which like a Fountaine, with an hundred spouts

Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans

Came smiling, & did bathe their hands in it:

And these does she apply, for warnings and portents,

And euils imminent; and on her knee

Hath begg'd, that I will stay at home to day

Deci. This Dreame is all amisse interpreted,

It was a vision, faire and fortunate:

Your Statue spouting blood in many pipes,

In which so many smiling Romans bath'd,

Signifies, that from you great Rome shall sucke

Reuiuing blood, and that great men shall presse

For Tinctures, Staines, Reliques, and Cognisance.

This by Calphurnia's Dreame is signified

Caes And this way haue you well expounded it

Deci. I haue, when you haue heard what I can say:

And know it now, the Senate haue concluded

To giue this day, a Crowne to mighty Caesar.

If you shall send them word you will not come,

Their mindes may change. Besides, it were a mocke

Apt to be render'd, for some one to say,

Breake vp the Senate, till another time:

When Caesars wife shall meete with better Dreames.

If Caesar hide himselfe, shall they not whisper

Loe Caesar is affraid?

Pardon me Caesar, for my deere deere loue

To your proceeding, bids me tell you this:

And reason to my loue is liable

Caes How foolish do your fears seeme now Calphurnia?

I am ashamed I did yeeld to them.

Giue me my Robe, for I will go.

Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Caska, Trebonius, Cynna, and

Publius.

And looke where Publius is come to fetch me

Pub. Good morrow Caesar

Caes Welcome Publius.

What Brutus, are you stirr'd so earely too?

Good morrow Caska: Caius Ligarius,

Caesar was ne're so much your enemy,

As that same Ague which hath made you leane.

What is't a Clocke?

Bru. Caesar, 'tis strucken eight

Caes I thanke you for your paines and curtesie.

Enter Antony.

See, Antony that Reuels long a-nights

Is notwithstanding vp. Good morrow Antony

Ant. So to most Noble Caesar

Caes Bid them prepare within:

I am too blame to be thus waited for.

Now Cynna, now Metellus: what Trebonius,

I haue an houres talke in store for you:

Remember that you call on me to day:

Be neere me, that I may remember you