Julius Caesar (Folio 1, 1623)
Peer Reviewed
1970Cassi. That you haue wrong'd me, doth appear in this:
¶You haue condemn'd, and noted Lucius Pella
¶For taking Bribes heere of the Sardians;
¶Wherein my Letters, praying on his side,
¶That euery nice offence should beare his Comment.
¶Are much condemn'd to haue an itching Palme,
1980To sell, and Mart your Offices for Gold
¶To Vndeseruers.
¶Cassi. I, an itching Palme?
¶You know that you are Brutus that speakes this,
¶And Chasticement doth therefore hide his head.
¶Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remẽmber:
1990What Villaine touch'd his body, that did stab,
¶And not for Iustice? What? Shall one of Vs,
¶Contaminate our fingers, with base Bribes?
¶I had rather be a Dogge, and bay the Moone,
¶Then such a Roman.
¶Cassi. Brutus, baite not me,
2000Ile not indure it: you forget your selfe
¶To hedge me in. I am a Souldier, I,
¶Older in practice, Abler then your selfe
¶To make Conditions.
2005Cassi. I am.
¶Haue minde vpon your health: Tempt me no farther.
¶Shall I be frighted, when a Madman stares?
2015Bru. All this? I more: Fret till your proud hart break.
¶Go shew your Slaues how Chollericke you are,
¶And make your Bondmen tremble. Must I bouge?
¶Vnder your Testie Humour? By the Gods,
¶Though it do Split you. For, from this day forth,
¶Ile vse you for my Mirth, yea for my Laughter
¶Cassi. Is it come to this?
¶Let it appeare so; make your vaunting true,
¶I shall be glad to learne of Noble men.
¶Cass. You wrong me euery way:
2030You wrong me Brutus:
¶I saide, an Elder Souldier, not a Better.
¶Did I say Better?
¶Bru. If you did, I care not.
¶Bru. No.
¶For certaine summes of Gold, which you deny'd me,
¶For I can raise no money by vile meanes:
¶By Heauen, I had rather Coine my Heart,
2050And drop my blood for Drachmaes, then to wring
¶From the hard hands of Peazants, their vile trash
¶By any indirection. I did send
¶To you for Gold to pay my Legions,
¶When Marcus Brutus growes so Couetous,
¶Be ready Gods with all your Thunder-bolts,
¶Dash him to peeces.
2060Cassi. I deny'd you not.
¶Bru. You did.
¶Cassi. I did not. He was but a Foole
¶That brought my answer back. Brutus hath riu'd my hart:
¶A Friend should beare his Friends infirmities;
2065But Brutus makes mine greater then they are.
¶Bru. I do not, till you practice them on me.
¶Cassi. You loue me not.
¶Bru. I do not like your faults.
2070Bru. A Flatterers would not, though they do appeare
¶As huge as high Olympus.
¶Cassi. Come Antony, and yong Octauius come,
2075Hated by one he loues, brau'd by his Brother,
¶Check'd like a bondman, all his faults obseru'd,
¶Set in a Note-booke, learn'd, and con'd by roate
¶To cast into my Teeth. O I could weepe
¶My Spirit from mine eyes. There is my Dagger,
2080And heere my naked Breast: Within, a Heart
¶Deerer then Pluto's Mine, Richer then Gold:
¶If that thou bee'st a Roman, take it foorth.
¶I that deny'd thee Gold, will giue my Heart:
¶Bru. Sheath your Dagger:
¶That carries Anger, as the Flint beares fire,
¶And straite is cold agen.
2095To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,
¶When greefe and blood ill temper'd, vexeth him?
¶Bru. And my heart too.
2100Cassi. O Brutus!
¶Bru. What's the matter?
¶Cassi. Haue not you loue enough to beare with me,
¶When that rash humour which my Mother gaue me
¶Makes me forgetfull.
¶When you are ouer-earnest with your Brutus,
¶Hee'l thinke your Mother chides, and leaue you so.
¶
Enter a Poet.
2110There is some grudge betweene 'em, 'tis not meete
¶They be alone.
¶Cas. How now? What's the matter?
¶Cas. Ha, ha, how vildely doth this Cynicke rime?
¶Brut. Ile know his humor, when he knowes his time:
¶Companion, hence.
2125Bru. Lucillius and Titinius bid the Commanders
¶Prepare to lodge their Companies to night.
¶Immediately to vs.
¶Bru. Lucius, a bowle of Wine.
¶If you giue place to accidentall euils.
2135Cas. Ha? Portia?
¶Bru. She is dead.
¶And greefe, that yong Octauius with Mark Antony
¶Cas. O ye immortall Gods!
¶
Enter Boy with Wine, and Tapers.
¶Bru. Speak no more of her: Giue me a bowl of wine,
Drinkes
¶Fill Lucius, till the Wine ore-swell the Cup:
¶I cannot drinke too much of Brutus loue.
¶
Enter Titinius and Messala.
2155Brutus. Come in Titinius:
¶Cass. Portia, art thou gone?
2160Bru. No more I pray you.
¶That yong Octauius, and Marke Antony
¶Come downe vpon vs with a mighty power,
¶Bending their Expedition toward Philippi.
¶Bru. With what Addition.
¶Octauius, Antony, and Lepidus,
¶Haue put to death, an hundred Senators.
2170Bru. Therein our Letters do not well agree:
¶By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.
¶Cassi. Cicero one?
2175Had you your Letters from your wife, my Lord?
¶Messa. Nor nothing in your Letters writ of her?
¶Heare you ought of her, in yours?
¶Messa. No my Lord.
¶Bru. Now as you are a Roman tell me true.
¶Messa. Then like a Roman, beare the truth I tell,
¶I haue the patience to endure it now.
2190Cassi. I haue as much of this in Art as you,
¶But yet my Nature could not beare it so.
¶Bru. Well, to our worke aliue. What do you thinke
¶Of marching to Philippi presently.
¶Cassi. I do not thinke it good.
¶Cassi. This it is:
¶'Tis better that the Enemie seeke vs,
¶The people 'twixt Philippi, and this ground
¶Do stand but in a forc'd affection:
¶For they haue grug'd vs Contribution.
2205The Enemy, marching along by them,
¶By them shall make a fuller number vp,
¶Come on refresht, new added, and encourag'd:
¶From which aduantage shall we cut him off.
¶If at Philippi we do face him there,
2210These people at our backe.
¶Cassi. Heare me good Brother.
¶That we haue tride the vtmost of our Friends:
¶Our Legions are brim full, our cause is ripe,
2215The Enemy encreaseth euery day,
¶We at the height, are readie to decline.
¶There is a Tide in the affayres of men,
¶Which taken at the Flood, leades on to Fortune:
¶Omitted, all the voyage of their life,
2220Is bound in Shallowes, and in Miseries.
¶On such a full Sea are we now a-float,
¶Or loose our Ventures.
¶Cassi. Then with your will go on: wee'l along
2225Our selues, and meet them at Philippi.
¶Bru. The deepe of night is crept vpon our talke,
¶Which we will niggard with a little rest:
¶There is no more to say.
2230Cassi. No more, good night,
¶Early to morrow will we rise, and hence.
¶
Enter Lucius.
2235Good night, and good repose.
¶Cassi. O my deere Brother:
¶This was an ill beginning of the night:
¶Let it not Brutus.
2240
Enter Lucius with the Gowne.
¶Bru. Euery thing is well.
¶Cassi. Good night my Lord.
¶Bru. Good night good Brother.
¶Tit. Messa. Good night Lord Brutus.
¶Giue me the Gowne. Where is thy Instrument?
¶Luc. Heere in the Tent.
¶Poore knaue I blame thee not, thou art ore-watch'd.
2250Call Claudio, and some other of my men,
¶Luc. Varrus, and Claudio.
¶
Enter Varrus and Claudio.
¶Var. Cals my Lord?
¶And watch your pleasure.
¶I put it in the pocket of my Gowne.
2265Bru. Beare with me good Boy, I am much forgetfull.
¶Canst thou hold vp thy heauie eyes a-while,
¶Bru. It does my Boy:
2270I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
¶Luc. It is my duty Sir.
¶I know yong bloods looke for a time of rest.
¶I will not hold thee long. If I do liue,
¶I will be good to thee.
¶
Musicke, and a Song.
2280Layest thou thy Leaden Mace vpon my Boy,
¶That playes thee Musicke? Gentle knaue good night:
¶I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee:
¶Ile take it from thee, and (good Boy) good night.
¶Where I left reading? Heere it is I thinke.
¶
Enter the Ghost of Cæsar.
¶How ill this Taper burnes. Ha! Who comes heere?
¶It comes vpon me: Art thou any thing?
¶Speake to me, what thou art.
2295Ghost. Thy euill Spirit Brutus?
¶Ghost. I, at Philippi.
¶Ill Spirit, I would hold more talke with thee.
¶Boy, Lucius, Varrus, Claudio, Sirs: Awake:
¶Claudio.
¶Lucius, awake.
¶Luc. My Lord.
2310out?
¶Luc. My Lord, I do not know that I did cry.
¶Luc. Nothing my Lord.
¶Bru. Sleepe againe Lucius: Sirra Claudio, Fellow,
2315Thou: Awake.
¶Var. My Lord.
¶Clæu. My Lord.
¶Both. Did we my Lord?
¶Clau. Nor I my Lord.
¶Bid him set on his Powres betimes before,
2325And we will follow.
