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About this text

  • Title: Julius Caesar (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: John D. Cox
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-366-3

    Copyright John D. Cox. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: John D. Cox
    Peer Reviewed

    Julius Caesar (Folio 1, 1623)

    120The Tragedie of Julius Caesar
    And this, the bleeding businesse they haue done:
    1390Our hearts you see not, they are pittifull:
    And pitty to the generall wrong of Rome,
    As fire driues out fire, so pitty, pitty
    Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,
    To you, our Swords haue leaden points Marke Antony:
    1395Our Armes in strength of malice, and our Hearts
    Of Brothers temper, do receiue you in,
    With all kinde loue, good thoughts, and reuerence.
    Cassi. Your voyce shall be as strong as any mans,
    In the disposing of new Dignities.
    1400Bru. Onely be patient, till we haue appeas'd
    The Multitude, beside themselues with feare,
    And then, we will deliuer you the cause,
    Why I, that did loue Caesar when I strooke him,
    Haue thus proceeded.
    1405Ant. I doubt not of your Wisedome:
    Let each man render me his bloody hand.
    First Marcus Brutus will I shake with you;
    Next Caius Cassius do I take your hand;
    Now Decius Brutus yours; now yours Metellus;
    1410Yours Cinna; and my valiant Caska, yours;
    Though last, not least in loue, yours good Trebonius.
    Gentlemen all: Alas, what shall I say,
    My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
    That one of two bad wayes you must conceit me,
    1415Either a Coward, or a Flatterer.
    That I did loue thee Caesar, O 'tis true:
    If then thy Spirit looke vpon vs now,
    Shall it not greeue thee deerer then thy death,
    To see thy Antony making his peace,
    1420Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes?
    Most Noble, in the presence of thy Coarse,
    Had I as many eyes, as thou hast wounds,
    Weeping as fast as they streame forth thy blood,
    It would become me better, then to close
    1425In tearmes of Friendship with thine enemies.
    Pardon me Iulius, heere was't thou bay'd braue Hart,
    Heere did'st thou fall, and heere thy Hunters stand
    Sign'd in thy Spoyle, and Crimson'd in thy Lethee.
    O World! thou wast the Forrest to this Hart,
    1430And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee.
    How like a Deere, stroken by many Princes,
    Dost thou heere lye?
    Cassi. Mark Antony.
    Ant. Pardon me Caius Cassius:
    1435The Enemies of Caesar, shall say this:
    Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modestie.
    Cassi. I blame you not for praising Caesar so,
    But what compact meane you to haue with vs?
    Will you be prick'd in number of our Friends,
    1440Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
    Ant. Therefore I tooke your hands, but was indeed
    Sway'd from the point, by looking downe on Caesar.
    Friends am I with you all, and loue you all,
    Vpon this hope, that you shall giue me Reasons,
    1445Why, and wherein, Caesar was dangerous.
    Bru. Or else were this a sauage Spectacle:
    Our Reasons are so full of good regard,
    That were you Antony, the Sonne of Caesar,
    You should be satisfied.
    1450Ant. That's all I seeke,
    And am moreouer sutor, that I may
    Produce his body to the Market-place,
    And in the Pulpit as becomes a Friend,
    Speake in the Order of his Funerall.
    1455Bru. You shall Marke Antony.
    Cassi. Brutus, a word with you:
    You know not what you do; Do not consent
    That Antony speake in his Funerall:
    Know you how much the people may be mou'd
    1460By that which he will vtter.
    Bru. By your pardon:
    I will my selfe into the Pulpit first,
    And shew the reason of our Caesars death.
    What Antony shall speake, I will protest
    1465He speakes by leaue, and by permission:
    And that we are contented Caesar shall
    Haue all true Rites, and lawfull Ceremonies,
    It shall aduantage more, then do vs wrong.
    Cassi. I know not what may fall, I like it not.
    1470Bru. Mark Antony, heere take you Caesars body:
    You shall not in your Funerall speech blame vs,
    But speake all good you can deuise of Caesar,
    And say you doo't by our permission:
    Else shall you not haue any hand at all
    1475About his Funerall. And you shall speake
    In the same Pulpit whereto I am going,
    After my speech is ended.
    Ant. Be it so:
    I do desire no more.
    1480Bru. Prepare the body then, and follow vs. Exeunt.
    Manet Antony.
    O pardon me, thou bleeding peece of Earth:
    That I am meeke and gentle with these Butchers.
    Thou art the Ruines of the Noblest man
    1485That euer liued in the Tide of Times.
    Woe to the hand that shed this costly Blood.
    Ouer thy wounds, now do I Prophesie,
    (Which like dumbe mouthes do ope their Ruby lips,
    To begge the voyce and vtterance of my Tongue)
    1490A Curse shall light vpon the limbes of men;
    Domesticke Fury, and fierce Ciuill strife,
    Shall cumber all the parts of Italy:
    Blood and destruction shall be so in vse,
    And dreadfull Obiects so familiar,
    1495That Mothers shall but smile, when they behold
    Their Infants quartered with the hands of Warre:
    All pitty choak'd with custome of fell deeds,
    And Caesars Spirit ranging for Reuenge,
    With Ate by his side, come hot from Hell,
    1500Shall in these Confines, with a Monarkes voyce,
    Cry hauocke, and let slip the Dogges of Warre,
    That this foule deede, shall smell aboue the earth
    With Carrion men, groaning for Buriall.
    Enter Octauio's Seruant.
    1505You serue Octauius Caesar, do you not?
    Ser. I do Marke Antony.
    Ant. Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.
    Ser. He did receiue his Letters, and is comming,
    And bid me say to you by word of mouth---
    1510O Caesar!
    Ant. Thy heart is bigge: get thee a-part and weepe:
    Passion I see is catching from mine eyes,
    Seeing those Beads of sorrow stand in thine,
    Began to water. Is thy Master comming?
    1515Ser. He lies to night within seuen Leagues of Rome.
    Ant. Post backe with speede,
    And tell him what hath chanc'd:
    Heere is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
    No Rome of safety for Octauius yet,
    1520Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet stay a-while,