Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: John D. Cox
Peer Reviewed

Julius Caesar (Folio 1, 1623)

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,
Because I knew the man was slighted off.
1975Bru. You wrong'd your selfe to write in such a case.
Cassi. In such a time as this, it is not meet
That euery nice offence should beare his Comment.
Bru. Let me tell you Cassius, you your selfe
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,
Or by the Gods, this speech were else your last.
1985Bru. The name of Cassius Honors this corruption,
And Chasticement doth therefore hide his head.
Cassi. Chasticement?
Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remẽmber:
Did not great Iulius bleede for Iustice sake?
1990What Villaine touch'd his body, that did stab,
And not for Iustice? What? Shall one of Vs,
That strucke the Formost man of all this World,
But for supporting Robbers: shall we now,
Contaminate our fingers, with base Bribes?
1995And sell the mighty space of our large Honors
For so much trash, as may be grasped thus?
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.
Bru. Go too: you are not Cassius.
2005Cassi. I am.
Bru. I say, you are not.
Cassi. Vrge me no more, I shall forget my selfe:
Haue minde vpon your health: Tempt me no farther.
Bru. Away slight man.
2010Cassi. Is't possible?
Bru. Heare me, for I will speake.
Must I giue way, and roome to your rash Choller?
Shall I be frighted, when a Madman stares?
Cassi. O ye Gods, ye Gods, Must I endure all this?
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?
Must I obserue you? Must I stand and crouch
Vnder your Testie Humour? By the Gods,
2020You shall digest the Venom of your Spleene
Though it do Split you. For, from this day forth,
Ile vse you for my Mirth, yea for my Laughter
When you are Waspish.
Cassi. Is it come to this?
2025Bru. You say, you are a better Souldier:
Let it appeare so; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well. For mine owne part,
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.
Cass. When Caesar liu'd, he durst not thus haue mou'd (me.
2035Brut. Peace, peace, you durst not so haue tempted him.
Cass.
The Tragedie of Julius Caesar 125
Cassi. I durst not.
Bru. No.
Cassi. What? durst not tempt him?
Bru. For your life you durst not.
2040Cassi. Do not presume too much vpon my Loue,
I may do that I shall be sorry for.
Bru. You haue done that you should be sorry for.
There is no terror Cassius in your threats:
For I am Arm'd so strong in Honesty,
2045That they passe by me, as the idle winde,
Which I respect not. I did send to you
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,
Which you deny'd me: was that done like Cassius?
2055Should I haue answer'd Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus growes so Couetous,
To locke such Rascall Counters from his Friends,
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.
Cassi. A friendly eye could neuer see such faults.
2070Bru. A Flatterers would not, though they do appeare
As huge as high Olympus.
Cassi. Come Antony, and yong Octauius come,
Reuenge your selues alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is a-weary of the World:
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:
Strike as thou did'st at Caesar: For I know,
2085When thou did'st hate him worst, yu loued'st him better
Then euer thou loued'st Cassius.
Bru. Sheath your Dagger:
Be angry when you will, it shall haue scope:
Do what you will, Dishonor, shall be Humour.
2090O Cassius, you are yoaked with a Lambe
That carries Anger, as the Flint beares fire,
Who much inforced, shewes a hastie Sparke,
And straite is cold agen.
Cassi. Hath Cassius liu'd
2095To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,
When greefe and blood ill temper'd, vexeth him?
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill remper'd too.
Cassi. Do you confesse so much? Giue me your hand.
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.
2105Bru. Yes Cassius, and from henceforth
When you are ouer-earnest with your Brutus,
Hee'l thinke your Mother chides, and leaue you so.
Enter a Poet.
Poet. Let me go in to see the Generals,
2110There is some grudge betweene 'em, 'tis not meete
They be alone.
Lucil. You shall not come to them.
Poet. Nothing but death shall stay me.
Cas. How now? What's the matter?
2115Poet. For shame you Generals; what do you meane?
Loue, and be Friends, as two such men should bee,
For I haue seene more yeeres I'me sure then yee.
Cas. Ha, ha, how vildely doth this Cynicke rime?
Bru. Get you hence sirra: Sawcy Fellow, hence.
2120Cas. Beare with him Brutus, 'tis his fashion.
Brut. Ile know his humor, when he knowes his time:
What should the Warres do with these Iigging Fooles?
Companion, hence.
Cas. Away, away be gone. Exit Poet
2125Bru. Lucillius and Titinius bid the Commanders
Prepare to lodge their Companies to night.
Cas. And come your selues, & bring Messala with you
Immediately to vs.
Bru. Lucius, a bowle of Wine.
2130Cas. I did not thinke you could haue bin so angry.
Bru. O Cassius, I am sicke of many greefes.
Cas. Of your Philosophy you make no vse,
If you giue place to accidentall euils.
Bru. No man beares sorrow better. Portia is dead.
2135Cas. Ha? Portia?
Bru. She is dead.
Cas. How scap'd I killing, when I crost you so?
O insupportable, and touching losse!
Vpon what sicknesse?
2140Bru. Impatient of my absence,
And greefe, that yong Octauius with Mark Antony
Haue made themselues so strong: For with her death
That tydings came. With this she fell distract,
And (her Attendants absent) swallow'd fire.
2145Cas. And dy'd so?
Bru. Euen so.
Cas. O ye immortall Gods!
Enter Boy with Wine, and Tapers.
Bru. Speak no more of her: Giue me a bowl of wine,
2150In this I bury all vnkindnesse Cassius. Drinkes
Cas. My heart is thirsty for that Noble pledge.
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:
Welcome good Messala:
Now sit we close about this Taper heere,
And call in question our necessities.
Cass. Portia, art thou gone?
2160Bru. No more I pray you.
Messala, I haue heere receiued Letters,
That yong Octauius, and Marke Antony
Come downe vpon vs with a mighty power,
Bending their Expedition toward Philippi.
ll3 Mess.
126The Tragedie of Julius Caesar
2165Mess. My selfe haue Letters of the selfe-same Tenure.
Bru. With what Addition.
Mess. That by proscription, and billes of Outlarie,
Octauius, Antony, and Lepidus,
Haue put to death, an hundred Senators.
2170Bru. Therein our Letters do not well agree:
Mine speake of seuenty Senators, that dy'de
By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.
Cassi. Cicero one?
Messa. Cicero is dead, and by that order of proscription
2175Had you your Letters from your wife, my Lord?
Bru. No Messala.
Messa. Nor nothing in your Letters writ of her?
Bru. Nothing Messala.
Messa. That me thinkes is strange.
2180Bru. Why aske you?
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,
2185For certaine she is dead, and by strange manner.
Bru. Why farewell Portia: We must die Messala:
With meditating that she must dye once,
I haue the patience to endure it now.
Messa. Euen so great men, great losses shold indure.
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.
2195Bru. Your reason?
Cassi. This it is:
'Tis better that the Enemie seeke vs,
So shall he waste his meanes, weary his Souldiers,
Doing himselfe offence, whil'st we lying still,
2200Are full of rest, defence, and nimblenesse.
Bru. Good reasons must of force giue place to better:
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.
Bru. Vnder your pardon. You must note beside,
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,
And we must take the current when it serues,
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,
And Nature must obey Necessitie,
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.
Bru. Lucius my Gowne: farewell good Messala,
Good night Titinius: Noble, Noble Cassius,
2235Good night, and good repose.
Cassi. O my deere Brother:
This was an ill beginning of the night:
Neuer come such diuision 'tweene our soules:
Let it not Brutus.
2240Enter 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.
2245Bru. Farwell euery one. Exeunt.
Giue me the Gowne. Where is thy Instrument?
Luc. Heere in the Tent.
Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily?
Poore knaue I blame thee not, thou art ore-watch'd.
2250Call Claudio, and some other of my men,
Ile haue them sleepe on Cushions in my Tent.
Luc. Varrus, and Claudio.
Enter Varrus and Claudio.
Var. Cals my Lord?
2255Bru. I pray you sirs, lye in my Tent and sleepe,
It may be I shall raise you by and by
On businesse to my Brother Cassius.
Var. So please you, we will stand,
And watch your pleasure.
2260Bru. I will it not haue it so: Lye downe good sirs,
It may be I shall otherwise bethinke me.
Looke Lucius, heere's the booke I sought for so:
I put it in the pocket of my Gowne.
Luc. I was sure your Lordship did not giue it me.
2265Bru. Beare with me good Boy, I am much forgetfull.
Canst thou hold vp thy heauie eyes a-while,
And touch thy Instrument a straine or two.
Luc. I my Lord, an't please you.
Bru. It does my Boy:
2270I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
Luc. It is my duty Sir.
Brut. I should not vrge thy duty past thy might,
I know yong bloods looke for a time of rest.
Luc. I haue slept my Lord already.
2275Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt sleepe againe:
I will not hold thee long. If I do liue,
I will be good to thee.
Musicke, and a Song.
This is a sleepy Tune: O Murd'rous slumbler!
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:
If thou do'st nod, thou break'st thy Instrument,
Ile take it from thee, and (good Boy) good night.
2285Let me see, let me see; is not the Leafe turn'd downe
Where I left reading? Heere it is I thinke.
Enter the Ghost of Caesar.
How ill this Taper burnes. Ha! Who comes heere?
I thinke it is the weakenesse of mine eyes
2290That shapes this monstrous Apparition.
It comes vpon me: Art thou any thing?
Art thou some God, some Angell, or some Diuell,
That mak'st my blood cold, and my haire to stare?
Speake to me, what thou art.
2295Ghost. Thy euill Spirit Brutus?
Bru. Why com'st thou?
Ghost.
The Tragedie of Julius Caesar 127
Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Brut. Well: then I shall see thee againe?
Ghost. I, at Philippi.
2300Brut. Why I will see thee at Philippi then:
Now I haue taken heart, thou vanishest.
Ill Spirit, I would hold more talke with thee.
Boy, Lucius, Varrus, Claudio, Sirs: Awake:
Claudio.
2305Luc. The strings my Lord, are false.
Bru. He thinkes he still is at his Instrument.
Lucius, awake.
Luc. My Lord.
Bru. Did'st thou dreame Lucius, that thou so cryedst
2310out?
Luc. My Lord, I do not know that I did cry.
Bru. Yes that thou did'st: Did'st thou see any thing?
Luc. Nothing my Lord.
Bru. Sleepe againe Lucius: Sirra Claudio, Fellow,
2315Thou: Awake.
Var. My Lord.
Claeu. My Lord.
Bru. Why did you so cry out sirs, in your sleepe?
Both. Did we my Lord?
2320Bru. I: saw you any thing?
Var. No my Lord, I saw nothing.
Clau. Nor I my Lord.
Bru. Go, and commend me to my Brother Cassius:
Bid him set on his Powres betimes before,
2325And we will follow.
Both. It shall be done my Lord. Exeunt