Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Julius Caesar (Modern)
  • Editor: John D. Cox
  • General textual editor: Eric Rasmussen
  • Coordinating editor: Michael Best
  • 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 (Modern)

    Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucilius, and the army. Titinius and Pindarus meet them.
    Stand, ho!
    Give the word, ho, and stand!
    What now, Lucilius, is Cassius near?
    He is at hand, and Pindarus is come
    To do you salutation from his master.
    He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus,
    In his own change or by ill officers,
    Hath given me some worthy cause to wish
    Things done, undone; but if he be at hand
    I shall be satisfied.
    I do not doubt
    But that my noble master will appear
    Such as he is, full of regard and honor.
    He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius,
    How he received you. Let me be resolved.
    With courtesy and with respect enough,
    But not with such familiar instances,
    Nor with such free and friendly conference
    As he hath used of old.
    Thou hast described
    1930A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius,
    When love begins to sicken and decay,
    It useth an enforcèd ceremony.
    There are no tricks in plain and simple faith,
    But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
    1935Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;
    Low march within.
    But when they should endure the bloody spur,
    They fall their crests, and like deceitful jades
    Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?
    They mean this night in Sardis to be quartered.
    The greater part, the horse in general,
    Are come with Cassius.
    Enter Cassius and his powers.
    Hark! he is arrived.
    1945March gently on to meet him.
    Stand, ho!
    Stand, ho! Speak the word along!
    1 Soldier
    2 Soldier
    19503 Soldier
    Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
    Judge me, you gods! Wrong I mine enemies?
    And if not so, how should I wrong a brother?
    Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs,
    1955And when you do them--
    Cassius, be content.
    Speak your griefs softly. I do know you well.
    Before the eyes of both our armies here,
    Which should perceive nothing but love from us,
    1960Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away;
    Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs,
    And I will give you audience.
    Bid our commanders lead their charges off
    1965A little from this ground.
    Lucilius, do you the like, and let no man
    Come to our tent, till we have done our conference.
    Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.
    Exeunt [all but] Brutus and Cassius.