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)

    Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.
    Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
    Statilius showed the torchlight, but, my lord,
    He came not back. He is or ta'en or slain.
    Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word;
    2645It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.
    What I, my Lord? No, not for all the world!
    Peace then, no words.
    I'll rather kill myself.
    Hark thee, Dardanius.
    Shall I do such a deed?
    O Dardanius!
    O Clitus!
    What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
    To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
    Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
    That it runs over even at his eyes.
    Come hither, good Volumnius. List a word.
    What says my lord?
    Why this, Volumnius.
    2660The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me
    Two several times by night: at Sardis once,
    And this last night here in Philippi fields.
    I know my hour is come.
    Not so, my lord.
    Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.
    Thou see'st the World, Volumnius, how it goes.
    Our enemies have beat us to the pit.
    Low alarums.
    It is more worthy to leap in ourselves
    Then tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,
    2670Thou know'st that we two went to school together.
    Even for that, our love of old, I prithee,
    Hold thou my sword hilts whilst I run on it.
    That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
    Alarum still.
    Fly! Fly, my Lord! There is no tarrying here!
    Farewell to you, and you, and you, Volumnius.
    Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep.
    Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,
    My heart doth joy that yet in all my life
    2680I found no man but he was true to me.
    I shall have glory by this losing day
    More then Octavius and Mark Antony
    By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
    So fare you well at once, for Brutus' tongue
    2685Hath almost ended his life's history.
    Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
    That have but laboured to attain this hour.
    Alarum. Cry within, "Fly! Fly! Fly!"
    Fly, my Lord! Fly!.
    Hence, I will follow.
    [Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.]
    I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord.
    Thou art a fellow of a good respect;
    Thy life hath had some smatch of honor in it.
    Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
    2695While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
    Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.
    Farewell, good Strato.
    [Runs on his sword.]
    --Caesar, now be still.
    I killed not thee with half so good a will.
    Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala, 2700Lucilius, and the army.
    What man is that?
    My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?
    Free from the bondage you are in, Messala.
    The conquerors can but make a fire of him,
    2705For Brutus only overcame himself,
    And no man else hath honor by his death.
    So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,
    That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true.
    All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.
    2710Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
    Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
    Do so, good Messala.
    How died my master, Strato?
    I held the sword, and he did run on it.
    Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
    That did the latest service to my master.
    This was the noblest Roman of them all.
    All the conspirators save only he
    Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
    2720He only in a general honest thought
    And common good to all made one of them.
    His life was gentle, and the elements
    So mixed in him that nature might stand up,
    And say to all the world, "This was a man!"
    According to his virtue, let us use him,
    With all respect and rites of burial.
    Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie,
    Most like a soldier, ordered honorably:
    So call the field to rest, and let's away,
    2730To part the glories of this happy day.
    Exeunt omnes.