The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

And sure he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause;
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason!-Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Cesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

Cit. Methinks, there is much reason in his
sayings.

Cit. If thou consider rightly of the matter, Cesar has had great wrong.

3 Cit. Has he, masters?

I fear there will a worse come in his place. 4 Cit. Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown; Therefore, 'tis certain he was not ambitious. 1 Cit. If it be found so, some will dear abide it. 2 Cit. Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.

3 Cit. There's not a nobler man in Rome, than Antony.

4 Cit. Now mark him, he begins again to speak. Ant. But yesterday, the word of Cesar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. O masters! if I were dispos'd to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, Who, you all know, are honourable men: I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you, Than I will wrong such honourable men. But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cesar; I found it in his closset; 'tis his will: Let but the commons bear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,) And they would go and kiss dead Cesar's And dip their napkins in his sacred blood, Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue.

4 Cit. We'll hear the will: Read it, Mark Antony.

Cit. The will! the will! we will hear Cesar's will.

Ant. Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;

It is not meet you know how Cesar lov'd you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
And, being men, hearing the will of Cesar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad:
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ;
For, if you should, oh! what would come of it?
4 Cit. Read the will: we will hear it, Antony;
You shall read us the will; Cesar's will.

Ant. Will you be patient? Will you stay a
I have o'ershot + myself to tell you of it. [while?
I fear I wrong the honourable men,
Whose daggers have stabb'd Cesar: I do fear it.
Cit. They were traitors: Honourable men!
Cit. The will! the testament !

2 Cit. They were villains, murderers: The will read the will!

3 Cit. O woeful day!

4 Cit. O traitors, villains!

1 Cit. O most bloody sight!

2 Cit. We will be revenged: revenge; about, wounds.—seek,-burn,-fire,-kill,-slay !—let not a trai

Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed thein

now.

You all do know this mantle : I remember
The first time ever Cesar put it on:
'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii :-
Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through:
See, what a rent the envious Casca made:
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd,
And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cesar follow'd it;
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd or no;
(For Brutus, as you know, was Cesar's angel)
Judge, O you gods, how dearly Cesar lov'd him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all:
For, when the noble Cesar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms,
Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty
heart;

4 Cit. A ring; stand round.

1 Cit. Stand from the herse, stand from the body.

2 Cit. Room for Antony ;-most noble Antony. Ant. Nay, press not so upon me; stand far

off.

Cit. Stand back! room! bear back!

All are too proud to shew him any respect. Said more than I intended.

And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statua *
Which all the while ran blood, † great Cesar fell.
Oh! what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
Oh! now you weep and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity: these are gracious drops.
Kind souls, what, wee you, when you but beha'd
Our Cesar's vesture wounded? Look you here,
Here is himself, marr'd as you see, with trai-

tors.

1 Cit. O piteous spectacle !

2 Cit. O noble Cesar!

tor live.

Ant. Stay, countrymen.

1 Cit. Peace there :-Hear the noble Antony. 2 Cit. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.

Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honourable; What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, That made them do it: they are wise and honourable,

And will no doubt, with reasons answer you,
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts;
I am no orator, as Brutus is:
But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That love my friend: and that they know full

well

That gave me public leave to speak of him.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood: I only speak right on;
I tell you that, which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Cesar's wounds, poor, poor
dumb mouths,

And bid them speak for me: But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Cesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Cit. We'll mutiny.

1 Cit. We'll burn the house of Brutus.
3 Cit. Away then, come, seek the conspirators.
Ant. Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me
speak.

Cit. Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony.

Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not

what:

Wherein hath Cesar thus deserv'd your loves! Alas, you know not :-I must tell you then :You have forgot the will I told you of.

• Statua for statue, is common among the old writers. + Cesar's blood fell upon the statue, and trickled from it. + Wrongs.

Cit. Most true;-the will;-let's stay, and
hear the will.

Ant. Here is the will, and under Cesar's seal.
To every Roman citizen he gives,

To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.⚫

2 Cit. Most noble Cesar!-we'll revenge his
death.

3 Cit. O royal Cesar!

Ant. Hear me with patience.

ACT IV.

Cit. Peace, ho!

Ant. Moreover, be hath left you all his walks, SCENE I.-The same.-A room in ANTONY'S His private arbours, and new-planted orchards,

House.

On this side Tyber; he hath left them you,

And to your heirs for ever; common pleasures, † ANTONY, OCTAVIUS, and LEPIDUS, seated at o To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.

Table.

Here was a Cesar: When comes such another?

Ant. These many then shall die; their names
are prick'd.

Oct. Your brother too must die; Consent you,
Lepidus ?

Lep. I do consent.

Oct. Prick him down, Antony.

Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.
Lep. Upon condition Publius shall not live,

Ant. He shall not live; look, with a spot I
damn + him.

But, Lepidus, go you to Cesar's house;
Fetch the will hither, and we will determine
How to cut off some charge in legacies.
Lep. What, shall I find you here?
Oct. Or here, or at

The Capitol.

[Exit LEPIDUs.
Ant. This is a slight unmeritable man,
Meet to be sent on errands: Is it fit,
The three-fold world divided, he should stand
One of the three to share it ?

Oct. So you thought him;

And took his voice who should be prick'd to die,
In our black sentence and proscription.

Ant. Octavius, I have seen more days than you;
And though we lay these honours on this man;
To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads,
He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold;
To groan and sweat under the business,
Either led or driven, as we point the way;

SCENE III.-The same.-A street.

Enter CINNA, the Poet.

Cin. I dreamt to night, that I did feast with And, having brought our treasure where we will

Cesar,

Then take we down his load, and turn him off,
Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears,
And graze in commons.

Oct. You may do your will;

But he's a tried and valiant soldier.

1 Cit. Never, never :-Come, away, away:
We'll burn his body in the holy place,
And with the brands fire the traitor's houses.
Take up the body.

2 Cit. Go, fetch fire.

3 Cit. Pluck down benches.

4 Cit. Pluck down forms, windows, any thing. [Exeunt CITIZENS, with the Body. Ant. Now let it work: Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thon what course thou wilt!-How now,

fellow ?

Enter a SERVANT.

Serv. Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
Ant. Where is he?

Serv. He and Lepidus are at Cesar's house.
Ant. And thither will I straight to visit him:
He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,
And in this mood will give us any thing.

Serv. 1 heard him say, Brutus and Cassins
Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
Ant. Belike, they had some notice of the
people,

How I had mov'd them. Bring me to Octavius. [Exeunt.

And things unluckily charge my fantasy:

I have no will to wander forth of doors,
Yet something leads me forth.

Enter CITIZENS.

4 Cit. Ay, and wisely.

3 Cit. Ay, and truly, you were best. Cia. What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I a married man, or a bachelor? Then to answer every mau directly, and briefly, wisely, and truly. Wisely I say. I

am a bachelor.

Cit. That's as much as to say, they are fools that marry-You'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed; directly.

Cin. Directly, I am going to Cesar's funeral.
1 Cit. As a friend, or an enemy?
Cin. As a friend.

2 Cit. That matter is answered directly.

4 Cit. For your dwelling,-briefly. Cin. Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.

3 Cit. Your name, Sir, truly. Cin. Truly, my name is Cinna.

1 Cit. Tear him to pieces, he's a conspirator. Cin. I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.

4 Cit. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses.

2 Cit. It is no matter, his name's Cinna;

A drachma is 7d. sterling-21. 3r. 4d. grounde

pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going.

3 Cit. Tear him, tear him. Come, brands, ho! fire-brands. To Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all. Some to Decius' house, and some to Casca's; some to Ligarius': away; go. [Exeunt.

+ Pleasure. t His coming is the very thing I wished for. My mind is oppressed with ill-omens.,

Ant. So is my horse, Octavius; and, for that,
I do appoint him store of provender.
It is a creature that I teach to fight,
To wind, to stop, to run directly on;
His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit.
And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so;
He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth;
A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds
On objects, arts, and imitations;
Which, out of use, and stal'd by other men,
Begin his fashion: Do not talk of him,
But as a property. And now, Octavius,
Listen great things.-Brutus and Cassius,
Are levying powers: we must straight inake head;
Therefore, let our alliance be combin'd,
Our best friends made, and our best means
stretch'd out;

And let us presently go sit in council,
How covert matters may be best disclos'd,
And open perils surest answered.

Oct. Let us do so: for we are at the stake,
And bay'd about with many enemies;
And some, that smile, have in their hearts, I fear
Millions of mischief.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II-Before BRUTUS' Tent, in the
Camp near Sardis.

Drum.-Enter BRUTUS, LUCILIUS, LUCIUS,
and Soldiers : TITINIUS and PINDARUS
meeting them.
Bru. Stand here.

• Note.

SA a thing at our disposal. § Surrounded.

+ Condemn.

Luc. Give the word, ho! and stand. Bru. What now, Lucilius? is Cassius near? Luc. He is at hand; and Pindarus is come To do you salutation from his master.

[PINDARUS gives a letter to BRUTUS. Bru. He greets me well.-Your master, PinIn his own change, or by ill officers, darus, Hath given me some worthy cause to wish Things done, undone: but, if he be at hand, I shall be satisfied.

Pin. I do not doubt

But that my noble master will appear
Such as he is, full of regard, and honour.

Bru. He is not doubted.-A word, Lucilius: How he received you, let me be resolv❜d. •

Luc. 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.

wrong.

Bru. Judge me, you gods! Wrong 1 mine

enemies?

And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?
Cas. Brutus, this sober form of yours hides
And when you do them-
[wrongs;

Bru. Cassius, be content,
Speak your griefs softly,-1 do know you well :--
Before the eyes of both our armies here,
Which should perceive nothing but love from us,
Let us not wrangle: Bid them move away;
Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs,
And I will give you audience.

Cas. Pindarus,

Bid our commanders lead their charges off
A little from this ground.

Bru. Lucilius, do the like; and let no man Come to our tent till we have done our confer

ence.

Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.

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Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm
To sell and mart your offices for gold,
To undeservers.

Cas. I an itching palm?

You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption,

And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. Cas. Chastisement !

Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember!

Complaints. Small.

Bru. I say, you are not.

Cas. Urge ine no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no fur

ther.

Bru. Away, slight man!

Cas. Is't possible?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Must give way and room to your rash choler Shall I be frighted, when a madman stares? Cas. O gods! ye gods! Must I endure all this?

Bru. All this! ay, more: Fret till your proud heart break;

Go, show your slaves how choleric you are,
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge
Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humour? By the gods,
You shail digest the venom of your spleen,
Though it do split you: for from this day forth,
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter
When you are waspish.

Cas. Is it come to this?

Bru. You say, you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well: For mine own part I shall be glad to learn of nobler men.

Cas. You wrong me every way, you wrong me,
Brutus ;

I said an elder soldier not a better:
Did I say, better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

Cas. When Cesar liv'd be durst not thus have mov'd me.

Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him.

Cas. I durst not?

Bru. No.

Cas. What? durst not tempt him?
Bru. For your life you durst not.

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love, I may do that I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for.

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats:
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not. I did send to you
For certain sums of gold, which you denied me ;-
For I can raise no money by vile means;
By heaven I had rather coin my heart,
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring

By any indirection. I did send
To you for gold to pay my legions,

• Bark at.

To confer the offices at my disposal.

Bra. I do not like your faults.

Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults,

Bru. A flatterer's would not though they do appear

As huge as high Olympus.

Cus. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius ! For Cassius is aweary of the world: Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother; Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observ❜d, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote, To cast into my teeth. Oh! I could weep My spirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Platus' mine, richer than gold: If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike, as thou didst at Cesar; for 1 know, When thou didst hate him worse, thou lovd'st him better.

Than ever thou lov'st Cassius.

Bru. Sheath your dagger:

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb
That carries anger, as the flint bears fire;
Which, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Cas. Hath Cassins liv'd

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper❜d

too.

Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your band.

Bru. And my heart too.

Cas. O Brutus !

Bru. What's the matter?

Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with

me,

[me,

When that rash humour which my mother gave Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Cassius! and, henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. [Noise within. Poet. Within.] Let me go in to see the generals; There is some grudge between them, 'tis not meet They be alone.

Luc. [Within.] You shall not come to them. Poet. [Within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs. Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears sorrow better:-Portia is dead.

[Drinks. Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge :

Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup;
I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love.

[Drinks.

Bru. With what addition?

Mess. That by proscription, and bills of out-
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,
Have put to death a hundred senators.
[lawry,

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;
Mine speak of seventy senators, that died
By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.
Cas. Cicero one?

Mess. Ay, Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription,——

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
Bru. No, Messala.

Mes. Nor nothing in your letters writ of
her?

Bru. Nothing, Messala.

Mess. That, methinks, is strange.
Bru. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her
in yours?
Mess. No, my lord.

• Jig, signified a metrical composition,

A term of reproach.”

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.) Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell : For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. Bru. Why, farewell, Portia.-We must die, Messala:

With meditating that she must die once,
I have the patience to endure it now.

Mes. Even so great men great losses should
endure.

Cas. I have as much of this in art + as you,
But yet my nature could not bear it so.
Bru. Well, to our work alive.

What do you

think

Of marching to Philippi presently?
Cas. I do not think it good.

Bru. Your reason?

Cas. This it is:

'Tis better that the enemy seek us:
So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,
Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.

Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place
to better.

The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground,
Do stand but in a forc'd affection;
For they have grudg'd us contribution;
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them shall make a fuller number up,
Come on refresh'd, new-added, and encourag'd:
From which advantage shall we cut him off,
If at Philippi we do face him there,
These people at our back.

Cas. Hear me, good brother.

Bru. Under your pardon-You must note be-
side,

That we have tried the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe :
The enemy increaseth every day,
We, at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows, and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.

night;

I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.
If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument;
I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good

night.

Let me see, let me see ;-Is not the leaf turn'd
down,

Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
[He sits down,
Enter the GHOST of CESAR.
How ill this taper burns!-Ha! who coines
here?

Cas. Then, with your will, go on ;
We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Phi-I think, it is the weakness of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition,
lippi.
It comes upon me :-Art thou any thing?
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to stare ?
Speak to me, what thou art.

Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk.
And nature must obey necessity;
Which we will niggard with a little rest.
There is no more to say?

Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

Bru. I pray you, Sirs, lie in my tent,
sleep;

and

It may be I shall raise you by and by
On business to my brother Cassius.

Var. So please you, we will stand, and watch
your pleasure.

Bru. I will not have it? so; lie down, good
Sirs;

It may be, I shall otherwise bethink me.
Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so:
I put it in the pocket of my gown.

[SERVANTS lie down. give Luc. 1 was sure your lordship did not

it me.

Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much
forgetful.

Canst thon hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
Luc. Ay, my lord, an it please you.
Bru. It does, my boy:

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing
Luc. It is my duty, Sir.

Bru. I should not urge thy duty past thy
might;

I know, young bloods look for a time of rest.
Luc. I have slept, my lord, already.

Bru. It is well done; and thou shalt sleep
again;

Cas. No more. Good night;

Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.

Bru. Lucius, my gown. [Exit Lucius.] Fare-
well, good Messala;-

Good night, Titinius :-Noble, noble Cassius,
Good night, and good repose.

Cus. O my dear brother!

[Exeunt CAS. TIT. and MES.

Call Claudius, and some other of my men ;
I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
Luc. Varro, and Claudius!

Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS.

I will not hold thee long: if I do live,
I will be good to thee.

Re-enter LUCIUS with the Gown.

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
Luc. Here in the tent.

Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily?

Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'erwatch'd.

Var. Calls my lord ?

[Music, and a Song.
This is a sleepy tune :-O murd'rous slumber!
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,
That plays thee music ?-Gentle knave, good

Bru. Why com'st thou ?

Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt see me at

Philippi.
Bru. Well;

Then I shall see thee again?
Ghost. Ay, at Philippi.

[GHOST vanishes. thee at Philippi

Bru. Why, I will see
then.-
Now I have taken heart thou vanishest :
Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.-
Boy! Lucius!-Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake !—
Claudius!

Luc. The strings, my lord, are false.
Bru. He thinks he still is at his instrument.-
Lucius, awake.

Luc. My lord!

Bru. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so cry'dst out?

Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. Bru. Yes, that thou didst: Didst thou see any thing?

Luc. Nothing, my lord.

Bru. Sleep again, Lucius.-Sirrab, Claudios! Fellow thou! awake.

Var. My lord.

Clau. My lord.

Bru. Why did you so cry out, Sirs, in your

sleep?

• Sceptre.

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: With Glossarial Notes, a Sketch of ...