Julius Caesar

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A public place.




Flourish. Enter Caesar; Antony, for the course; Calpurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer.


Caesar
Calpurnia!


Casca
Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.


Caesar
Calpurnia!


Calpurnia
Here, my lord.


Caesar

Stand you directly in Antonius’ way,

When he doth run his course. Antonius!



Antony
Caesar, my lord?


Caesar

Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,

To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say,

The barren, touched in this holy chase,

Shake off their sterile curse.



Antony

I shall remember:

When Caesar says “do this,” it is perform’d.



Caesar
Set on; and leave no ceremony out. Flourish.


Soothsayer
Caesar!


Caesar
Ha! who calls?


Casca
Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!


Caesar

Who is it in the press that calls on me?

I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

Cry “Caesar!” Speak; Caesar is turn’d to hear.



Soothsayer
Beware the ides of March.


Caesar
What man is that?


Brutus
A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.


Caesar
Set him before me; let me see his face.


Cassius
Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.


Caesar
What say’st thou to me now? speak once again.


Soothsayer
Beware the ides of March.


Caesar
He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. Sennet. Exeunt all except Brutus and Cassius.


Cassius
Will you go see the order of the course?


Brutus
Not I.


Cassius
I pray you, do.


Brutus

I am not gamesome: I do lack some part

Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;

I’ll leave you.



Cassius

Brutus, I do observe you now of late:

I have not from your eyes that gentleness

And show of love as I was wont to have:

You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand

Over your friend that loves you.



Brutus

Cassius,

Be not deceived: if I have veil’d my look,

I turn the trouble of my countenance

Merely upon myself. Vexed I am

Of late with passions of some difference,

Conceptions only proper to myself,

Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors;

But let not therefore my good friends be grieved⁠—

Among which number, Cassius, be you one⁠—

Nor construe any further my neglect,

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,

Forgets the shows of love to other men.



Cassius

Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;

By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?



Brutus

No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself,

But by reflection, by some other things.



Cassius

’Tis just:

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,

That you have no such mirrors as will turn

Your hidden worthiness into your eye,

That you might see your shadow. I have heard,

Where many of the best respect in Rome,

Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus

And groaning underneath this age’s yoke,

Have wish’d that noble Brutus had his eyes.



Brutus

Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,

That you would have me seek into myself

For that which is not in me?



Cassius

Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear:

And since you know you cannot see yourself

So well as by reflection, I, your glass,

Will modestly discover to yourself

That of yourself which you yet know not of.

And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:

Were I a common laugher, or did use

To stale with ordinary oaths my love

To every new protester; if you know

That I do fawn on men and hug them hard

And after scandal them, or if you know

That I profess myself in banqueting

To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. Flourish, and shout.



Brutus

What means this shouting? I do fear, the people

Choose Caesar for their king.



Cassius

Ay, do you fear it?

Then must I think you would not have it so.



Brutus

I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.

But wherefore do you hold me here so long?

What is it that you would impart to me?

If it be aught toward the general good,

Set honour in one eye and death i’ the other,

And I will look on both indifferently,

For let the gods so speed me as I love

The name of honour more than I fear death.



Cassius

I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,

As well as I do know your outward favour.

Well, honour is the subject of my story.

I cannot tell what you and other men

Think of this life; but, for my single self,

I had as lief not be as live to be

In awe of such a thing as I myself.

I was born free as Caesar; so were you:

We both have fed as well, and we can both

Endure the winter’s cold as well as he:

For once, upon a raw and gusty day,

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,

Caesar said to me “Darest thou, Cassius, now

Leap in with me into this angry flood,

And swim to yonder point?” Upon the word,

Accoutred as I was, I plunged in

And bade him follow; so indeed he did.

The torrent roar’d, and we did buffet it

With lusty sinews, throwing it aside

And stemming it with hearts of controversy;

But ere we could arrive the point proposed,

Caesar cried “Help me, Cassius, or I sink!”

I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor,

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder

The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber

Did I the tired Caesar. And this man

Is now become a god, and Cassius is

A wretched creature and must bend his body,

If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.

He had a fever when he was in Spain,

And when the fit was on him, I did mark

How he did shake: ’tis true, this god did shake:

His coward lips did from their colour fly,

And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world

Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan:

Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans

Mark him and write his speeches in their books,

Alas, it cried “Give me some drink, Titinius,”

As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me

A man of such a feeble temper should

So get the start of the majestic world

And bear the palm alone. Shout. Flourish.



Brutus

Another general shout!

I do believe that these applauses are

For some new honours that are heap’d on Caesar.



Cassius

Why, man,