Table of Contents
ACT II SCENE I Setting: Rome. BRUTUS's orchard.
Enter BRUTUS.
BRUTUS | What, Lucius, ho! | |
I cannot, by the progress of the stars, | ||
Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say! | ||
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. | ||
When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius! | 5 | |
Enter LUCIUS. | ||
LUCIUS | Call'd you, my lord? | |
BRUTUS | Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: | |
When it is lighted, come and call me here. | ||
LUCIUS | I will, my lord. | |
Exit | ||
BRUTUS | It must be by his death: and for my part, | 10 |
I know no personal cause to spurn at him, | ||
But for the general. He would be crown'd: | ||
How that might change his nature, there's the question. | ||
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; | ||
And that craves wary walking. Crown him?––that;–– | 15 | |
And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, | ||
That at his will he may do danger with. | ||
The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins | ||
Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar, | ||
I have not known when his affections sway'd | 20 | |
More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, | ||
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, | ||
Whereto the climber–upward turns his face; | ||
But when he once attains the upmost round. | ||
He then unto the ladder turns his back, | 25 | |
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees | ||
By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. | ||
Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel | ||
Will bear no colour for the thing he is, | ||
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, | 30 | |
Would run to these and these extremities: | ||
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg | ||
Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, | ||
And kill him in the shell. | ||
Re–enter LUCIUS. | ||
LUCIUS | The taper burneth in your closet, sir. | 35 |
Searching the window for a flint, I found | ||
This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, | ||
It did not lie there when I went to bed. | ||
Gives him the letter. | ||
BRUTUS | Get you to bed again; it is not day. | |
Is not to–morrow, boy, the ides of March? | 40 | |
LUCIUS | I know not, sir. | |
BRUTUS | Look in the calendar, and bring me word. | |
LUCIUS | I will, sir. | |
Exit | ||
BRUTUS | The exhalations whizzing in the air | |
Give so much light that I may read by them. | 45 | |
Opens the letter and reads | ||
Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself. | ||
Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress! | ||
Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!' | ||
Such instigations have been often dropp'd | ||
Where I have took them up. | 50 | |
Shall Rome, &c.' Thus must I piece it out: | ||
Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome? | ||
My ancestors did from the streets of Rome | ||
The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. | ||
Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated | 55 | |
To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise: | ||
If the redress will follow, thou receivest | ||
Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! | ||
Re–enter LUCIUS. | ||
LUCIUS | Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. | |
Knocking within | ||
BRUTUS | Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. | |
Exit LUCIUS. | ||
Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, | 61 | |
I have not slept. | ||
Between the acting of a dreadful thing | ||
And the first motion, all the interim is | ||
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: | 65 | |
The Genius and the mortal instruments | ||
Are then in council; and the state of man, | ||
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then | ||
The nature of an insurrection. | ||
Re–enter LUCIUS. | ||
LUCIUS | Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, | 70 |
Who doth desire to see you. | ||
BRUTUS | Is he alone? | |
LUCIUS | No, sir, there are moe with him. | |
BRUTUS | Do you know them? | |
LUCIUS | No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, | |
And half their faces buried in their cloaks, | ||
That by no means I may discover them | 75 | |
By any mark of favour. | ||
BRUTUS | Let 'em enter. | |
Exit LUCIUS. | ||
They are the faction. O conspiracy, | ||
Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, | ||
When evils are most free? O, then by day | ||
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough | 80 | |
To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; | ||
Hide it in smiles and affability: | ||
For if thou path, thy native semblance on, | ||
Not Erebus itself were dim enough | ||
To hide thee from prevention. | 85 |
Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS
CASSIUS | I think we are too bold upon your rest: | |
Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you? | ||
BRUTUS | I have been up this hour, awake all night. | |
Know I these men that come along with you? | ||
CASSIUS | Yes, every man of them, and no man here | 90 |
But honours you; and every one doth wish | ||
You had but that opinion of yourself | ||
Which every noble Roman bears of you. | ||
This is Trebonius. | ||
BRUTUS | He is welcome hither. | |
CASSIUS | This, Decius Brutus. | |
BRUTUS | He is welcome too. | |
CASSIUS | This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. | |
BRUTUS | They are all welcome. | |
What watchful cares do interpose themselves | ||
Betwixt your eyes and night? | 99 | |
CASSIUS | Shall I entreat a word? | |
BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper. | ||
DECIUS BRUTUS | Here lies the east: doth not the day break here? | |
CASCA | No. | |
CINNA | O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines | |
That fret the clouds are messengers of day. | ||
CASCA | You shall confess that you are both deceived. | 105 |
Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, | ||
Which is a great way growing on the south, | ||
Weighing the youthful season of the year. | ||
Some two months hence up higher toward the north | ||
He first presents his fire; and the high east | 110 | |
Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. | ||
BRUTUS | Give me your hands all over, one by one. | |
CASSIUS | And let us swear our resolution. | |
BRUTUS | No, not an oath: if not the face of men, | |
The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,–– | 115 | |
If these be motives weak, break off betimes, | ||
And every man hence to his idle bed; | ||
So let high–sighted tyranny range on, | ||
Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, | ||
As I am sure they do, bear fire enough | 120 | |
To kindle cowards and to steel with valour | ||
The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, | ||
What need we any spur but our own cause, | ||
To prick us to redress? what other bond | ||
Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, | 125 | |
And will not palter? and what other oath | ||
Than honesty to honesty engaged, | ||
That this shall be, or we will fall for it? | ||
Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, | ||
Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls | 130 | |
That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear | ||
Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain | ||
The even virtue of our enterprise, | ||
Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits, | ||
To think that or our cause or our performance | 135 | |
Did need an oath; when every drop of blood | ||
That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, | ||
Is guilty of a several bastardy, | ||
If he do break the smallest particle | ||
Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. | 140 | |
CASSIUS | But what of Cicero? shall we sound him? | |
I think he will stand very strong with us. | ||
CASCA | Let us not leave him out. | |
CINNA | No, by no means. | |
METELLUS CIMBER | O, let us have him, for his silver hairs | |
Will purchase us a good opinion | 145 | |
And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: | ||
It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands; | ||
Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, | ||
But all be buried in his gravity. | ||
BRUTUS | O, name him not: let us not break with him; | |
For he will never follow any thing | 151 | |
That other men begin. | ||
CASSIUS | Then leave him out. | |
CASCA | Indeed he is not fit. | |
DECIUS BRUTUS | Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar? | |
CASSIUS | Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet, | |
Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, | ||
Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him | ||
A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, | ||
If he improve them, may well stretch so far | ||
As to annoy us all: which to prevent, | 160 | |
Let Antony and Caesar fall together. | ||
BRUTUS | Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, | |
To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, | ||
Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; | ||
For Antony is but a limb of Caesar: | ||
Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. | ||
We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar; | ||
And in the spirit of men there is no blood: | ||
O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, | ||
And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, | 170 | |
Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, | ||
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; | ||
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, | ||
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds: | ||
And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, | 175 | |
Stir up their servants to an act of rage, | ||
And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make | ||
Our purpose necessary and not envious: | ||
Which so appearing to the common eyes, | ||
We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers. | 180 | |
And for Mark Antony, think not of him; | ||
For he can do no more than Caesar's arm | ||
When Caesar's head is off. | ||
CASSIUS | Yet I fear him; | |
For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar–– | ||
BRUTUS | Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: | 185 |
If he love Caesar, all that he can do | ||
Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar: | ||
And that were much he should; for he is given | ||
To sports, to wildness and much company. | ||
TREBONIUS | There is no fear in him; let him not die; | 190 |
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. | ||
Clock strikes. | ||
BRUTUS | Peace! count the clock. | |
CASSIUS | The clock hath stricken three. | |
TREBONIUS | Tis time to part. | |
CASSIUS | But it is doubtful yet, | |
Whether Caesar will come forth to–day, or no; | ||
For he is superstitious grown of late, | 195 | |
Quite from the main opinion he held once | ||
Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies: | ||
It may be, these apparent prodigies, | ||
The unaccustom'd terror of this night, | ||
And the persuasion of his augurers, | 200 | |
May hold him from the Capitol to–day. | ||
DECIUS BRUTUS | Never fear that: if he be so resolved, | |
I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear | ||
That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, | ||
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, | 205 | |
Lions with toils and men with flatterers; | ||
But when I tell him he hates flatterers, | ||
He says he does, being then most flattered. | ||
Let me work; | ||
For I can give his humour the true bent, | 210 | |
And I will bring him to the Capitol. | ||
CASSIUS | Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. | |
BRUTUS | By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost? | |
CINNA | Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. | |
METELLUS CIMBER | Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, | 215 |
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey: | ||
I wonder none of you have thought of him. | ||
BRUTUS | Now, good Metellus, go along by him: | |
He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; | ||
Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. | 220 | |
CASSIUS | The morning comes upon's: we'll leave you, Brutus. | |
And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember | ||
What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. | ||
BRUTUS | Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; | |
Let not our looks put on our purposes, | 225 | |
But bear it as our Roman actors do, | ||
With untired spirits and formal constancy: | ||
And so good morrow to you every one. | ||
Exeunt all but BRUTUS. | ||
Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; | ||
Enjoy the honey–heavy dew of slumber: | 230 | |
Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, | ||
Which busy care draws in the brains of men; | ||
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. | ||
Enter PORTIA. | ||
PORTIA | Brutus, my lord! | |
BRUTUS | Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now? | |
It is not for your health thus to commit | 235 | |
Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. | ||
PORTIA | Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, | |
Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper, | ||
You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, | ||
Musing and sighing, with your arms across, | 240 | |
And when I ask'd you what the matter was, | ||
You stared upon me with ungentle looks; | ||
I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, | ||
And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot; | ||
Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, | 245 | |
But, with an angry wafture of your hand, | ||
Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did; | ||
Fearing to strengthen that impatience | ||
Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal | ||
Hoping it was but an effect of humour, | 250 | |
Which sometime hath his hour with every man. | ||
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, | ||
And could it work so much upon your shape | ||
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, | ||
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, | 255 | |
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. | ||
BRUTUS | I am not well in health, and that is all. | |
PORTIA | Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, | |
He would embrace the means to come by it. | ||
BRUTUS | Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. | 260 |
PORTIA | Is Brutus sick? and is it physical | |
To walk unbraced and suck up the humours | ||
Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, | ||
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, | ||
To dare the vile contagion of the night | 265 | |
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air | ||
To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; | ||
You have some sick offence within your mind, | ||
Which, by the right and virtue of my place, | ||
I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, | 270 | |
I charm you, by my once–commended beauty, | ||
By all your vows of love and that great vow | ||
Which did incorporate and make us one, | ||
That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, | ||
Why you are heavy, and what men to–night | 275 | |
Have had to resort to you: for here have been | ||
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces | ||
Even from darkness. | ||
BRUTUS | Kneel not, gentle Portia. | |
PORTIA | I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. | |
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, | 280 | |
Is it excepted I should know no secrets | ||
That appertain to you? Am I yourself | ||
But, as it were, in sort or limitation, | ||
To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, | ||
And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs | 285 | |
Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, | ||
Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. | ||
BRUTUS | You are my true and honourable wife, | |
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops | ||
That visit my sad heart | 290 | |
PORTIA | If this were true, then should I know this secret. | |
I grant I am a woman; but withal | ||
A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: | ||
I grant I am a woman; but withal | ||
A woman well–reputed, Cato's daughter. | 295 | |
Think you I am no stronger than my sex, | ||
Being so father'd and so husbanded? | ||
Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: | ||
I have made strong proof of my constancy, | ||
Giving myself a voluntary wound | 300 | |
Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. | ||
And not my husband's secrets? | ||
BRUTUS | O ye gods, | |
Render me worthy of this noble wife! | ||
Knocking within. | ||
Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile; | ||
And by and by thy bosom shall partake | 305 | |
The secrets of my heart. | ||
All my engagements I will construe to thee, | ||
All the charactery of my sad brows: | ||
Leave me with haste. | ||
Exit PORTIA. | ||
Lucius, who's that knocks? | 309 | |
Re–enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS. | ||
LUCIUS | He is a sick man that would speak with you. | |
BRUTUS | Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. | |
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how? | ||
LIGARIUS | Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. | |
BRUTUS | O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, | |
To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick! | ||
LIGARIUS | I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand | |
Any exploit worthy the name of honour. | ||
BRUTUS | Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, | |
Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. | ||
LIGARIUS | By all the gods that Romans bow before, | 320 |
I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome! | ||
Brave son, derived from honourable loins! | ||
Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up | ||
My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, | ||
And I will strive with things impossible; | ||
Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? | ||
BRUTUS | A piece of work that will make sick men whole. | |
LIGARIUS | But are not some whole that we must make sick? | |
BRUTUS | That must we also. What it is, my Caius, | |
I shall unfold to thee, as we are going | 330 | |
To whom it must be done. | ||
LIGARIUS | Set on your foot, | |
And with a heart new–fired I follow you, | ||
To do I know not what: but it sufficeth | ||
That Brutus leads me on. | 335 | |
BRUTUS | Follow me, then. | |
Exeunt |