Julius Caesar, by William Shakespeare

Act IV

Scene I. A house in Rome.

Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus, seated at a table

Antony

These many, then, shall die; their names are prick’d.

Octavius

Your brother too must die; consent you, Lepidus?

Lepidus

I do consent —

Octavius

  Prick him down, Antony.

Lepidus

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

Antony

He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him.
But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar’s house;
Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine
How to cut off some charge in legacies.

Lepidus

What, shall I find you here?

Octavius

Or here, or at the Capitol.

Exit Lepidus

Antony

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?

Octavius

So you thought him;
And took his voice who should be prick’d to die,
In our black sentence and proscription.

Antony

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;
And having brought our treasure where we will,
Then take we down his load, and turn him off,
Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears,
And graze in commons.

Octavius

You may do your will;
But he’s a tried and valiant soldier.

Antony

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 abjects, orts and imitations,
Which, out of use and staled 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 make head:
Therefore let our alliance be combined,
Our best friends made, our means stretch’d
And let us presently go sit in council,
How covert matters may be best disclosed,
And open perils surest answered.

Octavius

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 mischiefs.

Exeunt

Scene II. Camp near Sardis. Before Brutus’s tent.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucilius, Lucius, and Soldiers; Titinius and Pindarus meeting them

Brutus

Stand, ho!

Lucilius

Give the word, ho! and stand.

Brutus

What now, Lucilius! is Cassius near?

Lucilius

He is at hand; and Pindarus is come
To do you salutation from his master.

Brutus

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.

Pindarus

I do not doubt
But that my noble master will appear
Such as he is, full of regard and honour.

Brutus

He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius;
How he received you, let me be resolved.

Lucilius

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.

Brutus

Thou hast described
A hot friend cooling: ever note, Lucilius,
When love begins to sicken and decay,
It useth an enforced ceremony.
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;
But when they should endure the bloody spur,
They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades,
Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?

Lucilius

They mean this night in Sardis to be quarter’d;
The greater part, the horse in general,
Are come with Cassius.

Brutus

Hark! he is arrived.

Low march within

March gently on to meet him.

Enter Cassius and his powers

Cassius

Stand, ho!

Brutus

Stand, ho! Speak the word along.

First Soldier

Stand!

Second Soldier

Stand!

Third Soldier

Stand!

Cassius

Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.

Brutus

Judge me, you gods! wrong I mine enemies?
And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?

Cassius

Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs;
And when you do them —

Brutus

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,
Let us not wrangle: bid them move away;
Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs,
And I will give you audience.

Cassius

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

Brutus

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

Scene III. Brutus’s tent.

Enter Brutus and Cassius

Cassius

That you have wrong’d me doth appear in this:
You have condemn’d and noted Lucius Pella
For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letters, praying on his side,
Because I knew the man, were slighted off.

Brutus

You wronged yourself to write in such a case.

Cassius

In such a time as this it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear his comment.

Brutus

Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemn’d to have an itching palm;
To sell and mart your offices for gold
To undeservers.

Cassius

  I an itching palm!
You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.

Brutus

The name of Cassius honours this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.

Cassius

Chastisement!

Brutus

Remember March, the ides of March remember:
Did not great Julius bleed for justice’ sake?
What villain touch’d his body, that did stab,
And not for justice? What, shall one of us
That struck the foremost man of all this world
But for supporting robbers, shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
And sell the mighty space of our large honours
For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.

Cassius

  Brutus, bay not me;
I’ll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I,
Older in practise, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

Brutus

Go to; you are not, Cassius.

Cassius

I am.

Brutus

I say you are not.

Cassius

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

Brutus

Away, slight man!

Cassius

Is’t possible?

Brutus

  Hear me, for I will speak.
Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

Cassius

O ye gods, ye gods! must I endure all this?

Brutus

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 shall 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.

Cassius

Is it come to this?

Brutus

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 noble men.

Cassius

You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus;
I said, an elder soldier, not a better:
Did I say ‘better’?

Brutus

If you did, I care not.

Cassius

When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.

Brutus

Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him.

Cassius

I durst not!

Brutus

No.

Cassius

What, durst not tempt him!

Brutus

For your life you durst not!

Cassius

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

Brutus

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,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
By any indirection: I did send
To you for gold to pay my legions,
Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?
Should I have answer’d Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts;
Dash him to pieces!

Cassius

I denied you not.

Brutus

You did.

Cassius

I did not: he was but a fool that brought
My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart:
A friend should bear his friend’s infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Brutus

I do not, till you practise them on me.

Cassius

You love me not.

Brutus

  I do not like your faults.

Cassius

A friendly eye could never see such faults.

Brutus

A flatterer’s would not, though they do appear
As huge as high Olympus.

Cassius

Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is aweary of the world;
Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
Cheque’d like a bondman; all his faults observed,
Set in a note-book, learn’d, and conn’d by rote,
To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep
My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast; within, a heart
Dearer than Plutus’ 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 Caesar; for, I know,
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better
Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.

Brutus

Sheathe 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;
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Cassius

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

Brutus

When I spoke that, I was ill-temper’d too.

Cassius

Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.

Brutus

And my heart too.

Cassius

  O Brutus!

Brutus

What’s the matter?

Cassius

Have not you love enough to bear with me,
When that rash humour which my mother gave me
Makes me forgetful?

Brutus

Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He’ll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

Poet

[Within] Let me go in to see the generals;
There is some grudge between ’em, ’tis not meet
They be alone.

Lucilius

[Within] You shall not come to them.

Poet

[Within] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius

Cassius

How now! what’s the matter?

Poet

For shame, you generals! what do you mean?
Love, and be friends, as two such men should be;
For I have seen more years, I’m sure, than ye.

Cassius

Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rhyme!

Brutus

Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!

Cassius

Bear with him, Brutus; ’tis his fashion.

Brutus

I’ll know his humour, when he knows his time:
What should the wars do with these jigging fools?
Companion, hence!

Cassius

  Away, away, be gone.

Exit Poet

Brutus

Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

Cassius

And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you
Immediately to us.

Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius

Brutus

Lucius, a bowl of wine!

Exit Lucius

Cassius

I did not think you could have been so angry.

Brutus

O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.

Cassius

Of your philosophy you make no use,
If you give place to accidental evils.

Brutus

No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.

Cassius

Ha! Portia!

Brutus

She is dead.

Cassius

How ’scaped I killing when I cross’d you so?
O insupportable and touching loss!
Upon what sickness?

Brutus

Impatient of my absence,
And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony
Have made themselves so strong:— for with her death
That tidings came; — with this she fell distract,
And, her attendants absent, swallow’d fire.

Cassius

And died so?

Brutus

  Even so.

Cassius

O ye immortal gods!

Re-enter Lucius, with wine and taper

Brutus

Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine.
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

Cassius

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.

Brutus

Come in, Titinius!

Exit Lucius

Re-enter Titinius, with Messala

Welcome, good Messala.
Now sit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.

Cassius

Portia, art thou gone?

Brutus

No more, I pray you.
Messala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius and Mark Antony
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition toward Philippi.

Messala

Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor.

Brutus

With what addition?

Messala

That by proscription and bills of outlawry,
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,
Have put to death an hundred senators.

Brutus

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

Cassius

Cicero one!

Messala

  Cicero is dead,
And by that order of proscription.
Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

Brutus

No, Messala.

Messala

Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?

Brutus

Nothing, Messala.

Messala

  That, methinks, is strange.

Brutus

Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours?

Messala

No, my lord.

Brutus

Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.

Messala

Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell:
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.

Brutus

Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala:
With meditating that she must die once,
I have the patience to endure it now.

Messala

Even so great men great losses should endure.

Cassius

I have as much of this in art as you,
But yet my nature could not bear it so.

Brutus

Well, to our work alive. What do you think
Of marching to Philippi presently?

Cassius

I do not think it good.

Brutus

Your reason?

Cassius

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, defense, and nimbleness.

Brutus

Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.
The people ’twixt Philippi and this ground
Do stand but in a forced affection;
For they have grudged us contribution:
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them shall make a fuller number up,
Come on refresh’d, new-added, and encouraged;
From which advantage shall we cut him off,
If at Philippi we do face him there,
These people at our back.

Cassius

Hear me, good brother.

Brutus

Under your pardon. You must note beside,
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.

Cassius

Then, with your will, go on;
We’ll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

Brutus

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?

Cassius

No more. Good night:
Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.

Brutus

Lucius!

Enter Lucius

My gown.

Exit Lucius

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

Cassius

O my dear brother!
This was an ill beginning of the night:
Never come such division ’tween our souls!
Let it not, Brutus.

Brutus

Every thing is well.

Cassius

Good night, my lord.

Brutus

Good night, good brother.

Titinius

Messala

Good night, Lord Brutus.

Brutus

Farewell, every one.

Exeunt all but Brutus

Re-enter Lucius, with the gown

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

Lucius

Here in the tent.

Brutus

  What, thou speak’st drowsily?
Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o’er-watch’d.
Call Claudius and some other of my men:
I’ll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.

Lucius

Varro and Claudius!

Enter Varro and Claudius

Varro

Calls my lord?

Brutus

I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep;
It may be I shall raise you by and by
On business to my brother Cassius.

Varro

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

Brutus

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.

Varro and Claudius lie down

Lucius

I was sure your lordship did not give it me.

Brutus

Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

Lucius

Ay, my lord, an’t please you.

Brutus

It does, my boy:
I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

Lucius

It is my duty, sir.

Brutus

I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest.

Lucius

I have slept, my lord, already.

Brutus

It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again;
I will not hold thee long: if I do live,
I will be good to thee.

Music, and a song

This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber,
Lay’st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,
That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good 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.

Enter the Ghost of Caesar

How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here?
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition.
It comes upon me. Art thou any thing?
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?
Speak to me what thou art.

Ghost

Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

Brutus

Why comest thou?

Ghost

To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.

Brutus

Well; then I shall see thee again?

Ghost

Ay, at Philippi.

Brutus

Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.

Exit Ghost

Now I have taken heart thou vanishest:
Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.
Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! Claudius!

Lucius

The strings, my lord, are false.

Brutus

He thinks he still is at his instrument.
Lucius, awake!

Lucius

My lord?

Brutus

Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?

Lucius

My lord, I do not know that I did cry.

Brutus

Yes, that thou didst: didst thou see any thing?

Lucius

Nothing, my lord.

Brutus

Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudius!

To Varro

Fellow thou, awake!

Varro

My lord?

Claudius

My lord?

Brutus

Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?

Varro

Claudius

Did we, my lord?

Brutus

Ay: saw you any thing?

Varro

No, my lord, I saw nothing.

Claudius

Nor I, my lord.

Brutus

Go and commend me to my brother Cassius;
Bid him set on his powers betimes before,
And we will follow.

Varro

Claudius

It shall be done, my lord.

Exeunt

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Last updated Wednesday, March 5, 2014 at 22:30