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[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are come.
[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are here.
Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
Yes, Caesar; but they’re not over yet.
Hail, Caesar! read this schedule.
Hail, Caesar! please read this letter.
Trebonius doth desire you to o’erread, At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
Trebonius asks that you read, When you have a moment, this humble request.
O Caesar, read mine first; for mine’s a suit That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar.
Oh Caesar, read mine first; mine is a request That concerns you more directly: read it, great Caesar.
What touches us ourself shall be last served.
What affects us personally will be read last.
Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly.
Don’t delay, Caesar; read it right now.
What, is the fellow mad?
What, is this guy crazy?
Sirrah, give place.
Hey, move aside.
What, urge you your petitions in the street? Come to the Capitol.
What, are you making your requests in the street? Come to the Capitol.
I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.
I hope your plans succeed today.
What enterprise, Popilius?
What plans, Popilius?
Fare you well.
Goodbye.
What said Popilius Lena?
What did Popilius Lena say?
He wish’d to-day our enterprise might thrive. I fear our purpose is discovered.
He wished that our plan would succeed today. I’m afraid our plan has been discovered.
Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him.
Look, he’s going to Caesar; watch him.
Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, For I will slay myself.
Casca, be quick, because we fear they’ll stop us. Brutus, what should we do? If they find out, Cassius or Caesar will never back down, Because I’ll kill myself.
Cassius, be constant: Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.
Cassius, stay strong: Popilius Lena isn’t talking about our plan; Look, he’s smiling, and Caesar isn’t changing.
Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus. He draws Mark Antony out of the way.
Trebonius knows his timing; look, Brutus. He’s taking Mark Antony out of the way.
Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.
Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, And immediately present his request to Caesar.
He is address’d: press near and second him.
He’s ready: move closer and support him.
Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.
Casca, you’re the first to raise your hand.
Are we all ready? What is now amiss That Caesar and his senate must redress?
Are we all set? What’s wrong now That Caesar and his Senate need to fix?
Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat An humble heart,--
Most high, most mighty, and most powerful Caesar, Metellus Cimber lays before your seat A humble heart,--
I must prevent thee, Cimber. These couchings and these lowly courtesies Might fire the blood of ordinary men, And turn pre-ordinance and first decree Into the law of children. Be not fond, To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood That will be thaw’d from the true quality With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, Low-crooked court’sies and base spaniel-fawning. Thy brother by decree is banished: If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied.
I must stop you, Cimber. These gestures and these lowly courtesies Could inflame the blood of ordinary men, And turn established rules and decrees Into childish whims. Don’t be foolish, To think that Caesar has such rebellious blood That it can be softened by sweet words, Obsequious gestures, or slavish flattery. Your brother has been banished by decree: If you bend down and beg and fawn for him, I’ll kick you out of my way like a dog. Know this, Caesar doesn’t do wrong, and he won’t be appeased Without a good reason.
Is there no voice more worthy than my own To sound more sweetly in great Caesar’s ear For the repealing of my banish’d brother?
Is there no one else more worthy than me To speak more pleasingly in Caesar’s ear To ask for my banished brother’s return?
I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
I kiss your hand, but not to flatter, Caesar; I ask you to allow Publius Cimber to Be immediately freed from his exile.
What, Brutus!
What, Brutus!
Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: Cassius falls at your feet, To beg for Publius Cimber’s freedom.
I could be well moved, if I were as you: If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true-fix’d and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament. The skies are painted with unnumber’d sparks, They are all fire and every one doth shine, But there’s but one in all doth hold his place: So in the world; ’tis furnish’d well with men, And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; Yet in the number I do know but one That unassailable holds on his rank, Unshaked of motion: and that I am he, Let me a little show it, even in this; That I was constant Cimber should be banish’d, And constant do remain to keep him so.
I could be persuaded, if I were in your place: If I could pray to be moved, my prayers would move me: But I am as constant as the North Star, Which is always fixed and unchanging And has no equal in the sky. The heavens are full of countless stars, They’re all fire and they all shine, But there’s only one that holds its place: Similarly, the world is full of men, And men are just flesh and blood, easily influenced; But I know of only one Who remains unshaken in his position, Who cannot be moved: and that is me. Let me show you this, even in this moment; I was firm that Cimber should be exiled, And I remain firm in keeping him that way.
O Caesar,--
Oh Caesar,--
Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Get away! Are you trying to move the heavens?
Great Caesar,--
Great Caesar,--
Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
Doesn’t Brutus kneel in vain?
Speak, hands for me!
Speak, hands, do my work for me!
Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar.
And you, Brutus! Then fall, Caesar.
Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! Run, shout it in the streets.
Some to the common pulpits, and cry out ’Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!’
Some go to the public squares, and shout "Liberty, freedom, and rights for all!"
People and senators, be not affrighted; Fly not; stand stiff: ambition’s debt is paid.
People and senators, don’t be afraid; Don’t flee; stand firm: ambition’s debt has been paid.
Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
Go to the platform, Brutus.
And Cassius too.
And Cassius too.
Where’s Publius?
Where’s Publius?
Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
Here, completely confused by this rebellion.
Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar’s Should chance--
Stand together, or some friend of Caesar’s Might come upon us--
Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; There is no harm intended to your person, Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius.
Don’t worry about standing. Publius, be calm; No harm is meant to you, Or to any other Roman: so tell them, Publius.
And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
And leave us, Publius; so the people, Running towards us, won’t harm you because of your age.
Do so: and let no man abide this deed, But we the doers.
Go ahead: and let no one stay to witness this act, Except those of us who are doing it.
Where is Antony?
Where is Antony?
Fled to his house amazed: Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run As it were doomsday.
He fled to his house, shocked: Men, women, and children are staring, crying, and running As if it were the end of the world.
Fates, we will know your pleasures: That we shall die, we know; ’tis but the time And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
Fates, we will accept your will: We know we’re going to die; it’s just a matter of time And how long we have to wait.
Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
Well, the person who cuts twenty years off their life Removes that much time of fearing death.
Grant that, and then is death a benefit: So are we Caesar’s friends, that have abridged His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, And let us bathe our hands in Caesar’s blood Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, And, waving our red weapons o’er our heads, Let’s all cry ’Peace, freedom and liberty!’
That’s true, and if so, death is a gift: So are we Caesar’s friends, for we’ve shortened His time of fearing death. Bend down, Romans, bend down, And let’s dip our hands in Caesar’s blood Up to our elbows, and smear our swords: Then let’s walk out, right to the marketplace, And, waving our bloody weapons above our heads, Let’s all shout ‘Peace, freedom, and liberty!’
Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
Bend down, then, and wash. How many generations from now Will this great scene be reenacted In future states and languages yet to be heard?
How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey’s basis lies along No worthier than the dust!
How many times will Caesar’s blood be spilled in fun, Lying where Pompey’s statue used to stand, No more important than the dirt beneath it!
So oft as that shall be, So often shall the knot of us be call’d The men that gave their country liberty.
As often as that happens, We will always be remembered As the men who gave their country freedom.
What, shall we forth?
What, should we go now?
Ay, every man away: Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
Yes, everyone, go: Brutus will lead, and we will support him With the boldest and best hearts in Rome.
Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony’s.
Wait! Who’s there? A friend of Antony’s.
Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel: Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; Say I fear’d Caesar, honour’d him and loved him. If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolved How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead So well as Brutus living; but will follow The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus Thorough the hazards of this untrod state With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
This is what my master told me to say, Brutus: This is what Mark Antony told me to say: And, lying down, he told me to say: Brutus is noble, wise, brave, and honest; Caesar was powerful, bold, royal, and loving: Say I love Brutus, and I honor him; Say I feared Caesar, honored him, and loved him. If Brutus will allow Antony To come safely to him, and answer How Caesar deserves to die, Mark Antony will not love Caesar dead As much as he loves Brutus alive; he will follow The fortunes and plans of noble Brutus Through the risks of this uncertain time With complete loyalty. So says my master Antony.
Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; I never thought him worse. Tell him, so please him come unto this place, He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, Depart untouch’d.
Your master is a wise and brave Roman; I never thought he was anything less. Tell him, if it pleases him to come here, He will be satisfied; and, by my honor, He will leave untouched.
I’ll fetch him presently.
I’ll bring him right away.
I know that we shall have him well to friend.
I know we will have him as a friend.
I wish we may: but yet have I a mind That fears him much; and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
I hope so, but I still have a feeling That makes me worry about him; my doubt Feels strongly related to the matter.
But here comes Antony.
But here comes Antony.
Welcome, Mark Antony.
Welcome, Mark Antony.
O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: If I myself, there is no hour so fit As Caesar’s death hour, nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich With the most noble blood of all this world. I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die: No place will please me so, no mean of death, As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, The choice and master spirits of this age.
Oh mighty Caesar! Is this how low you lie? Are all your conquests, glories, triumphs, and spoils Reduced to this small space? Farewell. I don’t know, gentlemen, what your plans are, Who else must be killed, who else is dangerous: If I must die, there’s no time better Than Caesar’s death hour, and no weapon Of half the value of your swords, made rich With the noblest blood in the world. I beg you, if you hold anything against me, Now, while your hands are covered in blood, Do what you must. Live a thousand years, I’ll never feel more ready to die: No place would please me more, no way to die, Than here by Caesar, and by you cut down, The most important and noble spirits of this age.
O Antony, beg not your death of us. Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As, by our hands and this our present act, You see we do, yet see you but our hands And this the bleeding business they have done: Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; And pity to the general wrong of Rome-- As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-- Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony: Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts Of brothers’ temper, do receive you in With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Oh Antony, don’t ask for your death from us. Even though we must seem bloody and cruel, As you can see we are, with our hands and this act, You only see our hands And the bloody work they’ve done: You don’t see our hearts; they are full of pity; And pity for the great wrong done to Rome— Just as fire drives out fire, so pity drives out pity— Is what led us to do this to Caesar. As for you, Our swords have dull tips, Mark Antony: Our arms, full of brotherly love, and our hearts Are open to you with kindness, good thoughts, and respect.
Your voice shall be as strong as any man’s In the disposing of new dignities.
Your voice will be as strong as anyone’s In deciding who gets new honors.
Only be patient till we have appeased The multitude, beside themselves with fear, And then we will deliver you the cause, Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, Have thus proceeded.
Just be patient until we calm down The crowd, who are out of control with fear, Then we will explain to you why I, who loved Caesar when I killed him, Have done what I’ve done.
I doubt not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand: First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus; Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius. Gentlemen all,--alas, what shall I say? My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward or a flatterer. That I did love thee, Caesar, O, ’tis true: If then thy spirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, To see thy thy Anthony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, It would become me better than to close In terms of friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay’d, brave hart; Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, Sign’d in thy spoil, and crimson’d in thy lethe. O world, thou wast the forest to this hart; And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. How like a deer, strucken by many princes, Dost thou here lie!
I have no doubt about your wisdom. Let each man give me his bloody hand: First, Marcus Brutus, I will shake with you; Next, Caius Cassius, I’ll take your hand; Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus; Yours, Cinna; and, my brave Casca, yours; Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius. Gentlemen all—oh, what can I say? My reputation now stands on shaky ground, And people will think one of two bad things about me, Either that I’m a coward or a flatterer. That I loved you, Caesar, is true: If your spirit sees us now, Will it not pain you more than your death, To see your Antony making peace, Shaking the bloody hands of your killers, Most noble, in front of your body? If I had as many eyes as you have wounds, Weeping as fast as your blood flows, It would suit me better than to make Friends with those who killed you. Forgive me, Julius! Here you were struck down, brave heart; Here you fell; and here your murderers stand, Marked by your blood, and stained by your death. Oh world, you were the forest to this heart; And this, indeed, oh world, was the heart of you. How like a deer, struck by many kings, Do you lie here!
Mark Antony,--
Mark Antony—
Pardon me, Caius Cassius: The enemies of Caesar shall say this; Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
Forgive me, Caius Cassius: The enemies of Caesar will say this; But for a friend, it’s just modesty.
I blame you not for praising Caesar so; But what compact mean you to have with us? Will you be prick’d in number of our friends; Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
I don’t blame you for praising Caesar so; But what do you mean to agree to with us? Will you join us as one of our friends; Or shall we go ahead without you?
Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, Sway’d from the point, by looking down on Caesar. Friends am I with you all and love you all, Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous.
That’s why I took your hands, but I was, in fact, Moved away from my point, by looking at Caesar. I am friends with you all and love you all, On the condition that you give me reasons Why and how Caesar was a threat.
Or else were this a savage spectacle: Our reasons are so full of good regard That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, You should be satisfied.
Or else this would be a cruel show: Our reasons are so full of good sense That if you, Antony, were Caesar’s son, You would understand.
That’s all I seek: And am moreover suitor that I may Produce his body to the market-place; And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, Speak in the order of his funeral.
That’s all I want: And I also ask to Bring his body to the marketplace; And in the pulpit, as a friend should, Speak at his funeral.
You shall, Mark Antony.
You shall, Mark Antony.
Brutus, a word with you.
Brutus, a word with you.
You know not what you do: do not consent That Antony speak in his funeral: Know you how much the people may be moved By that which he will utter?
You don’t know what you’re doing: don’t agree That Antony speaks at his funeral: Do you realize how much the crowd can be influenced By what he says?
By your pardon; I will myself into the pulpit first, And show the reason of our Caesar’s death: What Antony shall speak, I will protest He speaks by leave and by permission, And that we are contented Caesar shall Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
With your permission; I’ll go into the pulpit first, And explain why we killed Caesar: What Antony says, I’ll make it clear He speaks with our permission, And that we are okay with Caesar getting All the proper rites and ceremonies. This will be more beneficial than harmful.
I know not what may fall; I like it not.
I don’t know what will happen; I don’t like it.
Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar’s body. You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, And say you do’t by our permission; Else shall you not have any hand at all About his funeral: and you shall speak In the same pulpit whereto I am going, After my speech is ended.
Mark Antony, here, take Caesar’s body. You won’t blame us in your funeral speech, But speak only good things about Caesar, And say you do it with our permission; Otherwise, you won’t have any part in His funeral: and you’ll speak After my speech is finished, From the same pulpit where I stand.
Be it so. I do desire no more.
Let it be that way. I don’t want anything more.
Prepare the body then, and follow us.
Then prepare the body and come with us.
O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers! Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,-- Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue-- A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; Blood and destruction shall be so in use And dreadful objects so familiar That mothers shall but smile when they behold Their infants quarter’d with the hands of war; All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: And Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge, With Ate by his side come hot from hell, Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice Cry ’Havoc,’ and let slip the dogs of war; That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial.
Oh, forgive me, you bleeding piece of earth, That I’m being so gentle with these murderers! You are the wreck of the noblest man That ever lived in the whole history of the world. Woe to the hand that spilled this precious blood! Over your wounds I now make a prophecy-- Which, like silent mouths, open their red lips, To beg for the voice and speech of my tongue-- A curse will fall on the limbs of men; Domestic rage and violent civil war Will take over all of Italy; Blood and destruction will become so common And terrifying sights so familiar That mothers will just smile when they see Their babies torn apart by the hands of war; All mercy choked by the habit of brutal deeds: And Caesar’s spirit, seeking revenge, With Ate by his side, fresh from hell, Will shout in these lands like a king’s voice Crying ’Destroy,’ and unleash the dogs of war; This foul act will stink above the earth With dead bodies, groaning for burial.
You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?
You serve Octavius Caesar, don’t you?
I do, Mark Antony.
I do, Mark Antony.
Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.
Caesar wrote for him to come to Rome.
He did receive his letters, and is coming; And bid me say to you by word of mouth-- O Caesar!--
He got his letters and is on his way; And asked me to tell you personally-- Oh Caesar!--
Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water. Is thy master coming?
Your heart is heavy, go away and cry. I see that passion is contagious; for my eyes, Seeing those tears of sorrow in yours, Started to water too. Is your master coming?
He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome.
He’s about seven leagues from Rome right now.
Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse Into the market-place: there shall I try In my oration, how the people take The cruel issue of these bloody men; According to the which, thou shalt discourse To young Octavius of the state of things. Lend me your hand.
Go back quickly and tell him what has happened: Here is a grieving Rome, a dangerous Rome, Not a safe place for Octavius yet; Go now, and tell him so. Wait, hold on; You won’t return until I’ve carried this body Into the marketplace: there, I’ll speak In my speech, to see how the people react To these cruel acts of these bloody men; Based on that, you’ll tell young Octavius How things stand. Give me your hand.