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Modern English
We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.
We’ll be satisfied; let’s just be satisfied.
Then follow me, and give me audience, friends. Cassius, go you into the other street, And part the numbers. Those that will hear me speak, let ’em stay here; Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; And public reasons shall be rendered Of Caesar’s death.
Then follow me, and listen, friends. Cassius, go to the other street, And separate the crowds. Those who want to hear me speak, stay here; Those who want to follow Cassius, go with him; And I’ll give public reasons For Caesar’s death.
I will hear Brutus speak.
I want to hear Brutus speak.
I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons, When severally we hear them rendered.
I want to hear Cassius; and compare their reasons, After we hear them each separately.
The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!
The noble Brutus is up: quiet!
Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar’s, to him I say, that Brutus’ love to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: --Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
Be patient until the end. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! listen to me for my cause, and stay quiet so you can hear: believe me because of my honor, and respect my honor so you can believe: judge me with your wisdom, and open your minds, so you can judge better. If there’s anyone here, any dear friend of Caesar’s, to him I say, that Brutus’ love for Caesar was no less than his. If that friend then asks why Brutus went against Caesar, this is my answer: --Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Would you rather Caesar were alive and we all live as slaves, or that Caesar were dead, and we all live as free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was lucky, I’m glad for him; as he was brave, I honor him: but, because he was ambitious, I killed him. There are tears for his love; joy for his luck; honor for his bravery; and death for his ambition. Who here is so low that they would be a slave? If anyone, speak; for him, I have offended. Who here is so rude that they wouldn’t be a Roman? If anyone, speak; for him, I have offended. Who here is so wicked that they won’t love their country? If anyone, speak; for him, I have offended. I’ll wait for a response.
None, Brutus, none.
No one, Brutus, no one.
Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy, nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death.
Then I have offended no one. I’ve done no more to Caesar than you would do to Brutus. The question of his death is written in the Capitol; his glory is not diminished, where he was worthy, nor his wrongs exaggerated, for which he suffered death.
Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart,--that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, even though he had no part in his death, will gain from his death, a place in the commonwealth; just like any of you will. With this I leave,--that, as I killed my best friend for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it’s my country’s turn to need my death.
Live, Brutus! live, live!
Live, Brutus! live, live!
Bring him with triumph home unto his house.
Bring him home with triumph to his house.
Give him a statue with his ancestors.
Give him a statue next to his ancestors.
Let him be Caesar.
Let him be Caesar.
Caesar’s better parts Shall be crown’d in Brutus.
Caesar’s better qualities Shall be crowned in Brutus.
We’ll bring him to his house With shouts and clamours.
We’ll take him to his house With shouting and noise.
My countrymen,--
My fellow Romans,--
Peace, silence! Brutus speaks.
Quiet, silence! Brutus is speaking.
Peace, ho!
Quiet, everyone!
Good countrymen, let me depart alone, And, for my sake, stay here with Antony: Do grace to Caesar’s corpse, and grace his speech Tending to Caesar’s glories; which Mark Antony, By our permission, is allow’d to make. I do entreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone, till Antony have spoke.
Good people of Rome, let me leave by myself, And, for my sake, stay here with Antony: Show respect to Caesar’s body, and honor his speech About Caesar’s greatness; which Mark Antony, With our permission, is allowed to give. I ask you, no one leave, Except me, until Antony has spoken.
Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.
Wait! Let’s listen to Mark Antony.
Let him go up into the public chair; We’ll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.
Let him climb into the public speaker’s chair; We’ll listen to him. Noble Antony, go ahead.
For Brutus’ sake, I am beholding to you.
Because of Brutus, I owe you all my thanks.
What does he say of Brutus?
What is he saying about Brutus?
He says, for Brutus’ sake, He finds himself beholding to us all.
He says, for Brutus’ sake, He is grateful to all of us.
’Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.
It would be best if he doesn’t speak ill of Brutus here.
This Caesar was a tyrant.
This Caesar was a tyrant.
Nay, that’s certain: We are blest that Rome is rid of him.
Yes, that’s true: We’re lucky that Rome is free of him.
Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.
Quiet! Let’s hear what Antony has to say.
You gentle Romans,--
You kind Romans,--
Peace, ho! let us hear him.
Quiet, hey! Let’s listen to him.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest-- For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men-- Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; 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 Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, listen to me; I’ve come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The bad things people do live on after them; The good is often buried with their bodies; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Told you Caesar was ambitious: If that’s true, it was a serious mistake, And Caesar paid for it in a serious way. Here, with Brutus’ and the others’ permission-- For Brutus is an honourable man; And so are they all, all honourable men-- I’ve come to speak at Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, loyal and fair to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. He brought many prisoners back to Rome Whose ransoms filled the general treasury: Did that seem like ambition to you? When the poor cried out, Caesar wept: Ambition should be made of tougher stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. You all saw that at the Lupercal I offered him a royal crown three times, And he refused it three times: was that ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I’m not trying to argue against what Brutus said, But I’m here to tell you what I know. You all loved him once, and for good reason: What’s stopping you now from mourning him? Oh, judgment! You’ve fled to savage animals, And men have lost their reason. Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin with Caesar, And I need to pause until I can get it back.
Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
I think there’s a lot of sense in what he says.
If thou consider rightly of the matter, Caesar has had great wrong.
If you think about it properly, Caesar was wronged badly.
Has he, masters? I fear there will a worse come in his place.
Was he, masters? I fear something worse might come in his place.
Mark’d ye his words? He would not take the crown; Therefore ’tis certain he was not ambitious.
Did you hear his words? He wouldn’t take the crown; So it’s clear he wasn’t ambitious.
If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
If that’s true, some will pay dearly for it.
Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
Poor soul! His eyes are as red as fire from crying.
There’s not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
There’s no one nobler than Antony in Rome.
Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
Watch him, he’s about to speak again.
But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there. And none so poor to do him reverence. O masters, if I were disposed 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 Caesar; I found it in his closet, ’tis his will: Let but the commons hear this testament-- Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read-- And they would go and kiss dead Caesar’s wounds 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.
Just yesterday, Caesar’s word Could have stood against the world; now he lies there. And there’s no one so poor that they don’t respect him. Oh, masters, if I wanted to stir up Your hearts and minds to rebellion and anger, I’d be wronging Brutus and Cassius, Who, as you know, are honourable men: I won’t wrong them; I’d rather wrong The dead, myself, and you, Than wrong such honourable men. But here’s a paper with Caesar’s seal; I found it in his room, it’s his will: Let the people hear this will-- Which, forgive me, I’m not going to read-- And they’d go kiss Caesar’s wounds And dip their handkerchiefs in his sacred blood, Yes, beg for a hair of him to keep as a memento, And, as they die, mention it in their wills, Leaving it as a rich inheritance To their children.
We’ll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
We’ll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
The will, the will! we will hear Caesar’s will.
The will, the will! We want to hear Caesar’s will.
Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it; It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men; And, being men, bearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad: ’Tis good you know not that you are his heirs; For, if you should, O, what would come of it!
Be patient, gentle friends, I can’t read it yet; It’s not right you know how Caesar loved you. You’re not wood, you’re not stones, but men; And, being men, hearing Caesar’s will, It will inflame you, it will make you crazy: It’s better you don’t know you’re his heirs; Because if you did, oh, what would happen!
Read the will; we’ll hear it, Antony; You shall read us the will, Caesar’s will.
Read the will; we’ll hear it, Antony; You shall read us the will, Caesar’s will.
Will you be patient? will you stay awhile? I have o’ershot myself to tell you of it: I fear I wrong the honourable men Whose daggers have stabb’d Caesar; I do fear it.
Will you be patient? Will you wait a moment? I may have gone too far in telling you this: I’m afraid I’m dishonoring the honorable men Whose daggers stabbed Caesar; I truly fear it.
They were traitors: honourable men!
They were traitors: honorable men!
The will! the testament!
The will! The will!
They were villains, murderers: the will! read the will.
They were villains, murderers: the will! Read the will.
You will compel me, then, to read the will? Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?
So, you want me to read the will, do you? Then make a circle around Caesar’s body, And let me show you who made the will. Should I come down? Will you allow me to?
Come down.
Come down.
Descend.
Come down.
You shall have leave.
You have our permission.
A ring; stand round.
Form a circle; stand around.
Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
Step away from the coffin, step away from the body.
Room for Antony, most noble Antony.
Make room for Antony, the most noble Antony.
Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.
No, don’t crowd me; stand back.
Stand back; room; bear back.
Step back; make room; give space.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar 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 Caesar follow’d it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knock’d, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar’s angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms, Quite vanquish’d him: then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey’s statua, Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish’d over us. O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity: these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold Our Caesar’s vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is himself, marr’d, as you see, with traitors.
If you have tears, get ready to shed them now. You all know this cloak: I remember The first time Caesar ever wore it; It was on a summer evening, in his tent, The day he defeated the Nervii: Look, here is where Cassius’ dagger went through: See the cut Casca made, filled with envy: Through this, good Brutus stabbed him; And as he pulled out his cursed blade, Notice how Caesar’s blood followed it, As if rushing out to see If Brutus had really stabbed him so cruelly; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar’s angel: Judge, oh gods, how much Caesar loved him! This was the cruelest wound of all; For when noble Caesar saw him strike, Ingratitude, stronger than the arms of traitors, Overcame him completely: then his great heart broke; And, with his cloak covering his face, Even at the foot of Pompey’s statue, Which was dripping with blood the whole time, great Caesar fell. Oh, what a fall that was, my fellow citizens! Then I, and you, and all of us fell too, While bloody treason flourished over us. Oh, now you weep; and I can see you feel The sting of sympathy: these are kind tears. Kind souls, why do you weep just because you see Caesar’s clothes torn? Look here, Here is Caesar himself, ruined, as you see, by traitors.
O piteous spectacle!
Oh, what a sad sight!
O noble Caesar!
Oh, great Caesar!
O woful day!
Oh, what a sad day!
O traitors, villains!
Oh, traitors, villains!
O most bloody sight!
Oh, what a bloody sight!
We will be revenged.
We will get revenge.
Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill! Slay! Let not a traitor live!
Revenge! Let’s go! Find them! Burn! Fire! Kill! Slay! Let no traitor live!
Stay, countrymen.
Wait, fellow citizens.
Peace there! hear the noble Antony.
Quiet down! Listen to the noble Antony.
We’ll hear him, we’ll follow him, we’ll die with him.
We’ll listen to him, we’ll follow him, we’ll die with him.
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 Caesar’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 Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Good friends, sweet friends, don’t let me stir you up To such a sudden rush of rebellion. Those who did this are honorable: I don’t know what personal troubles they had, That made them do it: they are wise and honorable, And will, no doubt, explain their actions with reasons. I’m not here, friends, to take your hearts away: I’m no great speaker like Brutus is; But, as you all know me, I’m just a simple, honest man, Who loves my friend; and they know very well That gave me permission to speak about him: Because I have neither skill, nor words, nor value, Action, nor expression, nor the power of speech, To move people’s emotions: I just speak plainly; I tell you what you already know; I show you Caesar’s wounds, poor poor silent mouths, And ask them to speak for me: but if I were Brutus, And Brutus were Antony, there would be an Antony Who would stir up your emotions and put a voice In every wound of Caesar that would make The stones of Rome rise up and rebel.
We’ll mutiny.
We’ll rebel.
We’ll burn the house of Brutus.
We’ll burn Brutus’ house down.
Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.
Let’s go, then! Come on, let’s find the conspirators.
Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
But listen to me, fellow citizens; let me speak.
Peace, ho! Hear Antony. Most noble Antony!
Quiet! Listen to Antony. The most noble Antony!
Why, friends, you go to do you know not what: Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves? Alas, you know not: I must tell you then: You have forgot the will I told you of.
Why, friends, you’re about to do something you don’t even understand: Why has Caesar earned your love like this? Oh, you don’t know: I must tell you then: You’ve forgotten the will I told you about.
Most true. The will! Let’s stay and hear the will.
That’s true. The will! Let’s stay and hear the will.
Here is the will, and under Caesar’s seal. To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
Here is the will, and it’s sealed by Caesar. He gives seventy-five drachmas to every Roman citizen, To every single man.
Most noble Caesar! We’ll revenge his death.
Most noble Caesar! We’ll get revenge for his death.
O royal Caesar!
Oh, mighty Caesar!
Hear me with patience.
Please, listen to me patiently.
Peace, ho!
Quiet, everyone!
Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbours and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber; he hath left them you, And to your heirs for ever, common pleasures, To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?
Also, he has left you all his private gardens, His personal groves and newly planted orchards, On this side of the Tiber River; he’s left them to you, And to your heirs forever, for your enjoyment, So you can walk around and relax. Here was a Caesar! When will we see another like him?
Never, never. Come, away, away! We’ll burn his body in the holy place, And with the brands fire the traitors’ houses. Take up the body.
Never, never. Come on, let’s go! We’ll burn his body in the sacred place, And set fire to the traitors’ houses. Pick up the body.
Go fetch fire.
Go get some fire.
Pluck down benches.
Take down the benches.
Pluck down forms, windows, any thing.
Take down the chairs, the windows, everything.
Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt!
Now let’s see how this turns out. Trouble, you’re unleashed, Take whatever path you want!
How now, fellow!
How’s it going, man?
Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
Sir, Octavius has already arrived in Rome.
Where is he?
Where is he?
He and Lepidus are at Caesar’s house.
He and Lepidus are at Caesar’s house.
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.
I’ll go straight to see him: He comes when asked. Fortune is smiling, And in this mood, she’ll give us anything.
I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
I heard him say that Brutus and Cassius Are running like madmen through the gates of Rome.
Belike they had some notice of the people, How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius.
They probably heard something about the people, How I stirred them up. Take me to Octavius.