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Now, Antony, our hopes are answered: You said the enemy would not come down, But keep the hills and upper regions; It proves not so: their battles are at hand; They mean to warn us at Philippi here, Answering before we do demand of them.
Now, Antony, our hopes are answered: You said the enemy wouldn’t come down, But would stay on the hills and higher ground; It’s not true: their army is here; They want to challenge us at Philippi, Answering before we even ask them to.
Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know Wherefore they do it: they could be content To visit other places; and come down With fearful bravery, thinking by this face To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage; But ’tis not so.
Nonsense, I know their intentions, I know why they’re doing it: they’d rather Fight elsewhere; and come down With false courage, thinking that by doing this They’ll convince us they’re brave; But that’s not the case.
Prepare you, generals: The enemy comes on in gallant show; Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, And something to be done immediately.
Get ready, generals: The enemy is approaching in full force; Their battle flag is flying high, And something will happen soon.
Octavius, lead your battle softly on, Upon the left hand of the even field.
Octavius, move your troops slowly, To the left side of the battlefield.
Upon the right hand I; keep thou the left.
I’ll take the right side; you stay on the left.
Why do you cross me in this exigent?
Why are you going against my orders right now?
I do not cross you; but I will do so.
I’m not going against you; but I’m going to do it anyway.
They stand, and would have parley.
They’re waiting, and want to speak with us.
Stand fast, Titinius: we must out and talk.
Hold your position, Titinius: we need to go out and talk.
Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?
Mark Antony, should we signal for battle?
No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge. Make forth; the generals would have some words.
No, Caesar, we will respond to their accusation. Go ahead; the generals want to say something.
Stir not until the signal.
Don’t move until we get the signal.
Words before blows: is it so, countrymen?
Should we talk before we fight? Is that right, fellow citizens?
Not that we love words better, as you do.
It’s not that we prefer talking over action, like you do.
Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.
Good words are better than bad actions, Octavius.
In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words: Witness the hole you made in Caesar’s heart, Crying ’Long live! hail, Caesar!’
With your bad actions, Brutus, you use good words: Just look at the wound you gave Caesar’s heart, Shouting, “Long live! Hail, Caesar!”
Antony, The posture of your blows are yet unknown; But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless.
Antony, We don’t yet know how your blows will land; But your words are like bees from Hybla, They steal the honey and leave the hive empty.
Not stingless too.
They’re not without sting, though.
O, yes, and soundless too; For you have stol’n their buzzing, Antony, And very wisely threat before you sting.
Oh, yes, and silent too; Because you’ve stolen their buzzing, Antony, And cleverly threaten before you strike.
Villains, you did not so, when your vile daggers Hack’d one another in the sides of Caesar: You show’d your teeth like apes, and fawn’d like hounds, And bow’d like bondmen, kissing Caesar’s feet; Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers!
Cowards, you didn’t do that when your filthy daggers Slashed each other in Caesar’s sides: You bared your teeth like monkeys, and fawned like dogs, And bowed like slaves, kissing Caesar’s feet; While the damned Casca, like a dog, struck Caesar’s neck from behind. Oh, you flatterers!
Flatterers! Now, Brutus, thank yourself: This tongue had not offended so to-day, If Cassius might have ruled.
Flatterers! Now, Brutus, thank yourself: If Cassius had been in charge, this tongue would not have offended you today.
Come, come, the cause: if arguing make us sweat, The proof of it will turn to redder drops. Look; I draw a sword against conspirators; When think you that the sword goes up again? Never, till Caesar’s three and thirty wounds Be well avenged; or till another Caesar Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
Come on, come on, let’s get to the point: if arguing makes us sweat, The proof of it will come in blood. Look; I draw my sword against traitors; When do you think I’ll put it away? Never, until Caesar’s thirty-three wounds Are fully avenged, or until another Caesar Has added more slaughter to the traitors’ swords.
Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors’ hands, Unless thou bring’st them with thee.
Caesar, you can’t die at the hands of traitors, Unless you bring them with you.
So I hope; I was not born to die on Brutus’ sword.
That’s my hope; I wasn’t born to die by Brutus’ sword.
O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.
Oh, if you were the noblest of your family, Young man, you couldn’t die more honorably.
A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour, Join’d with a masker and a reveller!
A whiny schoolboy, unworthy of such honor, Joined with a party animal and a drunk!
Old Cassius still!
Cassius is still alive!
Come, Antony, away! Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth: If you dare fight to-day, come to the field; If not, when you have stomachs.
Come on, Antony, let’s go! We throw our challenge at you traitors: If you want to fight today, come to the battlefield; If not, then wait until you’re ready.
Why, now, blow wind, swell billow and swim bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Well, let the wind blow, let the waves rise and the ship sail! The storm has started, and everything is at risk.
Ho, Lucilius! hark, a word with you.
Hey, Lucilius! Listen, I need to talk to you.
[Standing forth] My lord?
[Stepping forward] My lord?
Messala!
Messala!
[Standing forth] What says my general?
[Stepping forward] What does my general want?
Messala, This is my birth-day; as this very day Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala: Be thou my witness that against my will, As Pompey was, am I compell’d to set Upon one battle all our liberties. You know that I held Epicurus strong And his opinion: now I change my mind, And partly credit things that do presage. Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch’d, Gorging and feeding from our soldiers’ hands; Who to Philippi here consorted us: This morning are they fled away and gone; And in their steads do ravens, crows and kites, Fly o’er our heads and downward look on us, As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem A canopy most fatal, under which Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.
Messala, Today is my birthday; it’s the very day Cassius was born. Shake my hand, Messala: Be my witness that against my will, Like Pompey, I am forced to risk All our freedom in one battle. You know I believed in Epicurus and his ideas: Now I’m changing my mind, And I’m starting to believe in omens. Coming from Sardis, on our old standard Two mighty eagles fell, and they sat there, Eating and feeding from our soldiers’ hands; The same soldiers who joined us here at Philippi: This morning, they flew away. And in their place, ravens, crows, and vultures Are flying over our heads, looking down on us, As if we were sickly prey: their shadows look Like a deadly canopy, under which Our army lies, ready to die.
Believe not so.
Don’t believe it.
I but believe it partly; For I am fresh of spirit and resolved To meet all perils very constantly.
I only believe it a little; But I am full of energy and determined To face any dangers with courage.
Even so, Lucilius.
Exactly, Lucilius.
Now, most noble Brutus, The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may, Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age! But since the affairs of men rest still incertain, Let’s reason with the worst that may befall. If we do lose this battle, then is this The very last time we shall speak together: What are you then determined to do?
Now, most noble Brutus, The gods are with us today, so that we may, Lovers of peace, live to a ripe old age! But since the fate of men is still uncertain, Let’s prepare for the worst that might happen. If we lose this battle, this will be the Last time we’ll speak to each other: What will you do then?
Even by the rule of that philosophy By which I did blame Cato for the death Which he did give himself, I know not how, But I do find it cowardly and vile, For fear of what might fall, so to prevent The time of life: arming myself with patience To stay the providence of some high powers That govern us below.
Following the same philosophy That made me criticize Cato for taking his own life, I don’t know how, but I believe it’s cowardly and wrong To fear what might happen and try to avoid it By ending your life early: instead, I arm myself with patience And accept the will of the higher powers That guide us below.
Then, if we lose this battle, You are contented to be led in triumph Thorough the streets of Rome?
So, if we lose this battle, You’ll be okay with being paraded in a triumph Through the streets of Rome?
No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble Roman, That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome; He bears too great a mind. But this same day Must end that work the ides of March begun; And whether we shall meet again I know not. Therefore our everlasting farewell take: For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then, this parting was well made.
No, Cassius, no: don’t think, you noble Roman, That Brutus would ever go to Rome as a prisoner; He has too strong a will. But this day Must finish what the Ides of March started; And whether we’ll meet again, I don’t know. So, take this final farewell: Forever and ever, goodbye, Cassius! If we do meet again, we’ll smile; If not, then this goodbye was well done.
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Brutus! If we do meet again, we’ll smile indeed; If not, ’tis true this parting was well made.
Forever and ever, goodbye, Brutus! If we meet again, we’ll indeed smile; If not, then this goodbye was indeed well made.
Why, then, lead on. O, that a man might know The end of this day’s business ere it come! But it sufficeth that the day will end, And then the end is known. Come, ho! away!
Well then, lead on. Oh, if only a man could know The end of today’s events before they happen! But it’s enough to know that the day will end, And then the end will be clear. Come on, let’s go!