Julius Caesar

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Caesar was chosen consul for the fourth time.

and went into Spain to make war with the sons of Pompey

who were very young.

The greatest battle fought between them in this civil war

was here, at Munda

and they put Caesar himself

in great danger of his life.

He slew 30 thousands of them in the fields

and lost of his own men one thousand of the best he had.

This was the last war

that Caesar made

and on his return to Rome,

the people nammed him

Perpetual Dictator.

Hail, Caesar!

Hail, Caesar!

Hail, Caesar!

Caesar!

Hail, Caesar! Caesar!

Caesar! Caesar!...

Caesar! Caesar!

Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home:

Is this a holiday?

You, Sir...

what trade art thou?

A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience;

which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.

Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes.

When they are in great danger, I recover them.

But wherefore art not in thy shop today?

Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work.

But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Caesar

and to rejoice in his triumph.

Wherefore rejoice?

What conquest brings he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,

to grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?

You blocks, you stones,

you worse than senseless things!

O you hard hearts,

you cruel men of Rome,

knew you not Pompey?

Many a time and oft have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,

to towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,

to see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:

and do you now cull out a holiday?

And do you now strew flowers in his way

that comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?

Be gone!

Run to your houses,

fall upon your knees,

Pray to the gods to intermit the plague

That needs must light on this ingratitude.

Ave, Ceasar!

Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.

Calpurnia!

Here, my lord.

stand you directly in Antonius' way, when he doth run his course.

- Antonius!

- Caesar, my lord?

Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, to touch Calpurnia;

For our elders say,...

the barren, touched in this holy chase,

shake off their sterile curse.

I shall remember:

When Caesar says 'do this, ' it is perform'd.

Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

Caesar!

Ha! who calls?

Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!

Who is it in the press that calls on me?

I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

cry 'Caesar!'

Speak...

Caesar is turn'd to hear.

Beware the ides of March.

Beware the ides of March.

What man is that?

A soothsayer bids you

beware the ides of March.

Set him before me; let me see his face.

Fellow, come from the throng;

look upon Caesar.

What say'st thou to me now?

Speak once again.

Beware the ides of March.

He is a dreamer;

let us leave him: pass.

Will you go see the order of the course?

- Not I.

- I pray you, do.

I am not gamesome:

I do lack some part of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; I'll leave you.

Brutus...

I do observe you now of late:

I have not from your eyes that gentleness and show of love

as I was wont to have:

You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand over your friend that loves you.

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, but by reflection.

I have heard, where many of the best respect in Rome,

except immortal Caesar,

speaking of Brutus and groaning underneath this age's yoke,

have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,

That you would have me seek into myself for that which is not in me?

What means this shouting?

I do fear, the people choose Caesar for their king.

Ay, do you fear it?

Then must I think you would not have it so.

I would not, Cassius;

yet I love him well.

I cannot tell...

what you and other men

think of this life;

but, for my single self,

I had as lief not be as live to be in awe of such a thing as I myself.

I was born free as Caesar; so were you:

We both have fed as well,

and we can both endure the winter's cold as well as he:

and this man Is now become a god,

and Cassius is a wretched creature

and must bend his body, if Caesar carelessly but nod on him.

He had a fever when he was in Spain,

and when the fit was on him,

I did mark how he did shake:

'tis true, this god did shake.

His coward lips did from their colour fly.

Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans mark him

and write his speeches in their books,

alas, it cried

'Give me some drink, Titinius,'

as a sick girl.

Ye gods, it doth amaze me

a man of such a feeble temper should so get the start

of the majestic world and bear the palm alone.

Another general shout!

I believe that these applauses are for some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar.

Why, man,

he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus,

and we petty men

walk under his huge legs

and peep about to find ourselves dishonourable graves.

Men

at some time are masters of their fates.

the fault, dear Brutus,

is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings

Brutus and Caesar:

what should be in that 'Caesar'?

Why should that name be sounded more than yours?

Write them together,

yours is as fair a name.

Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well.

Weigh them, it is as heavy.

Vonjure with 'em, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.

Now, in the names of all the gods at once,

upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,

that he is grown so great?

Age, thou art shamed!

When went there by an age,

since the great flood, when could they say till now,

that talk'd of Rome,

that her wide walls encompass'd but one man?

What you have said I will consider.

What you have to say I will with patience hear,

and find a time both meet to hear

and answer such high things.

Till then, my noble friend,

chew upon this:

Brutus had rather be a villager than to repute himself a son of Rome

under these hard conditions as this time is like to lay upon us.

I am glad that my weak words

Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.

But, look you, Cassius, the angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,

and all the rest look like a chidden train:

Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero looks with such ferret

and such fiery eyes as we have seen him in the Capitol,

being cross'd in conference by some senators

- Antonius!

- Caesar?

Let me have men about me that are fat;

sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights.

Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;

he thinks too much:

such men are dangerous.

Casca will tell us what the matter is.

He's not dangerous;

he is a noble Roman and well given.

Would he were fatter!

But I fear him not:

yet if my name were liable to fear,

I do not know the man I should avoid so soon as that spare Cassius.

He reads much;

he is a great observer

and he looks quite through the deeds of men:

he loves no plays, as thou dost, Antony; he hears no music.

Such men as he be never at heart's ease whiles they behold a greater than themselves,

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