JULIUS CAESAR. William Shakespeare
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say;
And know it now: The Senate have concluded
To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar.
If you shall send them word you will not come,
Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock
Apt to be render’d, for someone to say
“Break up the Senate till another time,
When Caesar’s wife shall meet with better dreams.”
If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper
“Lo, Caesar is afraid”?
Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love
To your proceeding bids me tell you this;
And reason to my love is liable.
CAESAR.
How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia!
I am ashamed I did yield to them.
Give me my robe, for I will go.
[Enter Publius, Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca,
Trebonius, and Cinna.]
And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
PUBLIUS.
Good morrow, Caesar.
CAESAR.
Welcome, Publius.—
What, Brutus, are you stirr’d so early too?—
Good morrow, Casca.—Caius Ligarius,
Caesar was ne’er so much your enemy
As that same ague which hath made you lean.—
What is’t o’clock?
BRUTUS.
Caesar, ‘tis strucken eight.
CAESAR.
I thank you for your pains and courtesy.
[Enter Antony.]
See! Antony, that revels long o’nights,
Is notwithstanding up.—Good morrow, Antony.
ANTONY.
So to most noble Caesar.
CAESAR.
Bid them prepare within:
I am to blame to be thus waited for.—
Now, Cinna;—now, Metellus;—what, Trebonius!
I have an hour’s talk in store for you:
Remember that you call on me to-day;
Be near me, that I may remember you.
TREBONIUS.
Caesar, I will. [Aside.] and so near will I be,
That your best friends shall wish I had been further.
CAESAR.
Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me;
And we, like friends, will straightway go together.
BRUTUS.
[Aside.] That every like is not the same, O Caesar,
The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. A street near the Capitol.
[Enter Artemidorus, reading paper.]
ARTEMIDORUS. “Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark well Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hast wrong’d Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Caesar. If thou be’st not immortal, look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover, Artemidorus.” Here will I stand till Caesar pass along, And as a suitor will I give him this. My heart laments that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation.— If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live; If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.
[Exit.]
SCENE IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of Brutus.
[Enter Portia and Lucius.]
PORTIA.
I pr’ythee, boy, run to the Senate-house;
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
Why dost thou stay?
LUCIUS.
To know my errand, madam.
PORTIA.
I would have had thee there, and here again,
Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there.—
[Aside.] O constancy, be strong upon my side!
Set a huge mountain ‘tween my heart and tongue!
I have a man’s mind, but a woman’s might.
How hard it is for women to keep counsel!—
Art thou here yet?
LUCIUS.
Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
And so return to you, and nothing else?
PORTIA.
Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,
For he went sickly forth: and take good note
What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
Hark, boy! what noise is that?
LUCIUS.
I hear none, madam.
PORTIA.
Pr’ythee, listen well:
I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
LUCIUS.
Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.
[Enter Artemidorus.]
PORTIA.
Come hither, fellow:
Which way hast thou been?
ARTEMIDORUS.
At mine own house, good lady.
PORTIA.
What is’t o’clock?
ARTEMIDORUS.
About the ninth hour, lady.
PORTIA.
Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
ARTEMIDORUS.
Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand
To see him pass on to the Capitol.
PORTIA.
Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?
ARTEMIDORUS.
That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar
To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,
I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
PORTIA.
Why, know’st thou any harm’s intended towards him?
ARTEMIDORUS.
None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance.
Good morrow to you.—Here the street is narrow:
The throng that follows Caesar at the heels,
Of Senators, of Praetors, common suitors,
Will crowd a feeble man almost to death:
I’ll get me to a place more void, and there
Speak to great