William Shakespeare Julius Caesar Act Iv Scene Iii

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• William Shakespeare: Julius Caesar, Act IV, Scene III

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Scene IIIBrutus’s tentEnter Brutus and CassiusCassiusThat you have wrong’d me doth appear in this: You have condemn’d and noted Lucius Pella For taking bribes here of the Sardians; Wherein my letters, praying on his side, Because I knew the man, were slighted off.BrutusYou wronged yourself to write in such a case.CassiusIn such a time as this it is not meet That every nice offence should bear his comment.BrutusLet me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemn’d to have an itching palm; To sell and mart your offices for gold To undeservers.CassiusI an itching palm! You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.BrutusThe name of Cassius honours this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.CassiusChastisement!BrutusRemember March, the ides of March remember: Did not great Julius bleed for justice’ sake? What villain touch’d his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.CassiusBrutus, bay not me; I’ll not endure it: you forget yourself, To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I, Older in practise, abler than yourself To make conditions.BrutusGo to; you are not, Cassius.CassiusI am.BrutusI say you are not.CassiusUrge me no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.BrutusAway, slight man!CassiusIs’t possible?BrutusHear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?CassiusO ye gods, ye gods! must I endure all this?BrutusAll this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break; Go show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I’ll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish.CassiusIs it come to this?BrutusYou say you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well: for mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.CassiusYou wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus; I said, an elder soldier, not a better: Did I say ‘better’?BrutusIf you did, I care not.CassiusWhen Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.BrutusPeace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him.CassiusI durst not!BrutusNo.CassiusWhat, durst not tempt him!BrutusFor your life you durst not!CassiusDo not presume too much upon my love; I may do that I shall be sorry for.BrutusYou have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am arm’d so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me: For I can raise no money by vile means: By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection: I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius? Should I have answer’d Caius Cassius so? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts; Dash him to pieces!CassiusI denied you not.BrutusYou did.CassiusI did not: he was but a fool that brought My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart: A friend should bear his friend’s infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.BrutusI do not, till you practise them on me.CassiusYou love me not.BrutusI do not like your faults.CassiusA friendly eye could never see such faults.BrutusA flatterer’s would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.CassiusCome, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is aweary of the world; Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother; Cheque’d like a bondman; all his faults observed, Set in a note-book, learn’d, and conn’d by rote, To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus’ mine, richer than gold: If that thou be’st a Roman, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike, as thou didst at Caesar; for, I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.BrutusSheathe your dagger: Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour. O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.CassiusHath Cassius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief, and blood ill-temper’d, vexeth him?BrutusWhen I spoke that, I was ill-temper’d too.CassiusDo you confess so much? Give me your hand.BrutusAnd my heart too.CassiusO Brutus!BrutusWhat’s the matter?CassiusHave not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful?BrutusYes, Cassius; and, from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He’ll think your mother chides, and leave you so.PoetWithinLet me go in to see the generals; There is some grudge between ’em, ’tis not meet They be alone.LuciliusWithinYou shall not come to them.PoetWithinNothing but death shall stay me.Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and LuciusCassiusHow now! what’s the matter?PoetFor shame, you generals! what do you mean? Love, and be friends, as two such men should be; For I have seen more years, I’m sure, than ye.CassiusHa, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rhyme!BrutusGet you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!CassiusBear with him, Brutus; ’tis his fashion.BrutusI’ll know his humour, when he knows his time: What should the wars do with these jigging fools? Companion, hence!CassiusAway, away, be gone.Exit PoetBrutusLucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.CassiusAnd come yourselves, and bring Messala with you Immediately to us.Exeunt Lucilius and TitiniusBrutusLucius, a bowl of wine!Exit LuciusCassiusI did not think you could have been so angry.BrutusO Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.CassiusOf your philosophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils.BrutusNo man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.CassiusHa! Portia!BrutusShe is dead.CassiusHow ‘scaped I killing when I cross’d you so? O insupportable and touching loss! Upon what sickness?BrutusImpatient of my absence, And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have made themselves so strong:—for with her death That tidings came;—with this she fell distract, And, her attendants absent, swallow’d fire.CassiusAnd died so?BrutusEven so.CassiusO ye immortal gods!Re-enter Lucius, with wine and taperBrutusSpeak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine. In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.CassiusMy heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. Fill, Lucius, till the wine o’erswell the cup; I cannot drink too much of Brutus’ love.BrutusCome in, Titinius! [Exit Lucius] Re-enter Titinius, with MessalaWelcome, good Messala. Now sit we close about this taper here, And call in question our necessities.CassiusPortia, art thou gone?BrutusNo more, I pray you. Messala, I have here received letters, That young Octavius and Mark Antony Come down upon us with a mighty power, Bending their expedition toward Philippi.MessalaMyself have letters of the selfsame tenor.BrutusWith what addition?MessalaThat by proscription and bills of outlawry, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus, Have put to death an hundred senators.BrutusTherein our letters do not well agree; Mine speak of seventy senators that died By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.CassiusCicero one!MessalaCicero is dead, And by that order of proscription. Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?BrutusNo, Messala.MessalaNor nothing in your letters writ of her?BrutusNothing, Messala.MessalaThat, methinks, is strange.BrutusWhy ask you? hear you aught of her in yours?MessalaNo, my lord.BrutusNow, as you are a Roman, tell me true.MessalaThen like a Roman bear the truth I tell: For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.BrutusWhy, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala: With meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now.MessalaEven so great men great losses should endure.CassiusI have as much of this in art as you, But yet my nature could not bear it so.BrutusWell, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently?CassiusI do not think it good.BrutusYour reason?CassiusThis it is: ‘Tis better that the enemy seek us: So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still, Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness.BrutusGood reasons must, of force, give place to better. The people ’twixt Philippi and this ground Do stand but in a forced affection; For they have grudged us contribution: The enemy, marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number up, Come on refresh’d, new-added, and encouraged; From which advantage shall we cut him off, If at Philippi we do face him there, These people at our back.CassiusHear me, good brother.BrutusUnder your pardon. You must note beside, That we have tried the utmost of our friends, Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe: The enemy increaseth every day; We, at the height, are ready to decline. There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.CassiusThen, with your will, go on; We’ll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.BrutusThe deep of night is crept upon our talk, And nature must obey necessity; Which we will niggard with a little rest. There is no more to say?CassiusNo more. Good night: Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.BrutusLucius!Enter LuciusMy gown.Exit LuciusFarewell, good Messala: Good night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose.CassiusO my dear brother! This was an ill beginning of the night: Never come such division ’tween our souls! Let it not, Brutus.BrutusEvery thing is well.CassiusGood night, my lord.BrutusGood night, good brother.Titinius, MessalaGood night, Lord Brutus.BrutusFarewell, every one. [Exeunt all but Brutus] Re-enter Lucius, with the gownGive me the gown. Where is thy instrument?LuciusHere in the tent.BrutusWhat, thou speak’st drowsily? Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o’er-watch’d. Call Claudius and some other of my men: I’ll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.LuciusVarro and Claudius!Enter Varro and ClaudiusVarroCalls my lord?BrutusI pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep; It may be I shall raise you by and by On business to my brother Cassius.VarroSo please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.BrutusI will not have it so: lie down, good sirs; It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. Look, Lucius, here’s the book I sought for so; I put it in the pocket of my gown.Varro and Claudius lie downLuciusI was sure your lordship did not give it me.BrutusBear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, And touch thy instrument a strain or two?LuciusAy, my lord, an’t please you.BrutusIt does, my boy: I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.LuciusIt is my duty, sir.BrutusI should not urge thy duty past thy might; I know young bloods look for a time of rest.LuciusI have slept, my lord, already.BrutusIt was well done; and thou shalt sleep again; I will not hold thee long: if I do live, I will be good to thee.Music, and a songThis is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber, Lay’st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night; I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee: If thou dost nod, thou break’st thy instrument; I’ll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night. Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn’d down Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.Enter the Ghost of CaesarHow ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. It comes upon me. Art thou any thing? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare? Speak to me what thou art.GhostThy evil spirit, Brutus.BrutusWhy comest thou?GhostTo tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.BrutusWell; then I shall see thee again?GhostAy, at Philippi.BrutusWhy, I will see thee at Philippi, then.Exit GhostNow I have taken heart thou vanishest: Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! Claudius!LuciusThe strings, my lord, are false.BrutusHe thinks he still is at his instrument. Lucius, awake!LuciusMy lord?BrutusDidst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?LuciusMy lord, I do not know that I did cry.BrutusYes, that thou didst: didst thou see any thing?LuciusNothing, my lord.BrutusSleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudius!To VarroFellow thou, awake!VarroMy lord?ClaudiusMy lord?BrutusWhy did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?Varro, ClaudiusDid we, my lord?BrutusAy: saw you any thing?VarroNo, my lord, I saw nothing.ClaudiusNor I, my lord.BrutusGo and commend me to my brother Cassius; Bid him set on his powers betimes before, And we will follow.Varro, ClaudiusIt shall be done, my lord.Exeunt

William Shakespeare: Julius Caesar, Act IV

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William Shakespeare: Julius Caesar, Act V, Scene III

• William Shakespeare: Julius Caesar, Act V, Scene III

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• Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
• The Twelve Dancing Princesses
• Current Events This Week: January 2023
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• Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
• The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales