All language subtitles for Julius.Caesar.1953.1080p.AC3.5.1.x.264-SbR.eng

[Laughter]

Hence! Home,
you idle creatures,

get you home!
Is this a holiday?

What trade art thou?

Why, sir, a carpenter.

Where is thy leather
apron and thy rule?

What dost thou with thy
best apparel on?

You, sir, what trade are you?

Truly, sir, in respect
of a fine workman,

I am but, as you
would say, a cobbler.

But what trade art thou?

Answer me directly.

A trade, sir,
that I hope I may use

with a safe conscience,

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

[Laughter]

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.

[Laughter]

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 climbed up
to walls and battlements,

to towers and windows,
yea, to chimney tops,

your infants in your arms,

and there have sat
the livelong day,

with patient expectation,

to see great Pompey
pass the streets of Rome.

And when you saw
his chariot but appear,

have you not made
a universal shout,

that Tiber trembled
underneath her banks

to hear the replication
of your sounds

made in her concave shores?

And do you now
put on your best attire?

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?

Begone!

Run to your houses,
fall upon your knees,

pray to the gods
to intermit the plague

that needs must light
on this ingratitude.

See whe'er their basest
mettle be not moved.

They vanish tongue-tied
in their guiltiness.

Go you down that way
toward the capitol;

this way will I.

Disrobe the images
if you do find them

decked with ceremonies.

May we do so?

You know it is
the feast of Lupercal.

It is no matter.

Let no images be hung
with Caesar's trophies.

These growing feathers
plucked from Caesar's wing

will make him fly
an ordinary pitch,

who else would soar
above the view of men

and keep us all
in servile fearfulness.

Man: Spoken like a traitor!

[Crowd cheering]

Calpurnia!

Peace, ho!
Caesar speaks!

Caesar: 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.

When Caesar says, "do this,"

it is performed.

Set on, and leave
no ceremony out.

Man: Caesar!

Ay? 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 turned to hear.

Man: 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 sayst thou to me now?

Speak once again.

Beware the ides of march.

He is a dreamer.
Let us leave him.

Pass! Pass!

[Fanfare playing]

[Crowd cheering]

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.

Cassius, be not deceived.
If I have veiled my look,

I turn the trouble of my
countenance merely upon myself.

Vexed I am of late

with passions
of some difference,

conceptions only proper
to myself,

which give some soil,
perhaps, to my behaviors.

But let not therefore
my good friends be grieved--

among which number,
Cassius, be you one--

nor construe any further
my neglect

than that poor Brutus,
with himself at war,

forgets the shows of love
to other men.

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

No, Cassius, for the eye
sees not itself

but by reflection,
by some other things.

'Tis just.

And it is very much
lamented, Brutus,

that you have no such
mirrors as will turn

your hidden worthiness
into your eye,

that you might see your shadow.

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 wished 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?

Therefore, good Brutus,
be prepared to hear;

and since you know
you cannot see yourself

so well as by reflection,
I, your glass,

will modestly
discover to yourself

that of yourself

which you yet know not of.

And be not jealous
on me, gentle Brutus.

Where I a common laughter,
and did use to stale

with ordinary oaths my love
to every new protester;

if you know that I profess
myself in banqueting

to all the rout,
then hold me dangerous.

[Crowd cheering]

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.

But what is it
you would impart to me?

If it be aught toward
the general good,

set honor in one eye
and death in the other

and I will look
on both indifferently;

for let the gods so speed me

as I love the name of honor
more than I fear death.

I know that virtue
to be in you, Brutus,

as well as I do know
your outward favor.

Well, honor is
the subject of my story.

I cannot tell what you
or 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.

For once, upon a raw
and gusty day,

the troubled Tiber
chafing at her shores,

Caesar said to me,
"dar'st thou, Cassius,

"now leap in with me
into this angry flood

and swim to yonder point?"

Upon the word,
accoutered as I was,

I plunged in
and bade him follow;

so indeed he did.

The torrent roared,
and we did buffet it

with lusty sinews,
throwing it aside

and stemming it with
hearts of controversy.

But ere we could arrive
the point proposed,

Caesar cried,

"help me, Cassius, or I sink!"

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.

[Crowd cheering]

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 color fly,

and that same eye

whose bend doth awe the world

did lose his luster.
I did hear him groan.

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.

[Crowd cheering]

Another general shout?

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
dishonorable 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;
Conjure with 'em,

"Brutus" will start a spirit
as soon as "Caesar."

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

upon what meat doth
this our Caesar feed

that he is grown so great?

Age, thou art shamed!

Rome, thou hast lost the breed

of noble bloods!

When went there by a time

since the great flood
but it was famed

for more than for one man?

When could they say, till now,

that talked of Rome,
that her wide walls

encompassed but one man?

O, you and I have
heard our fathers say

there was a Brutus once

that would have brooked
the eternal devil

to keep his state in Rome

as easily as a king.

That you do love me,
I am nothing jealous.

What you would work me to,
I have some aim.

How I have thought
of this and of these times

I shall recount hereafter.

For this present, I would not,

so with love
I might entreat you,

be any further moved.

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 stuck but thus much
show of fire from Brutus.

[Crowd cheering]

[Fanfare playing]

The games are done
and Caesar is returning.

Look you, Cassius,

the angry spot doth glow
on Caesar's brow,

and all the rest look
like a chidden train.

Casca will,
after his sour fashion,

tell us what hath
proceeded worthy note today.

Calpurnia's cheek is pale,

and Cicero looks
with such ferret

and such fiery eyes

as we have seen him
in the capitol,

being crossed in conference

by some senators.

Casca will tell us
what the matter is.

Antonius.

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.

Fear him not, Caesar,
he is not dangerous.

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.

Seldom he smiles,
and smiles in such a sort

as if he mocked himself
and scorned his spirit

that could be moved
to smile at anything.

Such men as he
be never at heart's ease

whiles they behold
a greater than themselves,

therefore are they
very dangerous.

I rather tell thee
what is to be feared

than what I fear,
for always I am Caesar.

Come on my right hand,
for this ear is deaf,

and tell me truly
what thou think'st of him.

[Fanfare playing]

Would you speak with me?

Ay, Casca. Tell us
what hath chanced today,

that Caesar looks so sad.

Why, you were with him,
were you not?

I should not then ask Casca

what had chanced.

Why, there was a crown
offered him;

and, being offered him,
he put it by

with the back of his hand, thus,

and then the people
fell a-shouting.

What was the second noise for?

Why, for that too.

They shouted thrice.
What was the last cry for?

Why, for that too.

Was the crown
offered him thrice?

Ay, marry, was 't,
and he put it by thrice,

every time gentler than other,

and with every putting-by
mine honest neighbors shouted.

Who offered him the crown?

Why, Antony.

Tell us the manner
of it, gentle Casca.

I can as well be hanged
as tell the manner of it.

It was mere foolery;
I did not Mark it.

I saw Mark Antony
offer him a crown--

yet 'twas not a crown neither,
'twas one of these coronets--

and, I told you, he put it by
once; But for all that,

to my thinking,
he would fain have had it.

Then he offered it to him again;

then he put it by again;
But to my thinking

he was very loath
to lay his fingers off it.

Then he offered it a third time.

He put it a third time by,
and still as he refused it

the rabblement hooted
and clapped their chapped hands,

and threw up
their sweaty nightcaps,

and uttered such a deal
of stinking breath

because Caesar refused the crown

that it had almost choked
Caesar, for he swooned

and fell down at it.
And for mine own part

I durst not laugh
for fear of opening my lips

and receiving the bad air.

What, did Caesar swoon?

He fell down
and foamed at the mouth

and was speechless.

'Tis very like.

He hath the falling sickness.

No, Caesar hath it not,
but you and I,

and honest Casca,

we have the falling sickness.

I know not what
you mean by that,

but I am sure Caesar fell down.

What said he when
he came unto himself?

When he came to himself again,

he said if he had done or said

anything amiss,

he desired their worships

to think it was his infirmity.

Three or four wenches
where I stood cried,

"alas, good soul!"

And forgave him with
all their hearts.

But there's no heed
to be taken of them;

if Caesar had stabbed
their mothers

they would have done no less.

And after that,
he came thus sad away?

Ay.

Did Cicero say anything?

Ay, he spoke Greek.

To what effect?

Nay, and I tell you that,

I'll ne'er look you
in the face again.

But those that understood him

smiled at one another
and shook their heads;

but, for mine own part,
it was Greek to me.

I could tell you more news too.

Marullus and flavius,

for pulling scarves
off Caesar's images,

are put to silence.

Fare you well.

There was more foolery yet,

if I could remember it.

Will you sup with me
tonight, Casca?

No. I am promised forth.

Will you dine with me tomorrow?

Ay, if I be alive,
and your mind hold,

and your dinner
worth the eating.

Good; I will expect you.

Do so: Farewell, both.

What a blunt fellow
is this grown to be!

He was quick mettle
when he went to school.

So is he now

in execution of any
bold or noble enterprise.

This rudeness is a sauce
to his good wit,

which gives men stomach
to digest his words

with better appetite.

And so it is...

For this time I will leave you:

Tomorrow if you
please to speak with me,

I will come home to you;

or, if you will,
come home to me,

and I will wait for you.

I will do so: Till then,
think of the world.

Well, Brutus, thou art noble;

yet I see thy honorable mettle
may be wrought

from that it is disposed:

Therefore it is meet
that noble minds keep ever

with their likes;

for who so firm
that cannot be seduced?

Caesar doth bear me hard,
but he loves Brutus:

If I were Brutus now
and he were Cassius,

he should not humor me.

I will this night,
in several hands,

in at his windows throw,

as if they came
from several citizens,

writings, all tending
to the great opinion

that Rome holds of his name,

wherein obscurely Caesar's
ambition shall be glanced at:

And after this
let Caesar seat him sure;

for we will shake him,

or worse days endure.

[Thunder]

Good even, Casca:

Why are you breathless?

And why stare you so?

Are not you moved,
when all the sway of earth

shakes like a thing unfirm?

O Cicero, I have seen tempests,

when the scolding winds
have rived the knotty oaks,

and I have seen the ambitious
ocean swell and rage and foam,

to be exalted
with the threat'ning clouds;

but never till tonight,
never till now,

did I go through
a tempest dropping fire.

Either there is
a civil strife in heaven,

or else the world
too saucy with the gods

incenses them
to send destruction.

Why, saw you anything
more wonderful?

A common slave--
you know him well by sight--

held up his left hand,
which did flame and burn

like 20 torches joined,

and there were drawn upon a heap

a hundred ghastly women

transformed with their fear,
who swore they saw

men all in fire
walk up and down the streets.

And yesterday
the bird of night did sit

even at noonday
upon the marketplace,

hooting and shrieking.

When these prodigies
do so conjointly meet,

let not men say

"these are their reasons:
They are natural,"

for, I believe,
they are portentous things

unto the climate
that they point upon.

Come Caesar to
the capitol tomorrow?

He doth; For he did bid
Antonius send word to you

he would be there tomorrow.

Good night then, Casca:

This disturbed sky
is not to walk in.

Farewell, Cicero.

[Thunder]

Who's there?

A Roman.

Casca, by your voice.

Cassius, what night is this?

A very pleasing night
to honest men.

Who ever knew
the heavens menace so?

Those that have known the earth

so full of faults.

You are dull, Casca,
and those sparks of life

that should be
in a Roman you do want,

or else you use not.

You look pale and gaze

and put on fear and
cast yourself in wonder,

to see the strange impatience

of the heavens.

Now could I, Casca,
name to thee a man

most like this dreadful night,

that thunders, lightens,
opens graves, and roars;

a man no mightier
than thyself or me.

'Tis Caesar that you mean;

is it not, Cassius?

Let it be who it is.

Indeed they say
the senators tomorrow

mean to establish
Caesar as a king;

and he shall wear his crown

by sea and land,

in every place
save here in Italy.

I know where I will
wear this dagger then:

Cassius from bondage
will deliver Cassius.

That part of tyranny
that I do bear

I can shake off at pleasure.

So can I:

So every bondman in his own hand

bears the power

to cancel his captivity.

And why should Caesar
be a tyrant then?

Poor man! I know
he would not be a wolf

but that he knows
the Romans are but sheep:

He were no lion,
were not Romans hinds.

They that with haste
will make a mighty fire

begin it with weak straws:

What trash is Rome,
what rubbish and what offal,

that it serves
for the base matter

to illuminate
so vile a thing as Caesar!

But, o grief,
where hast thou led me?

I perchance speak this
before a willing bondman.

You speak to Casca,

and to such a man that is
no fleering telltale.

Here is my hand:

And I will set this foot of mine

as far as who goes farthest.

There's a bargain made.

Stand close a while.

[Thunder]

'Tis Cinna;

I do know him by his gait;

he is a friend.

Cinna, where haste you so?

To find out you.

Who's that?
Metellus Cimber?

No. It is Casca, one
incorporate to our attempts.

Am I not stayed for, Cinna?

Yes, you are. O Cassius,

if you could but win

the noble Brutus to our party--

be you content.

Good Cinna, take this paper,

and look you lay it
in the praetor's chair,

where Brutus may but find it;

and throw this in at his window;

set this up in wax
upon old Brutus' statue:

All this done,
repair to Pompey's porch,

where you shall find us.

Is Decius Brutus
and Trebonius there?

All but Metellus Cimber;

and he's gone
to seek you at your house.

Come, Casca, you and I
will yet ere day

see Brutus at his house:

Three parts of him
is ours already,

and the man entire
upon the next encounter

yields him ours.

[Thunder]

I cannot, by the progress
of the stars,

give guess how near to day.

Lucius.

Awake, I say!

Lucius!

I would it were my fault
to sleep so soundly.

Called you, my lord?

Get me a taper
in my study, Lucius:

When it is lighted,
come and call me here.

I will, my lord.

It must be by his death:

And, for my part,

I know no personal cause
to spurn at him,

but for the general--
he would be crowned:

How that might
change his nature,

there's the question.

For it is the bright day
that brings forth the adder;

and that craves wary walking...
Crown him!--That!

And then, I Grant,
we put a sting in him,

that at his will
he may do danger with.

The abuse of greatness

is when it disjoins
remorse from power:

And, to speak truth of Caesar,

I have not known when
his affections swayed

more than his reason.

But 'tis a common proof

that lowliness is
young ambition's ladder,

whereto the climber-upward
turns his face;

but when he once attains
the upmost round,

he then unto the ladder
turns his back,

looks in the clouds,

scorning the base degrees
by which he did ascend:

So Caesar may;

then, lest he may, prevent.

And, since the quarrel will bear
no color for the thing he is,

fashion it thus:

That what he is, augmented,

would run to these
and these extremities:

And therefore think him
as a serpent's egg

which hatched would as his kind
grow mischievous,

and kill him in the shell.

The taper burneth
in your closet, sir.

Searching the window for a flint

I found this paper
thus sealed up,

and I am sure
it did not lie there

when I went to bed.

Is not tomorrow,
boy, the ides of march?

I know not, sir.

Look in the calendar
and bring me word.

I will, sir.

"Brutus, thou sleep'st:

"Awake and see thyself.

"Shall Rome, et cetera?
Speak, strike, redress...

Brutus, thou sleep'st:
Awake."

Such instigations
have been often dropped

where I have took them up.

"Shall Rome, et cetera?"

Thus must I piece it out:

Shall Rome stand
under one man's awe?

What? Rome?

My ancestors did
from the streets of Rome

the tarquin drive,
when he was called a king.

"Speak, strike, redress."

Am I entreated
to speak and strike?

O Rome, I make thee promise,

if the redress will follow,

thou receivest thy full
petition at the hand of Brutus.

Sir, march is wasted 15 days.

'Tis good.

[Knock on door]

Go to the gate;
Somebody knocks.

Since Cassius first did
whet me against Caesar,

I have not slept.

Between the acting
of a dreadful thing

and the first motion

all the interim
is like a phantasma

or a hideous dream:

The genius
and the mortal instruments

are then in council,

and the state of man
like to a little kingdom

suffers then the nature
of an insurrection.

I fear we are too bold
upon your rest:

Good morrow, Brutus,
do we trouble you?

I have been up this hour,
awake all night.

Know I these men
that come along with you?

Yes, every one of them,

and no man here but honors you;

and everyone doth wish

you had but that
opinion of yourself

which every noble Roman
bears of you.

This is Trebonius.

He is welcome hither.

This, Decius Brutus.

He is welcome too.

This, Casca;
This, Cinna;

and this, Metellus Cimber.

They are all welcome.

What watchful cares
do interpose themselves

betwixt your eyes and the night?

Shall I entreat a word?

Here lies the east:
Doth not the day break here?

No.

O, pardon, sir, it doth,

and yon gray lines
that fret the clouds

are messengers of day.

You shall confess
that you are both deceived.

Here, as I point my sword,
the sun arises.

Give me your hands all over,
one by one.

And let us swear our resolution.

No, not an oath:

If not the face of men,
the sufferance of our souls,

the time's abuse--

if these be motives,
we break off betimes,

and every man hence
to his idle bed;

so let high-sighted tyranny
range on

till each man drop by lottery.

What need we any spur
but our own cause

to prick us to redress?

What other bond
than secret Romans

that have spoke the word,
and will not palter?

What other oath than honesty
to honesty engage

that this shall be
or we will fall for it?

Swear priests and cowards
and men cautelous,

old feeble carrions
and such suffering souls

that welcome wrongs;

unto bad causes swear
such creatures as men doubt:

But do not stain the even virtue
of our enterprise,

nor the insuppressive
mettle of our spirits,

to think that or our cause
or our performance

did need an oath.

But what of Cicero?
Shall we sound him?

I think he will stand
very strong with us.

O, let us have him,

for his silver hairs
will purchase us a good opinion

and buy men's voices
to commend our deeds.

Let us not leave him out.

O, name him not:

For he will never
follow anything

that other men begin.

Then leave him out.

Indeed he is not fit.

Shall no man else be
touched but only Caesar?

Decius, well urged:

I think it is not
meet Mark Antony,

so well beloved of Caesar,

should outlive Caesar:

We shall find of him
a shrewd contriver;

and you know his means,
if he improve them,

may well stretch so far
as to annoy us all:

Which to prevent,

let Antony and Caesar
fall together.

Our course will seem too bloody,

Caius Cassius,

to cut the head off
and then hack the limbs,

like wrath in death
and envy afterwards;

for Antony is
but a limb of Caesar;

let us be sacrificers,
but not butchers, Caius.

We all stand up
against the spirit of Caesar,

and in the spirit of men
there is no blood:

O, that we then could come
by Caesar's spirits,

and not dismember Caesar.

But, alas,
Caesar must bleed for it.

And, gentle friends,

let's kill him boldly,
but not wrathfully;

let's carve him
as a dish fit for the gods,

not hew him as
a carcass fit for hounds.

And for Mark Antony,
think not of him;

for he can do no more
than Caesar's arm

when Caesar's head is off.

Yet I do fear him,

for in the engrafted love
he bears to Caesar--

alas, good Cassius,
do not think of him:

If he love Caesar,

all that he can do
is to himself,

take thought and die for Caesar:

And that were much he should,

for he is given
to sports, to wildness

and much company.

There is no fear in him;

let him not die;

for he will live and laugh

at this hereafter.

[Clock strikes]

'Tis time to part.

The morning comes upon's:
We'll leave you, Brutus.

But it is doubtful yet

whether Caesar will come forth
today or no;

for he is superstitious
grown of late.

It may be these
apparent prodigies,

the unaccustomed terror
of the night,

and the persuasion
of his augurers

may hold him
from the capitol today.

Never fear that:

If he be so resolved,
I can o'ersway him;

for he loves to hear

that unicorns may
be betrayed with trees,

lions with toils
and men with flatterers:

But when I tell him
he hates flatterers,

he says he does,
being then most flattered.

Let me work; And I will
bring him to the capitol.

Nay, we will all of us
be there to fetch him.

By the eighth hour:
Is that the uttermost?

Be that the uttermost,

and fail not then.

Caius Ligarius doth
bear Caesar hard,

who rated him
for speaking well of Pompey:

I wonder none of you
have thought of him.

Now, good Metellus,
go along by him:

He loves me well,
and I have given him reasons;

send him but hither,
and I'll fashion him.

And, friends,
disperse yourselves:

But all remember
what you have said

and show yourselves true Romans.

Good gentlemen,
look fresh and merrily;

let not our looks
put on our purposes;

and so, good morrow
to you every one.

Portia, what mean you?
Wherefore rise you now?

It is not for your health

thus to commit
your weak condition

to the raw cold morning.

Nor for yours neither.

You've ungently, Brutus,
stole from my bed:

And yesternight at supper

you suddenly arose
and walked about,

musing and sighing,
with your arms across;

and when I asked you
what the matter was,

you stared upon me
with ungentle looks:

I urged you further;

and then you scratched your head

and too impatiently
stamped with your foot:

Yet I insisted, yet
you answered not,

but with an angry
wafture of your hand

gave sign for me to leave you:

So I did, fearing to strengthen

that impatience

which seemed too much enkindled,

and withal hoping
it was but an effect

of humor,

which sometime hath his
hour with every man.

It will not let you eat,

nor talk, nor sleep,

and, could it work so
much upon your shape

as it hath much prevailed

on your condition,

I should not know you Brutus.

Dear my lord, make me acquainted

with your cause of grief.

I am not well in health,
and that is all.

Brutus is wise,

and, were he not in health,

he would embrace
the means to come by it.

Why, so I do:

Good portia, go to bed.

Is Brutus sick,
and is it physical

to walk unbraced
and suck up the humors

of the dank morning?

What, is Brutus sick,

and will he steal
out of his wholesome bed,

to dare the vile
contagion of the night

and add unto his sickness?

No, my Brutus;

you have some sick offense
within your mind,

which by the right
and virtue of my place

I ought to know of:

And, upon my knees, I charm you,

by my once commended beauty,
by all your vows of love

and that great vow

which did incorporate
and make us one,

that you unfold to me,
your self, your half,

why you are heavy--

and what men tonight
have had resort to you;

for here have been
some six or seven,

who did hide their faces
even from darkness.

Kneel not, gentle portia.

I should not kneel,
if you were gentle Brutus.

Within the bond of marriage,
tell me, Brutus,

is it excepted
I should know no secrets

that appertain to you?

Am I your self but, as it were,

in sort or limitation,

to keep with you at meals,
comfort your bed,

and talk to you sometimes?

Dwell I but in the suburbs
of your good pleasure?

If it be no more,

portia is Brutus' harlot,
not his wife.

You are my true
and honorable wife,

as dear to me
as are the ruddy drops

that visit my sad heart.

If this were true,

then should I know this secret.

I Grant I am a woman,
but withal a woman

that lord Brutus took to wife:

I Grant I am a woman,

but withal a woman well reputed,

cato's daughter.

Think you I am
no stronger than my sex,

being so fathered
and so husbanded?

Tell me your counsels,
I will not disclose 'em.

[Knock on door]

Portia, go in a while;

and by and by
thy bosom shall partake

the secrets of my heart:

All my engagements
I will construe to thee,

all the charactery
of my sad brows.

Here is a sick man
that would speak with you.

Ciaus Ligarius,
that Metellus spake of.

Boy, stand aside.

Vouchsafe good morrow
from a feeble tongue.

O what a time
have you chose out,
brave Caius,

to wear a kerchief.

Would you were not sick.

I am not sick,

if Brutus have in hand

any exploit worthy
the name of honor.

Such an exploit
have I in hand, Ligarius,

had you a healthful ear
to hear of it.

By all the gods
the Romans bow before,

I here disgard my sickness.

Bid me run, and I
will strive with

things impossible,

yea, get the better of them,

for it sufficeth

that Brutus leads me on.

What's to do?

A piece of work

that will make sick men whole.

But are not some whole
that we must make sick?

That must we also.

Caesar.

They murder Caesar.

They murder Caesar!

They murder Caesar!

They murder Caesar!

Who's within?

Who's within?

My lord?

Go bid the priests
do present sacrifice,

and bring me their
opinions of success.

I will, my lord.

Nor heaven nor earth

have been at peace tonight.

What mean you, Caesar?

Think you to walk forth?

You shall not stir
out of your house today.

Caesar shall forth:

The things that threatened me

ne'er looked but at my back;

when they shall see
the face of Caesar,

they are vanished.

Caesar, I never stood
on ceremonies,

yet now they fright me.

There is one within,

besides the things
that we have heard and seen,

recounts most horrid sights
seen by the watch.

A lioness hath whelped
in the streets;

and graves have yawned
and yielded up their dead;

fierce fiery warriors
fought upon the clouds,

and ghosts did shriek
and squeal about the streets.

O Caesar! These things
are beyond all use,

and I do fear them.

Yet Caesar shall go forth;

for these predictions
are to the world in general

as to Caesar.

When beggars die, there
are no comets seen;

the heavens themselves

Blaze forth the death
of princes.

Cowards die many times
before their deaths;

the Valiant never taste
of death but once.

Of all the wonders
that I yet have heard,

it seems to me most strange
that men should fear,

seeing that death,
a necessary end,

will come when it will come.

What say the augurers?

They would not have you
to stir forth today.

Plucking the entrails
of an offering forth,

they could not find a heart
within the beast.

The gods do this
in shame of cowardice:

Caesar should be a beast
without a heart

if he should stay
at home today for fear.

No, Caesar shall not:

Danger knows full well

that Caesar is more
dangerous than he,

and Caesar shall go forth.

Alas, my lord,

your wisdom is consumed
in confidence.

Do not go forth today:

Call it my fear that
keeps you in the house

and not your own.

We'll send Mark Antony
to the senate house,

and he shall say
you are not well today:

Let me prevail in this.

Mark Antony shall say
I am not well...

And, for thy humor,
I will stay at home.

Here's Decius Brutus,
he shall tell them so.

Caesar, all hail!

Good morrow, worthy Caesar:

I come to fetch you
to the senate house.

And you are come
in very happy time,

to bear my greeting
to the senators

and tell them that
I will not come today:

Cannot, is false,
that I dare not, falser:

I will not come today:
Tell them so, Decius.

Say he is sick.

Shall Caesar send a lie?

Have I in conquest

stretched mine arm so far,

to be afeared to tell
graybeards the truth?

Decius, go tell them
Caesar will not come.

Most mighty Caesar,
let me know some cause,

lest I be laughed at
when I tell them so.

The cause is in my will:

I will not come;

that is enough to
satisfy the senate.

But for your private
satisfaction,

because I love you,
I will let you know.

Calpurnia here, my wife,
stays me at home:

She dreamt tonight
she saw my statue,

which like a fountain
with an hundred spouts

did run pure blood,

and many lusty Romans
came smiling

and did bathe their hands in it:

And these does she
apply for warnings

and portents and evils imminent;

and on her knee hath begged

that I will stay at home today.

This dream is all
amiss interpreted;

it was a vision
fair and fortunate:

Your statue spouting blood
in many pipes,

in which so many
smiling Romans bathed,

signifies that from you

great Rome shall suck
reviving blood,

and that great men shall
press for tinctures,

stains, relics, and cognizance.

This by Calpurnia's
dream is signified.

And this way have
you well expounded it.

I have, when you have heard

what I can 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 rendered,

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.

How foolish do your fears
seem now, Calpurnia!

I am ashamed
I did yield to them.

Give me my robe, for I will go.

And look where Publius
is come to fetch me.

Good morrow, Caesar.

Welcome, Publius.

What, Brutus,

are you stirred so early too?

Good morrow, Casca:

Ciaus Ligarius,

Caesar was ne'er
so much your enemy

as that same ague which
hath made you lean.

What is 't o'clock?

Caesar, 'tis after 8:00.

See! Antony, that revels
long a-nights,

is notwithstanding up.

Good morrow, Antony.

So to most noble Caesar.

I am to blame
to be thus waited for.

Good friends, go in,
and taste some wine with me;

and we like friends will
straightway go together.

Now, Cinna!
Now, Metellus!

What, Trebonius!

I have an hour's talk
in store for you;

remember that you
call on me today:

Be near me, that I
may remember you.

Caesar, I will.

"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 wronged
Caius Ligarius.

"There is but one mind
in all these men,

"and it is bent against Caesar.

"If thou beest not immortal,
look about you:

"Security gives way
to conspiracy.

"The mighty gods defend thee!

Artemidorus."

Here will I stand
till Caesar pass along.

If thou read this, o Caesar,
thou mayest live;

if not, the fates
with traitors do contrive.

The ides of march are come.

Ay, Caesar;
But not gone.

Hail, Caesar!
Read this schedule.

Trebonius doth desire you

to o'er read,
at your best leisure,

this his humble suit.

O Caesar, read mine first;

for mine's a suit that
touches Caesar nearer.

Read it, great Caesar.

What touches us ourself
shall be last served.

Delay not, Caesar,
read it instantly.

What, is the fellow mad?

Sirrah, give place.

What, urge you your petitions
in the street?

Come to the capitol.

I wish your enterprise
today may thrive.

What enterprise, Popilius?

Fare you well.

What said Popilius Lena?

He wished today
our enterprise might thrive.

I fear our purpose
is discovered.

Look how he makes
to Caesar: Mark him.

Brutus, what shall be done?

If this be known,

Cassius or Caesar
never shall turn back,

for I will slay myself.

Cassius, be constant.

Popilius Lena speaks
not of our purposes;

for, look, he smiles,
and Caesar doth not change.

Trebonius knows his time;

for, look you, Brutus,

he draws Mark Antony
out of the way.

Where is Metellus Cimber?

Let him go,

and presently prefer
his suit to Caesar.

He is addressed.
Press near and second him.

Casca, you are the first
that rears your hand.

Are we all ready?

What is now amiss

that Caesar and his senate
must redress?

Most high, most mighty,

and most puissant Caesar,

Metellus Cimber

throws before thy seat

an humble heart--

I must prevent thee, Cimber.

These couchings
and these lowly courtesies

might fire the blood
of ordinary men,

and turn preordinance
and first decree

into the law of children.

Be not fond to think that Caesar
bears such rebel blood

that will be thawed
from the true quality

by that which melteth fools,

I mean, sweet words,

low, crooked curtsies
and base spaniel-fawning.

Thy brother by decree
is banished:

If thou dost bend and pray
and Fawn for him,

I spurn thee like a cur
out of my way.

Know, Caesar doth not wrong,

nor without cause
will he be satisfied.

Is there no voice

more worthy than my own,

to sound more sweetly
in great Caesar's ear

for the repealing
of my banished brother?

I kiss thy hand,

but not in flattery, Caesar;

desiring thee
that Publius Cimber

may have an immediate
freedom of repeal.

What, Brutus!

Pardon, Caesar;
Caesar, pardon:

As low as to thy foot
doth Cassius fall,

to beg enfranchisement
for Publius Cimber.

I could be well moved,
if I were as you;

if I could pray to move,
prayers would move me:

But I am constant
as the northern star,

of whose true fixed
and resting quality

there is no fellow
in the firmament.

The skies are painted
with unnumbered sparks;

they're all fire
and every one doth shine;

but there's but one in all
doth hold his place:

So in the world;
'Tis furnished well with men,

and men are flesh and blood,
and apprehensive;

yet in the number
I do know but one

that unassailable
holds on his rank,

unshaked of motion:

And that I am he, let me
a little show it, even in this:

That I was constant
Cimber should be banished,

and constant do remain
to keep him so.

O Caesar!

Hence! Wilt thou
lift up Olympus?

Great Caesar!

Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?

Speak, hands, for me!

Et tu, brute?

Then fall, Caesar!

Liberty! Freedom!
Tyranny is dead!

Run hence, proclaim,
cry it about the streets.

Some to the common pulpits,

and cry out

"Liberty, freedom,
and enfranchisement!"

People, and senators,
be not affrighted;

fly not; Stand still:

Ambition's debt is paid.

Go to the pulpit, Brutus.

Where's Publius?

Here, quite confounded
with this mutiny.

Stand fast together,

lest some friend of
Caesar's should chance--

talk not of standing.

Publius, good cheer;

there is no harm intended
to your person,

nor to no Roman else:
So tell them, Publius.

Where is Antony?

Fled to his house amazed:

Men, wives, and children stare,

cry out and run
as it were doomsday.

Now leave us, Publius,

lest that the people
rushing on us

should do your age
some mischief.

Do so: And let no man
abide this deed

but we the doers.

Fates, we will know
your pleasures:

That we shall die, we know;

'tis but the time,
and drawing days out,

that men stand upon.

Why, he that cuts off
20 years of life

cuts off so many years
of fearing death.

Grant that,
and then is death a benefit:

So are we Caesar's friends,

that have abridged his time
of fearing death.

Stoop, Romans, stoop,

and let us bathe our hands
in Caesar's blood.

How many ages hence

shall this our lofty scene

be acted o'er

in states unborn

and accents yet unknown!

How many times

shall Caesar bleed in sport

that now on Pompey's basis

lies along no worthier
than the dust!

So oft as that shall be,

so often shall the knot of us

be called the men

that gave their country Liberty.

Soft! Who comes here?

A friend of Antony's.

Thus, Brutus,
did my master bid me kneel;

thus did Mark Antony
bid me fall down;

and, being prostrate,
thus he bade me say:

Brutus is noble, wise,
Valiant, and honest.

Caesar was mighty,
bold, royal, and loving:

Say I love Brutus
and I honor him;

say I feared Caesar,
honored him and loved him.

If Brutus will vouchsafe

that Antony
may safely come to him

and be resolved how Caesar
hath deserved to lie in death,

Mark Antony shall not
love Caesar dead

so well as Brutus living,

but will follow the fortunes
and affairs of noble Brutus

through the hazards
of this untrod state

with all true faith.

So says my master Antony.

Thy master is a wise
and Valiant Roman;

I never thought him worse.

Tell him, so please him
come unto this place,

he shall be satisfied;

and, by my honor,
depart untouched.

I'll fetch him presently.

I know that we shall
have him well to friend.

I wish we may:

But yet I have a mind
that fears him much,

and my misgiving
still falls shrewdly

to the purpose.

Welcome, Mark Antony.

O mighty Caesar!
Dost thy lie so low?

Are all thy conquests,
glories, triumphs, spoils,

shrunk to this little measure?

Fare thee well.

I know not, gentlemen,
what you intend,

who else must be let blood,
who else is rank:

If I myself,

there is no hour so fit
as Caesar's death hour,

nor no instrument
of half that worth

as those your swords,

made rich with the most
noble blood of all this world.

I do beseech ye,
if you bear me hard,

now, whilst your purpled hands
do reek and smoke,

fulfill your pleasure.

Live a thousand years,

I shall not find myself
so apt to die:

No place will please me so,
no mean of death,

as here by Caesar,
and by you cut off,

the choice and master
spirits of this age.

Oh, Antony! Beg not
your death of us.

Though now we must
appear bloody and cruel,

as by our hands
and this our present act

you see we do,

yet see you but our hands

and this the bleeding
business they have done.

Our hearts you see not.
They are pitiful;

and pity to the general
wrong of Rome--

as fire drives out fire,
so pity pity--

hath done this deed on Caesar.

Your voice shall be
as strong as any man's

in the disposing
of new dignities.

Only be patient

till we have
appeased the multitude,

beside themselves with
fear, and then we will

deliver you the cause why I,

that did love Caesar
when I struck him,

have thus proceeded.

I doubt not of your wisdom.

Let each man render me
his bloody hand.

First, Marcus Brutus,
do I shake with you;

next, Caius Cassius,
do I take your hand;

now, Decius Brutus, yours;

yours, Metellus;

yours, Cinna;

and my Valiant Casca, yours;

though last, not least in love,

yours, good Trebonius.

Gentlemen, all--

alas, what shall I say?

My credit now stands
on such slippery ground

that one of two bad ways
you must conceit me,

either a coward or a flatterer.

That I did love thee,
Caesar, o, 'tis true!

If then thy spirit
look upon us now,

shall it now grieve thee
dearer than thy death

to see thy Antony
making his peace,

shaking the bloody fingers
of thy foes--

most noble!--
In the presence of thy corpse?

Had I as many eyes
as thou hast wounds,

weeping as fast as
they stream forth thy blood,

it would become me
better than to close

in terms of friendship
with thine enemies.

Mark Antony--

pardon me, Caius Cassius.

The enemies of Caesar
shall say this;

then in a friend
it is cold modesty.

I blame you not
for praising Caesar so,

but what compact mean you
to have with us?

Will you be pricked
in number of our friends,

or shall we on
and not depend on you?

Therefore I took your hands,

but was indeed
swayed from the point

by looking down on Caesar.

Friends am I with you all,
and love you all,

upon this hope,

that you shall give me reasons

why and wherein
Caesar was dangerous.

Or else were this
a savage spectacle.

Our reasons are so full
of good regard

that were you, Antony,
the son of Caesar,

you should be satisfied.

That's all I seek,
and am moreover suitor

that I may produce his body

to the marketplace,

and in the pulpit,
as becomes a friend,

speak in the order
of his funeral.

You shall, Mark Antony.

Brutus, a word with you.

Do not consent

that Antony speak
in his funeral.

Know you how much
the people may be moved

by that which he will utter?

By your pardon: I will myself
into the pulpit first

and show the reason
of our Caesar's death.

What Antony shall speak,

I will protest he speaks
by leave and by permission,

and that we are contented
Caesar shall have

all true rites
and lawful ceremonies.

It shall advantage more
than do us wrong.

I know not what may fall.

I like it not.

Mark Antony, here,

take you Caesar's body.

You shall not in your
funeral speech blame us,

but speak all good
you can devise of Caesar,

and say you do it
by our permission.

Else shall you not have
any hand at all

about his funeral.

And you shall speak
in the same pulpit

whereto I am going,

after my speech is ended.

Be it so.

I do desire no more.

[Crowd shouting]

O, pardon me,
thou bleeding piece of earth,

that I am meek and gentle
with these butchers!

Thou art the ruins
of the noblest man

that ever lived
in the tide of times.

Woe to the hand
that shed this costly blood!

Over thy wounds
now do I prophesy--

which, like dumb mouths,
do ope their Ruby lips

to beg the voice and utterance
of my tongue--

a curse shall light
upon the limbs of men;

domestic fury
and fierce civil strife

shall cumber
all the parts of Italy;

blood and destruction
shall be so in use

and dreadful objects so familiar

that mothers shall but smile
when they behold

their infants quartered
with the hands of war,

all pity choked
with custom of fell deed;

and Caesar's spirit,
ranging for revenge,

with ate by his side
come hot from hell,

shall in these confines
with a monarch's voice

cry "havoc!"

And let slip the dogs of war,

that this foul deed
shall smell above the earth

with carrion men,
groaning for burial.

Caesar!
Caesar!

[Crowd shouting]

Romans, countrymen...

I will hear Brutus speak!

Hear me for my cause...

Please! Silence!

Brutus speaks.

Romans, countrymen,

be patient till the last.

Hear me for my cause,

and be silent that you may hear.

Believe me for mine honor,

and have respect to mine honor,
that you may believe.

Censure me in your wisdom,
and awake your senses,

that you may the better judge.

Caesar! Caesar!

Caesar! Caesar!

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?

No!
No!

No! No! No!

As Caesar loved me,
I weep for him;

as he was fortunate,
I rejoice at it;

as he was Valiant, I honor him;

but, as he was ambitious,
I slew him.

There is tears for his love;

joy for his fortune;

honor for his valor;

and death for his ambition.

Who is here so base
that would be a bondsman?

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.

None, Brutus, none!

None! None!

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 offenses enforced
for which he suffered death.

[Woman screams]

[Murmuring]

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 Caesar
for the good of Rome,

I have the same dagger
for myself

when it shall please
my country to need my death.

Live, Brutus, live, live!

Live, Brutus!
Live, Brutus!

Bring him with triumph
home unto his house.

Give him a statue
with his ancestors.

Live!

Let him be Caesar!

Caesar's better parts
shall be crowned in Brutus.

Brutus! Brutus!
Brutus!

Good countrymen--

peace, silence!

Brutus speaks.

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 allowed to make.

I do entreat you,
not a man depart,

save I alone,
till Antony hath spoke.

Brutus! Brutus!
Brutus!

Stay, ho, and let us
hear Mark Antony.

Let him go up into
the public chair.

We'll hear him.
Noble Antony, go up.

For Brutus' sake
I am beholding to you.

What does he say of Brutus?

He says, for Brutus' sake

he finds himself
beholding to us all.

'Twere best he speak
no harm of Brutus here.

This Caesar was a tyrant.

Nay, that's certain.

We are blest that Rome
is rid of him.

You gentle Romans--

gentle Romans, hear me.

[Shouting]

Friends, Romans, countrymen,
lend me your ears.

[Shouting stops]

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 answered it.

Here, under leave of Brutus
and the rest--

for Brutus is an honorable man,

so are they all,
all honorable 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 honorable 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 honorable 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 honorable 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.

Methinks there is
much reason in his saying.

If thou consider
rightly of the matter,

Caesar has had great wrong.

Has he, masters?

I fear there will a worse

come in his place.

Mark ye his words?

He would not take the crown,

therefore 'tis certain
he was not ambitious.

If it be found so,
some will dear abide it.

There's not a nobler man
in Rome than Antony.

Now Mark him.

He begins again to speak.

Poor soul, his eyes
are red as fire with weeping.

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 honorable men.

I will not do them wrong;

I rather choose
to wrong the dead,

to wrong myself and you,

than I will wrong
such honorable 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.

We'll hear the will!
Read it, Mark Antony.

We will hear Caesar's will.

The will! The 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,
hearing 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?

Read the will!
We'll hear it, Antony!

You shall read us the will,

Caesar's will.

[Shouting]

Will you be patient?
Will you stay a while?

I have o'ershot myself
to tell you of it.

I fear I wrong the honorable men

whose daggers
have stabbed Caesar.

They were traitors.
"Honorable men!"

Villains, murderers!

The will! The will!

[Shouting]

You will compel me, then,
to read the will?

Then make a ring
around the corpse of Caesar

and let me show you him
that made the will.

Shall I descend?
And will you give me leave?

Descend!

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;

it was 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 stabbed,

and as he plucked
his cursed steel away,

Mark how the blood of Caesar
followed it,

as rushing out of doors
to be resolved

if Brutus so unkindly
knocked 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 vanquished him.

Then burst his mighty heart,

and in his mantle
muffling up his face,

even at the base
of Pompey's statue,

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
flourished 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,
marred as you see with traitors.

O noble Caesar!

O most bloody sight!

O traitors, villains!

We will be revenge!

Let not a traitor live!

Stay, countrymen.

Good friends,

sweet friends,
let me not stir you up

to such a sudden flood
of mutiny.

They that have done
this deed are honorable.

What private griefs they have,
alas, I know not,

that made them do it.

They are wise and honorable,

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.

We'll mutiny!

Yet hear me, countrymen.

Yet hear me speak.

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 forgot the will
I told you of.

The will!
The will!

Here is the will,

and under Caesar's seal.

To every Roman citizen he gives,

to every several man,
75 drachmas.

Moreover, he hath left you
all his walks,

his private arbors,
and new-planted orchards,

on this side Tiber;

he hath left them you,
and to your heirs forever--

common pleasures,

to walk abroad
and recreate yourselves.

Here was a Caesar!

When comes such another?

Never! Never!

Go fetch fire!
Come away! Away!

Go fetch fire!

Pluck down benches!

Pluck down forms,
windows, anything!

These many, then, shall die.

Their names are pricked.

Your brother too must die.

Consent you, Lepidus?

I do consent.

Prick him down, Antony.

Upon condition
Publius shall not live,

who is your sister's son,
Mark Antony.

He shall not live.

Look, with a spot I damn him.

But, Lepidus, go you
fetch Caesar's will,

and we then shall determine

how to cut off

some charge in legacies.

What, shall I meet you here?

Or here or at the capitol.

This is a slight
unmeritable man,

meet to be sent on errands.

Is it fit,

the threefold world divided,

he should stand one of the three

to share it?

So you thought him,

and took his voice
who should be pricked to die

in our black sentence
and proscription.

Octavius, I have
seen more days than you;

and though we lay
these honors on this man

to ease ourselves of
divers slanderous loads,

he shall but bear them
as the ass bears gold,

to groan and sweat
under the business,

either led or driven
as we point the way;

and having brought
our treasure where we will,

then take we down his load,
and turn him off.

Like to the empty ass,
to shake his ears

and graze in common.

You may do your will;

but he's a tried
and Valiant soldier.

So is my horse,
Octavius, and for that

I do appoint him
store of provender.

And now, Octavius,
listen great things.

Brutus and Cassius
are levying powers.

We must straight make head.

Therefore let our alliance
be combined,

and let us presently go
sit in council

how covert matters
may be best disclosed

and open perils surest answered.

Let us do so,
for we are at the stake

and bayed about
with many enemies;

and some that smile

have in their hearts, I fear,

millions of mischiefs.

[Trumpet blowing]

Stand, ho!

Give the word, ho!

Stand, ho!

Stand, ho!

What now, Lucilius,
is Cassius near?

He is at hand,
and Pindarus is come

to do you salutation
from his master.

He greets me well.

Your master, Pindarus,

in his own change,
or by ill officers,

hath given me some worthy cause

to wish things done, undone;

but if he be at hand
I shall be satisfied.

I do not doubt

but that my noble
master will appear

such as he is, full
of regard and honor.

He is not doubted.

A word, Lucilius.

How he received you
let me be resolved.

With courtesy
and with respect enough,

but not with such
familiar instances

nor with such free
and friendly conference

as he hath used of old.

Thou hast described
a hot friend cooling.

Ever note, Lucilius,

when love begins
to sicken and decay

it useth an enforced ceremony.

There are no tricks
in plain and simple faith.

Stand, ho!

Most noble brother,
you have done me wrong.

Judge me, you gods!
Wrong I mine enemies?

And if not so, how should I
wrong a brother?

Brutus, this sober form
of yours hides wrongs;

and when you do them--

Cassius, be content;
Speak your griefs softly.

I do know you well.

Before the eyes
of both our armies here,

which should perceive
nothing but love from us,

let us not wrangle.

That you have wronged me
doth appear in this:

You have condemned
and noted Lucius Pella

for taking bribes here
of the sardians,

wherein my letters,
praying on his side,

because I knew the man,
was slighted off.

You wronged yourself
to write in such a case.

In such a time as this
it is not meet

that every nice offense
should bear his comment.

Let me tell you, Cassius,

you yourself are much condemned

to have an itching palm,
to sell and mart

your offices for gold
to undeservers.

I an itching palm?

You know that you are Brutus
that speaks this,

or, by the gods,

this speech were else your last.

The name of Cassius
honors this corruption,

and chastisement doth
therefore hide his head.

Chastisement?

Remember march,

the ides of march remember.

Did not great Julius
bleed for justice sake?

What villain touched 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 honors

for so much trash
as may be grasped thus?

I had rather be a dog

and bay the moon
than such a Roman.

Brutus, bait not me.
I'll not endure it.

You forget yourself
to hedge me in.

I am a soldier, I,
older in action,

abler than yourself
to make conditions.

Go to!
You are not, Cassius.

I am.

I say you are not.

Urge me no more;
I shall forget myself.

Have mind upon your health.

Tempt me no further.

Away, slight man!

Is 't possible?

Must I give way and room
to your rash choler?

Shall I be frighted
when a madman stares?

O gods, ye gods!
Must I endure all this?

All this? Ay, more.

Fret till
your proud heart breaks.

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 humor?

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.

Is it come to this?

You 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.

You wrong me every way;
You wrong me, Brutus:

I said, an elder soldier,
not a better.

Did I say better?

If you did, I care not.

When Caesar lived,

he durst not thus have moved me.

Peace, peace!

You durst not
so have tempted him.

I durst not?

No.

What?
Durst not tempt him?

For your life you durst not.

Do not presume
too much upon my love,

I may do that
I shall be sorry for.

You have done that
you should be sorry for.

There is no terror, Cassius,
in your threats:

For I am armed
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:

I did send to you for gold
to pay my legions,

which you denied me;
Was that done like Cassius?

I denied you not.

You did.

I 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.

I do not, till you
practice them on me.

You love me not.

I do not like your faults.

A friendly eye could
never see such faults.

A flatterer's would not,

though they do appear
as huge as high Olympus.

Come, 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,

checked like a bondman,
all his faults observed,

set in a note-book,
learned, and conned by rote

to cast into my teeth.

O, I could weep
the spirit from mine eyes.

Here is my dagger,
and here my naked breast:

If that thou beest 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.

Sheathe your dagger.

Be angry when you will,
it shall have scope:

Do what you will,
dishonor shall be humor.

Hath Cassius lived to be
but mirth and laughter

to his Brutus,

when grief and blood
ill-tempered vexeth him?

When I spoke that,
I was ill-tempered too.

Do you confess so much?
Give me your hand.

And my heart too.

O Brutus!

Have you not love enough
to bear with me,

when that rash humor
that my mother gave me

makes me forgetful?

Yes, Cassius,
and from henceforth

when you are over-earnest
with your Brutus,

he'll think your mother chides,

and leave you so.

Lucilius, bid the commanders

prepare to lodge
their companies tonight.

And come yourself,

and bring Messala with you

immediately to us.

[Trumpet sounds]

Lucius...

A bowl of wine.

I did not think

you could have been so angry.

O Cassius,
I am sick of many griefs.

Of your philosophy
you make no use,

if you give place
to accidental evils.

No man bears sorrow better.

Portia is dead.

Ha? Portia?

She is dead.

How 'scaped I killing
when I crossed you so?

O insupportable
and touching loss!

Upon what sickness?

Impatient 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,

swallowed fire.

And died so?

Even so.

O ye immortal gods!

Speak no more of her.

In this I bury
all unkindness, Cassius.

My heart is thirsty
for that noble pledge.

Come in, Lucilius!
Welcome, good Messala.

Now, sit we close
about this taper here,

and call in question
our necessities.

Portia, art thou gone?

No 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.

Myself have letters
of the self-same tenor.

With what addition?

That by proscription,
and bills of outlawry,

Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,

have put to death
a hundred senators.

Therein our letters
do not well agree:

Mine speak of 70 senators

that died
by their proscriptions,

Cicero being one.

Cicero?

Cicero is dead,

and by that order
of proscription.

Had you your letters
from your wife, my lord?

No, Messala.

Nor nothing in your
letters writ of her?

Nothing, Messala.

Well, to our work alive!

What do you think

of marching to
philippi presently?

I do not think it good.

Your reason?

This it is: 'Tis better
that the enemy seek us;

so shall he waste his means,
weary his soldiers,

doing himself offense,
whilst we lying still,

are full of rest,
defense, and nimbleness.

Good reasons must of force

give place to better.

The people 'twixt
philippi and this ground

do stand but in
a forced affection--

hear me, good brother.

Under 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.

Then, with your will, go on:

We'll along ourselves
and meet them at philippi.

There is no more to say?

No more.

Good night.

Early tomorrow will
we rise and hence.

Lucius, my gown.

Good night, Lucilius.

Good night, my lord.

Farewell, good Messala.

Good night, lord Brutus.

Noble, noble Cassius,
good night, and good repose.

O my dear brother,

this was an ill
beginning to the night.

Never come such division
'twixt our souls!

Let it not, Brutus.

Everything is well.

Good night, my lord.

Good night, good brother.

Where is thy instrument?

Here in the tent, sir.

What, thou speakst drowsily?

Poor knave, I blame thee not;

thou art o'er-watched.

Call claudius, and
some other of my men;

I'll have them sleep
on cushions by my tent.

Varro and claudius!

Look, Lucius,

here's the book I sought for so;

I put it in the pocket
of my gown.

I was sure your lordship
did not give it me.

Bear with me, good boy;
I am much forgetful.

Canst thou hold up
thy heavy eyes awhile,

and touch thy instrument
a strain or two?

Ay, my lord, an't please you.

It does, my boy:

I trouble thee too much,
but thou art willing.

It is my duty, sir.

I should not urge thy duty
past thy might,

I know young bloods
look for a time of rest.

I have slept, my lord, already.

It was well done,
and thou shalt sleep again;

I will not hold thee long.

If I do live,

I will be good to thee.

* now, oh, now,
I needs must part *

* joy, once fled,
cannot return *

* if that parting be offense *

* it is she... *

this is a sleepy tune.

* ...So fair **

o murderous slumber,

layst 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.

And, good boy, good night.

Let me see, let me see;

is not the leaf turned down

where I left reading?

Here it is, I think.

How ill this taper burns.

Ha! Who comes here?

I think it is
the weakness of mine eyes

that shapes this
monstrous apparition.

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.

Thy evil spirit, Brutus!

Why com'st thou?

To tell thee thou shalt
see me at philippi.

Well; Then I shall
see thee again?

Ay, at philippi.

Why, I will see thee
at philippi then.

Now I have taken heart,
thou vanishest.

Ill spirit, I would hold
more talk with thee!

Boy, Lucius!
Lucius, awake!

My lord!

Didst thou dream, Lucius,

that thou so criedst out?

My lord, I do not know
that I did cry.

Yes, that thou didst.

Didst thou see any thing?

Nothing, my lord.

Varro! Claudius!
Sirs, awake!

My lord?
My lord?

Why did you so cry out, sirs,

in your sleep?

Did we, my lord?

Ay. Saw you any thing?

No, my lord, I saw nothing.

Nor I, my lord.

Go, and commend me
to my brother Cassius:

Bid him set on his
powers betimes before,

and we will follow.

It shall be done, my lord.

Now, most noble Brutus,

the gods today stand friendly,

that we may, lovers in peace,

lead on our days to age!

But since the affairs of men
rest still uncertain,

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?

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.

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.

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.

Messala!

What says my general?

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,

I am compelled to set
upon one battle

all our liberties.

[Drums beating]

[Footsteps]

Fly further off, my lord;
Fly further off!

This hill is far enough.

Look, look, Titinius!

Are those my tents where
I perceive the light?

They are, my lord.

Titinius, if thou lovest me,

mount thou my horse
and hide thy spurs in him,

till he have brought thee
up to yonder troops

and here again,
that I may rest assured

whether those troops
be friend or enemy.

I will be here again,
even with a thought.

Go, Pindarus,
get higher on that hill.

My sight was ever thick.

Regard Titinius,

and tell me what thou
not'st about the field.

This day I breathed first.

Time is come round,

and where I did begin,
there shall I end;

my life is run its compass.

My lord.

Sirrah, what news?

Oh, my lord!

Titinius is enclosed round about

with horsemen, that make to him

on the spur;
Yet he spurs on.

Now they are almost on him!

Now, Titinius.
Now, now!

He's ta'en.

Come down;
Behold no more!

O, coward that I am,
to live so long,

to see my best friend
ta'en before my face.

Come hither, sirrah.

In parthia
did I take thee prisoner,

and then I swore thee,
saving of thy life,

that whatsoever
I did bid thee do,

thou shouldst attempt it.

Come now, keep thine oath,

now be a Freeman;

and with this good sword

that ran through
Caesar's bowels,

search this bosom.

Stand not to answer.
Take thou the hilts.

Guide thou the sword.

Come now, keep thine oath!

Where is he?

Safe, Octavius.
Brutus is safe enough.

I dare assure thee that no enemy

shall ever take alive
the noble Brutus.

Yet, countrymen,

o, yet hold up your heads!

Come, poor remains of friends,

rest on this rock.

O Julius Caesar,
thou art mighty yet,

thy spirit walks abroad,

and turns our swords
in our own proper entrails!

Hark thee, clitus.

What, I, my lord?

No, not for all the world.

Peace then, no words.

I'd rather kill myself.

Come hither, good volumnius,

list a word.

What says my lord?

Why, this, volumnius:

The ghost of Caesar
hath appeared to me

two several times by night:

At sardis once,

and this last night
here in philippi fields:

I know my hour is come.

Not so, my lord.

Nay, I'm sure it is, volumnius.

Thou seest the world,
volumnius, how it goes,

our enemies have
beat us to the pit:

It is more worthy
to leap in ourselves

than tarry till they push us.

Good volumnius,

thou know'st that we two
went to school together:

Even for that our love
of old, I prithee,

hold thou my sword-hilts
whilst I run on it.

That's not an office
for a friend, my lord.

[Alarum]

Fly, fly, my lord, there
is no tarrying here.

Farewell to you, and you,

and you, volumnius,

countrymen, my heart doth joy

that yet in all my life

I found no man
but he was true to me.

I shall have glory
by this losing day

more than Octavius
and Mark Antony

by this vile conquest
shall attain unto.

So fare you well at once,

for Brutus' tongue

hath almost ended
his life's history.

Night hangs upon mine eyes;

my bones would rest,

that have but labored
to attain this hour.

[Alarum]

I prithee, strato,
stay thou by thy lord.

Thou art a fellow
of a good respect.

Thy life has had some
smatch of honor in it.

Hold then my sword,
and turn away thy face,

while I do run upon it.

Wilt thou, strato?

Give me your hand first.

Fare you well, my lord.

Farewell, good strato.

Caesar, now be still!

I killed not thee
with half so good a will.

[Drums beating]

According to his virtue
let us use him,

with all respect
and rites of burial.

Within my tent his bones
tonight shall lie,

most like a soldier,
ordered honorably.

This was the noblest
Roman of them all.

All the conspirators
save only he

did that they did
in envy of great Caesar.

He only, in a general
honest thought,

and common good to all,
made one of them.

His life was gentle,
and the elements

so mixed in him that
nature might stand up,

and say to all the world...

"This was a man!"

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Warner bros.

Captioned by the national
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