Wait! Who’s coming? A friend of Antony’s.
[kneeling] Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel. [falls prostrate] 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 Thorough the hazards of this untrod state With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
[Kneeling] Brutus, my master told me to kneel just like this. [He lays down with his head down to the floor] And like this. He told me to prostrate myself, and, being on the ground like this, he told me to say: “Brutus is noble, wise, brave, and honest. Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving. Antony loves Brutus and honors him. Antony feared Caesar, honored him, and loved him. If Brutus will promise that Antony would be safe to come to him and hear and explanation why Caesar deserved to be killed, Mark Antony will not love dead Caesar as much as living Brutus. And he will follow noble Brutus through the hard times of this unprecedented state of affairs.” 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.
Your master is a wise and brave Roman. I never thought otherwise. Tell him that if he wants to come here, he'll get a full explanation, and he’ll leave unharmed. I swear it on my honor.
[rising] I’ll fetch him presently.
[Standing up] I’ll get him now.
ANTONY'S SERVANT exits.
ANTONY'S SERVANT exits.
I know that we shall have him well to friend.
I know that we'll soon have Antony as a good friend to us.
I wish we may. But yet have I a mind That fears him much, and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
I hope we do. But still, I fear him greatly, and my misgivings usually end up coming painfully true.
But here comes Antony.—Welcome, Mark Antony.
But here comes Antony.
[To ANTONY] Welcome, Mark Antony.
O mighty Caesar! Dost thou 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’s 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.
[To CAESAR's body] Oh, mighty Caesar! Do you lie so low? Are all of your conquests, glories, triumphs, and successes now shrunk to such little value? Farewell.
[To the conspirators] Gentlemen, I don’t know what you plan to do; who else you must kill; who else you think is corrupt. If it’s me, there’s no time as fitting as this hour of Caesar’s death, and no weapons even half as worthy as your swords— which have been made rich by being covered in the noblest blood in the whole world. I beg you, if you have a grudge against me, do what you want to do right now while your stained hands still smell of blood. Even if were I to live a thousand years, I would never find another moment when I would be as ready to die as I am now. There’s no place I’d rather die than next to Caesar, and no manner of death I'd prefer than being stabbed by you, the leaders of this new era.
O 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. For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony. Our arms in strength of malice and our hearts Of brothers' temper do receive you in With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Oh, Antony, don’t beg us to kill you. Though we must seem to be bloody and cruel right now to you—with our bloody hands and what we've just done —you’re only seeing our hands and the bloody work they've done. You have not seen into our hearts. They are full of pity for Caesar. But, just as fire drives out fire, our pity for the wrongs committed against Rome overcame our pity for Caesar and made us do what we did to Caesar. As for you, our swords have soft points that will not harm you, Mark Antony. Our arms—with the same strength they had in striking Caesar—and our hearts—filled with brotherly love—embrace you with kind love, good thoughts, and admiration.
Your voice shall be as strong as any man’s In the disposing of new dignities.
Your influence will be as strong as anyone’s in the selection of new government officials.
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.
Just be patient until we’ve calmed the masses, who are beside themselves with fear. And then we’ll explain to you why I—who loved Caesar even while I stabbed him—have done this.
I doubt not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand. [shakes hands with the conspirators] First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you. —Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand. —Now, Decius Brutus, yours. —Now yours, Metellus. —Yours, Cinna. —And, my valiant Casca, yours. —Though last, not last 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 not 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 corse? 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. Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bayed, brave hart; Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, Signed in thy spoil, and crimsoned in thy lethe. O world, thou wast the forest to this hart, And this indeed, O world, the heart of thee. How like a deer, strucken by many princes, Dost thou here lie!
I don’t doubt your wisdom. May each of you give me his bloody hand. [He shakes hands with the conspirators]
[To BRUTUS] First, Marcus Brutus, I will shake your hand.
[To CASSIUS] Next, Caius Cassius, I take your hand.
[To DECIUS] Now, Decius Brutus, yours.
[To METELLUS] Now yours, Metellus.
[To CINNA] Yours, Cinna.
[To CASCA] And, my valiant Casca, yours.
[To TREBONIUS] Though I shake your hand last, I do not love you the least, good Trebonius.
[To the conspirators] All of you gentlemen, alas, what can I say? Now that we’ve shaken hands, my credibility stands on such slippery ground that you must think me either a coward or a flatterer.
[To CAESAR's body] It is true that I loved you, Caesar. If your spirit is looking down upon us now, would it grieve you more than even your death to see your Antony making peace , and shaking the bloody hands of your enemies—most noble enemies!—in the presence of your corpse? If I had as many eyes as you have wounds, and they wept tears as fast as your wounds stream blood, even that would be more becoming than joining your enemies in friendship. Forgive me, Julius! Here is where you were brought down, like a brave deer surrounded by hunting dogs. Here is where you fell, and here your hunters still stand, stained and reddened by your blood. Oh, world, you were the forest to this deer. And this deer, oh world, was your dear. Now you lie here, so much like a deer, stabbed by many princes!
Pardon me, Caius Cassius. The enemies of Caesar shall say this; Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
Pardon me, Caius Cassius. Even the enemies of Caesar would say the same. So, when said by a friend, it’s just a plain unemotional truth.
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?
I don’t blame you for praising Caesar as you do. But what agreement do you plan to make with us? Will you be marked down as one of our friends, or should we move on without depending 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.
Because I wanted to be your friend, I shook your hands. But, indeed, I was distracted when I looked down at Caesar. I am friends with you all and love you all, on one condition—that you will give me the reasons how and why 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.
If we couldn't, killing him would have been just some savage act! Antony, our reasons are so well thought-out that even if you were Caesar’s son, you would be satisfied by them.
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.
That’s all I ask—and would also ask the favor that I be allowed to bring his body to the marketplace and stand on the platform and speak during his funeral ceremony, as a friend ought to do.
You shall, Mark Antony.
You may, Mark Antony.
Brutus, a word with you . [aside to BRUTUS] You know not what you do. Do not consent That Antony speak in his funeral. Know you how much the people may be moved By that which he will utter?
Brutus, may I speak with you?
[To BRUTUS so that only he can hear] You don’t know what you’re doing. Don’t agree to let Antony speak at his funeral. Do you know how much the people could be stirred up by what he says?
[aside to CASSIUS] 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.
[To CASSIUS so that only he can hear] If you'll agree, I myself will stand on the platform first and explain the reason for Caesar’s death. I will announce that Antony speaks with our permission, and I will say that we believe Caesar should be honored with all the usual and lawful ceremonies. It will help us more than it will do us harm.
[aside to BRUTUS] I know not what may fall. I like it not.
[To BRUTUS so that only he can hear] Anything could happen. I don’t like this.
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 ’t 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.
Mark Antony, here, take Caesar’s body. You will not blame us in your funeral speech, but will say all the good you can think of about Caesar. And you will also say that you do all this with our permission. Otherwise, you won't take any part in his funeral. And you’ll speak on the same platform that I do, after I've finished my own speech.
Be it so. I do desire no more.
So be it. I want nothing more than that.
Prepare the body then, and follow us.
Prepare the body, then, and follow us.
Everyone exits except ANTONY.
Everyone except ANTONY exits.
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 livèd 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 deeds, 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.
Oh, pardon me, you bleeding corpse, for being quiet and friendly with these butchers! You are the remains of the noblest man that ever lived. May disaster strike the hand that shed this priceless blood. Over your wounds—which, like speechless mouths, open their red lips as if to beg me to speak —I predict that a curse will come down on us. Anger between brothers and fierce civil war will burden all of Italy. Blood and destruction will be so common and dreadful events so familiar, that mothers will just smile when they watch their babies cut to pieces by the hands of war. The sheer volume of evil deeds will choke people’s compassion. And Caesar’s ghost—searching for revenge with Atë by his side —will rush up from hell and cry in the voice of a king, “Havoc!” His ghost will unleash the dogs of war, so that this foul murder will cover the earth with men’s corpses, begging to be buried.
OCTAVIUS' SERVANT enters.