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    The Tragedy of Julius Caesar
    The Tragedy of Julius Caesar
    The Tragedy of Julius Caesar
    Ebook144 pages1 hour

    The Tragedy of Julius Caesar

    By William Shakespeare

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    About this ebook

    Is it about the fact that people are a flock of sheep? No, rather, how difficult it is to make the right choice without having enough information. And this topic is relevant in the current policy after two thousand years. She raises a lot of questions: Is Caesar’s murder a deliverance from a tyrant or a betrayal?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKtoczyta.pl
    Release dateApr 26, 2019
    ISBN9788381766906
    Author

    William Shakespeare

    William Shakespeare was an English poet, playwright, and actor. He is widely regarded as the greatest dramatist in the English language. Shakespeare is often called England’s national poet and the “Bard of Avon.”  

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      Book preview

      The Tragedy of Julius Caesar - William Shakespeare

      field.

      DRAMATIS PERSONAE

      JULIUS CAESAR

      OCTAVIUS CAESAR, Triumvir after his death.

      MARCUS ANTONIUS, Triumvir after his death.

      M. AEMIL. LEPIDUS Triumvir after his death.

      CICERO, PUBLIUS, POPILIUS LENA, Senators.

      MARCUS BRUTUS, Conspirator against Caesar.

      CASSIUS, Conspirator against Caesar.

      CASCA, Conspirator against Caesar.

      TREBONIUS, Conspirator against Caesar.

      LIGARIUS, Conspirator against Caesar.

      DECIUS BRUTUS, Conspirator against Caesar.

      METELLUS CIMBER, Conspirator against Caesar.

      CINNA, Conspirator against Caesar.

      FLAVIUS, tribune

      MARULLUS, tribune

      ARTEMIDORUS, a Sophist of Cnidos.

      A Soothsayer

      CINNA, a poet. Another Poet.

      LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, young CATO, and VOLUMNIUS, Friends to Brutus and Cassius.

      VARRO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRATO, LUCIUS, DARDANIUS, Servants to

      Brutus

      PINDARUS, Servant to Cassius

      The Ghost of Caesar

      Senators, Citizens, Soldiers, Commoners, Messengers, and Servants

      CALPURNIA, wife to Caesar

      PORTIA, wife to Brutus

      SCENE: Rome, the conspirators’ camp near Sardis, and the plains of Philippi.

      ACT I

      SCENE I. Rome. A street

      [Enter Flavius, Marullus, and a Throng of Citizens.]

      FLAVIUS.

      Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home!

      Is this a holiday? What! know you not,

      Being mechanical, you ought not walk

      Upon a laboring day without the sign

      Of your profession?–Speak, what trade art thou?

      FIRST CITIZEN.

      Why, sir, a carpenter.

      MARULLUS.

      Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?

      What dost thou with thy best apparel on?–

      You, sir; what trade are you?

      SECOND CITIZEN.

      Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you

      would say, a cobbler.

      MARULLUS.

      But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.

      SECOND CITIZEN.

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

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

      MARULLUS.

      What trade, thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what trade?

      SECOND CITIZEN.

      Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me; yet,

      if you be out, sir, I can mend you.

      MARULLUS.

      What mean’st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow!

      SECOND CITIZEN.

      Why, sir, cobble you.

      FLAVIUS.

      Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

      SECOND CITIZEN.

      Truly, Sir, all that I live by is with the awl; I meddle with

      no tradesman’s matters, nor women’s matters, but with awl.

      I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in

      great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon

      neat’s-leather have gone upon my handiwork.

      FLAVIUS.

      But wherefore art not in thy shop today?

      Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

      SECOND CITIZEN.

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

      work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Caesar and to

      rejoice in his triumph.

      MARULLUS.

      Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?

      What tributaries follow him to Rome,

      To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?

      You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!

      O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,

      Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft

      Have you climb’d up to walls and battlements,

      To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops,

      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 an 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?

      Be gone!

      Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,

      Pray to the gods to intermit the plague

      That needs must light on this ingratitude.

      FLAVIUS.

      Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,

      Assemble all the poor men of your sort,

      Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears

      Into the channel, till the lowest stream

      Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

      [Exeunt CITIZENS.]

      See whether their basest metal be not moved;

      They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.

      Go you down that way towards the Capitol;

      This way will I. Disrobe the images,

      If you do find them deck’d with ceremonies.

      MARULLUS.

      May we do so?

      You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

      FLAVIUS.

      It is no matter; let no images

      Be hung with Caesar’s trophies. I’ll about

      And drive away the vulgar from the streets;

      So do you too, where you perceive them thick.

      These growing feathers pluck’d 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.

      [Exeunt.]

      SCENE II. The same. A public place

      [Enter, in procession, with music, Caesar; Antony, for the course; Calpurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer.]

      CAESAR.

      Calpurnia,–

      CASCA.

      Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.

      [Music ceases.]

      CAESAR.

      Calpurnia,–

      CALPURNIA.

      Here, my lord.

      CAESAR.

      Stand you directly in Antonius’ way,

      When he doth run his course.–Antonius,–

      ANTONY.

      Caesar, my lord?

      CAESAR.

      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.

      ANTONY.

      I shall remember.

      When Caesar says Do this, it is perform’d.

      CAESAR.

      Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

      [Music.]

      SOOTHSAYER.

      Caesar!

      CAESAR.

      Ha! Who calls?

      CASCA.

      Bid every noise be still.–Peace yet again!

      [Music ceases.]

      CAESAR.

      Who is it in the press that calls on me?

      I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,

      Cry Caesar! Speak, Caesar is turn’d to hear.

      SOOTHSAYER.

      Beware the Ides of March.

      CAESAR.

      What man is that?

      BRUTUS.

      A soothsayer bids you beware the Ides of March.

      CAESAR.

      Set him before me; let me see his face.

      CASSIUS.

      Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.

      CAESAR.

      What say’st thou to me now? Speak once again.

      SOOTHSAYER.

      Beware the Ides of March.

      CAESAR.

      He is a dreamer; let us leave him. Pass.

      [Sennet. Exeunt all but BRUTUS and CASSIUS.]

      CASSIUS.

      Will you go see the order of the course?

      BRUTUS.

      Not I.

      CASSIUS.

      I pray you, do.

      BRUTUS.

      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.

      CASSIUS.

      Brutus, I do observe you now of late:

      I

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