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Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above.
A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer.

To the Soothsayer

The ides of March are come.

Ay, Cæsar; but not gone.

Hail, Cæsar! read this schedule.

Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread,

At your best leisure, this his humble suit.

O Cæsar, read mine first; for mine's a suit

That touches Cæsar nearer: read it, great Cæsar.

What touches us ourself shall be last served;

Delay not, Cæsar; read it instantly. (10)

What, is the fellow mad?

Sirrah, give place.

What, urge you your petitions in the street?

Come to the Capitol. CÆSAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following.

I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.

What enterprise, Popilius?

Fare you well. Advances to Cæsar.

What said Popilius Lena?

He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive.

I fear our purpose is discovered.

Look, how he makes to Cæsar; mark him.

Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.

Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, (21)

Cassius or Cæsar never shall turn back,

For I will slay myself.

Cassius, be constant:

Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;

For, look, he smiles, and Cæsar doth not change.

Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus.

He draws Mark Antony out of the way. Exeunt Antony and Trebonius.

Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,

And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar.

He is address'd: press near and second him. (30)

Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.

Are we all ready? What is now amiss

That Cæsar and his senate must redress?

Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Cæsar,

Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat

An humble heart,— Kneeling.

I must prevent thee, Cimber.

These couchings and these lowly courtesies

Might fire the blood of ordinary men,

And turn pre-ordinance and first decree

Into the law of children. Be not fond, (40)

To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood

That will be thaw'd from the true quality

With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words,

Low-crooked court'sies and base spanielfawning.

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, Cæsar 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 Cæsar's ear (51)

For the repealing of my banish'd brother?

I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cæsar;

Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may

Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

What, Brutus!

Pardon, Cæsar; Cæsar, 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: (60)

But I am constant as the northern star,

Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality

There is no fellow in the firmament.

The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks,

They are all fire and every one doth shine,

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

So in the world; 'tis furnish'd 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, (70)

Unshaked of motion: and that I am he,

Let me a little show it, even in this;

That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd,

And constant do remain to keep him so.

O Cæsar,—

Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?

Great Cæsar,—

Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?

Speak, hands, for me! Casca first, then the other Conspirators and Marcus Brutus stab Cæsar.

Et tu, Brute ! Then fall, Cæsar. Dies.

Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!

Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. (80)

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.

And Cassius too.

Where's Publius?

Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.

Stand fast together, lest some friend of Cæsar's

Should chance—

Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; (90)

There is no harm intended to your person,

Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius.

And 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. Re-enter TREBONIUS.

Where is Antony?

Fled to his house amazed:

Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run

As it were doomsday.

Fates, we will know your pleasures:

That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time

And drawing days out, that men stand upon. (101)

Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life

Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

Grant that, and then is death a benefit:

So are we Cæsar's friends, that have abridged

His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,

And let us bathe our hands in Cæsar's blood

Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords:

Then walk we forth, even to the market-place,

And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads,

Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!' (111)

Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence

Shall this our lofty scene be acted over

In states unborn and accents yet unknown!

How many times shall Cæsar 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 call'd

The men that gave their country liberty.

What, shall we forth?

Ay, every man away:

Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels (121)

With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. Enter a Servant.

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;

Cæsar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving:

Say I love Brutus, and I honor him;

Say I fear'd Cæsar, honor'd him and loved him. (130)

If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony

May safely come to him, and be resolved

How Cæsar hath deserved to lie in death,

Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar 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.

Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;

I never thought him worse.

Tell him, so please him come unto this place, (141)

He shall be satisfied; and, by my honor,

Depart untouch'd.

I'll fetch him presently. Exit.

I know that we shall have him well to friend.

I wish we may: but yet have I a mind

That fears him much; and my misgiving still

Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

But here comes Antony. Re-enter ANTONY.

Welcome, Mark Antony.

O mighty Casar ! dost thou lie so low?

Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,

Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. (151)

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 Cæsar'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,

Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, (160)

I shall not find myself so apt to die:

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

As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off,

The choice and master spirits of this age.

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; (170)

And pity to the general wrong of Rome—

As fire drives out fire, so pity pity—

Hath done this deed on Cæsar. 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.

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, (181)

And then we will deliver you the cause,

Why I, that did love Cæsar when I struck him,

Have thus proceeded.

I doubt not of your wisdom.

Let each man render me his bloody hand:

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 least in love, yours, good Trebonius. (190)

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, Cæsar, 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? (200)

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 bay'd, brave hart;

Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand,

Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd 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, (210)

Dost, thou here lie!

Mark Antony,—

Pardon me, Caius Cassius:

The enemies of Cæsar shall say this;

Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.

I blame you not for praising Cæsar so;

But what compact mean you to have with us?

Will you be prick'd in number of our friends;

Or shall we on, and not depend on you?

Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, (219)

Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Cæsar.

Friends am I with you all and love you all,

Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons

Why and wherein Cæsar was dangerous.

Or else were this a savage spectacle:

Our reasons are so full of good regard

That were you, Antony, the son of Cæsar,

You should be satisfied.

That's all I seek:

And am moreover suitor that I may

Produce his body to the market-place;

And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, (230)

Speak in the order of his funeral.

You shall, Mark Antony.

Brutus, a word with you. Aside to Bru.

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?

By your pardon;

I will myself into the pulpit first,

And show the reason of our Cæsar's death:

What Antony shall speak, I will protest

He speaks by leave and by permission, (240)

And that we are contented Cæsar 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 Cæsar's body.

You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,

But speak all good you can devise of Cæsar,

And say you do't by our permission;

Else shall you not have any hand at all

About his funeral: and you shall speak (250)

In the same pulpit whereto I am going,

After my speech is ended.

Be it so;

I do desire no more.

Prepare the body then, and follow us. Exeunt all but Antony.

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,— (260)

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 quarter'd with the hands of war;

All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: (270)

And Cæsar'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. Enter a Servant.

You serve Octavius Cæsar, do you not?

I do, Mark Antony.

Cæsar did write for him to come to Rome.

He did receive his letters, and is coming;

And bid me say to you by word of mouth— (281)

O Cæsar!— Seeing the body.

Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep.

Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes,

Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,

Began to water. Is thy master coming?

He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome.

Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced:

Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, (289)

No Rome of safety for Octavius yet;

Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile;

Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse

Into the market-place: there shall I try

In my oration, how the people take

The cruel issue of these bloody men;

According to the which, thou shalt discourse

To young Octavius of the state of things.

Lend me your hand. Exeunt with Cæsar's body.


The Forum.
Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of Citizens.

We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.

Then follow me, and give me audience, friends.

Cassius, go you into the other street,

And part the numbers.

Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here;

Those that will follow Cassius, go with him;

And public reasons shall be rendered

Of Casar's death.

First Cit.
I will hear Brutus speak.

Sec. Cit.
I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons, (10)

When severally we hear them rendered. Brutus goes into the pulpit.

Third Cit.
The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!

Be patient till the last.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers! 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. If there be any
in this assembly, any dear friend of Cæsar's,
to him I say, that Brutus' love to Cæsar was
no less than his. If then that friend demand
why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer:—
Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that
I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar
were living and die all slaves, than that Cæsar
were dead, to live'all free men? As Cæsar
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
bondman? 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.

Then none have I offended. I have
done no more to Cæsar 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 offences enforced,
for which he suffered death. Enter ANTONY and others, with CÆSAR's body.

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
my best lover 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!

First Cit.
Bring him with triumph home unto his house.

Sec. Cit.
Give him a statue with his ancestors.

Third Cit.
Let him be Cæsar.

Fourth Cit.
Cæsar's better parts

Shall be crown'd in Brutus.

First Cit.
Well bring him to his house

With shouts and clamors.

My countrymen,—

Sec. Cit.
Peace, silence ! Brutus speaks.

First Cit.
Peace, ho!

Good countrymen, let me depart alone, (61)

And, for my sake, stay here with Antony:

Do grace to Cæsar's corpse, and grace his speech

Tending to Cæsar's glories; which Mark Antony,

By our permission, is allow'd to make.

I do entreat you, not a man depart,

Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. Exit.

First Cit.
Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.

Third Cit.
Let him go up into the public chair;

We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up. (70)

For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you. Goes into the pulpit.

Fourth Cit.
What does he say of Brutus?

Third Cit.
He says, for Brutus' sake,

He finds himself beholding to us all.

Fourth Cit.
'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.

First Cit.
This Cæsar was a tyrant.

Third Cit.
Nay, that's certain:

We are blest that Rome is rid of him.

Sec. Cit.
Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.

You gentle Romans,—

Peace, ho! let us hear him.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;

I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him. (80)

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their bones;

So let it be with Cæsar. The noble Brutus

Hath told you Cæsar was ambitious:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Cæsar answer'd 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 Cæsar's funeral. (90)

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 Cæsar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept:

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;

And Brutus is an honorable man. (100)

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, (110)

And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;

My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,

And I must pause till it come back to me.

First Cit.
Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.

Sec. Cit.
If thou consider rightly of the matter,

Cæsar has had great wrong.

Third Cit.
Has he, masters?

I fear there will a worse come in his place.

Fourth Cit.
Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown;

Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious.

First Cit.
If it be found so, some will dear abide it. (120)

Sec. Cit.
Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.

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

Fourth Cit.
Now mark him, he begins again to speak.

But yesterday the word of Cæsar 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: (130)

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 Cæsar;

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 Cæsar's wounds

And dip their napkins in his sacred blood,

Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, (140)

And, dying, mention it within their wills,

Bequeathing it as a rich legacy

Unto their issue.

Fourth Cit.
We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.


The will, the will! we will hear Cæsar's will.

Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;

It is not meet you know how Cæsar loved you.

You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;

And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar, (149)

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!

Fourth Cit.
Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony;

You shall read us the will, Cæsar's will.

Will you be patient? will you stay awhile?

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

I fear I wrong the honorable men

Whose daggers have stabb'd Cæsar; I do fear it.

Fourth Cit.
They were traitors: honorable men!


The will! the testament! (160)

Sec. Cit.
They were villains, murderers: the will! read the will.

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

Then make a ring about the corpse of Cæsar,

And let me show you him that made the will.

Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?

Several Cit.
Come down.

Sec. Cit.

Third Cit.
You shall have leave. Antony comes down.

Fourth Cit.
A ring; stand round.

First Cit.
Stand from the hearse, stand from the body. (170)

Sec. Cit.
Room for Antony, most noble Antony.

Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.

Several Cit.
Stand back; room; bear back.

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.

You all do know this mantle: I remember

The first time ever Cæsar put it on;

'Twas 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 stabb'd; (181)

And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,

Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it,

As rushing out of doors, to be resolved

If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;

For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel:

Judge, O you gods, how dearly Cæsar loved him!

This was the most unkindest cut of all;

For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,

Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, (190)

Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;

And, in his mantle muffling up his face,

Even at the base of Pompey's statua,

Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.

O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!

Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,

Whilst bloody treason flourish'd 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 (200)

Our Cæsar's vesture wounded? Look you here,

Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.

First Cit.
O piteous spectacle!

Sec. Cit.
O noble Cæsar!

Third Cit.
O woful day!

Fourth Cit.
O traitors, villains!

First Cit.
O most bloody sight!

Sec. Cit.
We will be revenged.


Revenge! About! Seek! Burn!

Fire! Kill! Slay! Let not a traitor live! (210)

Stay, countrymen.

First Cit.
Peace there! hear the noble Antony.

Sec. Cit.
Well hear him, we'll follow him, well die with him.

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: (221)

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 Cæsar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths, (230)

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 Cæsar that should move

The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.


We'll mutiny.

First Cit.
We'll burn the house of Brutus.

Third Cit.
Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.

Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.


Peace, ho! Hear Antony. Most noble Antony! (240)

Why, friends, you go to do you know not what:

Wherein hath Cæsar thus deserved your loves?

Alas, you know not: I must tell you, then:

You have forgot the will I told you of.


Most true. The will! Let's stay and hear the will.

Here is the will, and under Cæsar's seal.

To every Roman citizen he gives,

To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.

Sec. Cit.
Most noble Cæsar! We'll revenge his death.

Third Cit.
O royal Cæsar! (250)

Hear me with patience.


Peace, ho!

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 for ever, common pleasures,

To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.

Here was a Cæsar! when comes such another?

First Cit. Never, never. Come, away, away!

We'll burn his body in the holy place,

And with the brands fire the traitors' houses. (261)

Take up the body.

Sec. Cit.
Go fetch fire.

Third Cit.
Pluck down benches.

Fourth Cit.
Pluck down forms, windows, any thing. Exeunt Citizens with the body.

Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,

Take thou what course thou wilt! Enter a Servant.

How now, fellow!

Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.

Where is he?

He and Lepidus are at Cæsar's house.

And thither will I straight to visit him: (271)

He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,

And in this mood will give us any thing.

I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius

Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.

Belike they had some notice of the people,

How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. Exeunt.


A street.
Enter CINNA the poet.

I dreamt to-night that I did feast with Cæsar,

And things unlucky charge my fantasy:

I have no will to wander forth of doors,

Yet something leads me forth. Enter Citizens.

First Cit.
What is your name?

Sec. Cit.
Whither are you going?

Third Cit.
Where do you dwell?

Fourth Cit.
Are you a married man or a bachelor? (10)

Sec. Cit.
Answer every man directly.

First Cit.
Ay, and briefly.

Fourth Cit.
Ay, and wisely.

Third Cit.
Ay, and truly, you were best.

What is my name? Whither am I going?
Where do I dwell? Am I a married man
or a bachelor? Then, to answer every man directly
and briefly, wisely and truly: wisely I
say, I am a bachelor.

Sec. Cit.
That's as much as to say, they are
fools that marry: you'll bear me a bang for
that, I fear. Proceed; directly. (22)

Directly, I am going to Cæsar's fu neral.

First Cit.
As a friend or an enemy?

As a friend.

Sec. Cit.
That matter is answered directly.

Fourth Cit.
For your dwelling,—briefly.

Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.

Third Cit.
Your name, sir, truly.

Truly, my name is Cinna. (31)

First Cit.
Tear him to pieces; he's a conspirator.

I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.

Fourth Cit.
Tear him for his bad verses,
tear him for his bad verses.

I am not Cinna the conspirator.

Fourth Cit.
It is no matter, his name's
Cinna; pluck but his name out of his heart,
and turn him going.

Third Cit.
Tear him, tear him! Come,
brands, ho! fire-brands: to Brutus', to Cassius';
burn all: some to Decius' house, and
some to Casca's; some to Ligarius': away, go! Exeunt.

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