Julius Caesar - William Shakespeare (primary phonics txt) 📗

Julius Caesar

By William Shakespeare.

Table of Contents Titlepage Imprint Dramatis Personae Julius Caesar Act I Scene I Scene II Scene III Act II Scene I Scene II Scene III Scene IV Act III Scene I Scene II Scene III Act IV Scene I Scene II Scene III Act V Scene I Scene II Scene III Scene IV Scene V Colophon Uncopyright Imprint

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Dramatis Personae

Julius Caesar

Octavius Caesar, triumvir after the death of Julius Caesar

Marcus Antonius, triumvir after the death of Julius Caesar

M. Aemilius Lepidus, triumvir after the death of Julius Caesar

Cicero, senator

Publius, senator

Popilius Lena, senator

Marcus Brutus, conspirator against Julius Caesar

Cassius, conspirator against Julius Caesar

Casca, conspirator against Julius Caesar

Trebonius, conspirator against Julius Caesar

Ligarius, conspirator against Julius Caesar

Decius Brutus, conspirator against Julius Caesar

Metellus Cimber, conspirator against Julius Caesar

Cinna, conspirator against Julius Caesar

Flavius and Marullus, tribunes

Artemidorus of Cnidos, a teacher of rhetoric

A Soothsayer

Cinna, a poet. Another poet

Lucilius, friend to Brutus and Cassius

Titinius, friend to Brutus and Cassius

Messala, friend to Brutus and Cassius

Young Cato, friend to Brutus and Cassius

Volumnius, friend to Brutus and Cassius

Varro, servant to Brutus

Clitus, servant to Brutus

Claudius, servant to Brutus

Strato, servant to Brutus

Lucius, servant to Brutus

Dardanius, servant to Brutus

Pindarus, servant to Cassius

Calpurnia, wife to Caesar

Portia, wife to Brutus

Senators, citizens, guards, attendants, etc.

Scene: Rome; the neighbourbood of Sardis; the neighbourbood of Philippi.

Julius Caesar Act I Scene I

Rome. A street.

Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners. 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 labouring day without the sign
Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?

First Commoner 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 Commoner 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 Commoner 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 Commoner Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Marullus What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow! Second Commoner Why, sir, cobble you. Flavius Thou art a cobbler, art thou? Second Commoner 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 recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat’s leather have gone upon my handiwork. Flavius

But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

Second Commoner 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 live-long 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 all the Commoners.
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