Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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1.3 Thunder and lightning. Enter Casca, ⌈at one door, with his sword drawn,⌉ and Cicero ⌈at another⌉

CICERO

Good even, Casca. Brought you Caesar home?

Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?

CASCA

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

Th‘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.

CICERO

Why, saw you anything more wonderful?

CASCA

A common slave—you know him well by sight—

Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn

Like twenty torches joined; and yet his hand,

Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched.

Besides—I ha’ not since put up my sword—

Against the Capitol I met a lion

Who glazed upon me, and went surly by

Without annoying me. 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 market-place,

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.

CICERO

Indeed it is a strange-disposed time;

But men may construe things after their fashion,

Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.

Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?

CASCA

He doth, for he did bid Antonio

Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.

CICERO

Good night then, Casca. This disturbed sky

Is not to walk in.

CASCA

Farewell, Cicero. Exit Cicero

Enter Cassius, ⌈unbraced⌉

CASSIUS

Who’s there?

CASCA A Roman.

CASSIUS Casca, by your voice.

CASCA

Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this?

CASSIUS

A very pleasing night to honest men.

CASCA

Who ever knew the heavens menace so?

CASSIUS

Those that have known the earth so full of faults.

For my part, I have walked about the streets,

Submitting me unto the perilous night;

And thus unbracèd, Casca, as you see,

Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone;

And when the cross blue lightning seemed to open

The breast of heaven, I did present myself

Even in the aim and very flash of it.

CASCA

But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens?

It is the part of men to fear and tremble

When the most mighty gods by tokens send

Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.

CASSIUS

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;

But if you would consider the true cause

Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,

Why birds and beasts from quality and kind–

Why old men, fools, and children calculate—

Why all these things change from their ordinance,

Their natures, and preformed faculties,

To monstrous quality—why, you shall find

That heaven hath infused them with these spirits

To make them instruments of fear and warning

Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca,

Name to thee a man most like this dreadful night,

That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars

As doth the lion in the Capitol;

A man no mightier than thyself or me

In personal action, yet prodigious grown,

And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.

CASCA

‘Tis Caesar that you mean, is it not, Cassius?

CASSIUS

Let it be who it is; for Romans now

Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors.

But woe the while! Our fathers’ minds are dead,

And we are governed with our mothers’ spirits.

Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.

CASCA

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.

CASSIUS (drawing his dagger)

I know where I will wear this dagger then:

Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius.

Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;

Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat.

Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,

Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,

Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;

But life, being weary of these worldly bars,

Never lacks power to dismiss itself.

If I know this, know all the world besides,

That part of tyranny that I do bear

I can shake off at pleasure.

Thunder still

CASCA So can I.

So every bondman in his own hand bears

The power to cancel his captivity.

CASSIUS

And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?

Poor man, I know he would not be a wolf

But that he sees the Romans are but sheep.

He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.

Those that with haste will make a mighty fire

Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome,

What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves

For the base matter to illuminate

So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief,

Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this

Before a willing bondman; then I know

My answer must be made. But I am armed,

And dangers are to me indifferent.

CASCA

You speak to Casca, and to such a man

That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold. My hand.

Be factious for redress of all these griefs,

And I will set this foot of mine as far

As who goes farthest.

They join hands

CASSIUS There’s a bargain made.

Now know you, Casca, I have moved already

Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans

To undergo with me an enterprise

Of honourable-dangerous consequence.

And I do know by this they stay for me

In Pompey’s Porch; for now, this fearful night,

There is no stir or walking in the streets,

And the complexion of the element

In favour’s like the work we have in hand,

Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.

Enter Cinna

CASCA

Stand close a while, for here comes one in haste.

CASSIUS

‘Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait.

He is a friend.—Cinna, where haste you so?

CINNA

To find out you. Who’s that? Metellus Cimber?

CASSIUS

No, it is Casca, one incorporate

To our attempts. Am I not stayed for, Cinna?

CINNA

I am glad on’t. What a fearful night is this!

There’s two or three of us have seen strange sights.

CASSIUS Am I not stayed for? Tell me.

CINNA Yes, you are.

O Cassius, if you could

But win the noble Brutus to our party—

CASSIUS

Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper,

He gives Cinna letters

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 with wax

Upon old Brutus’ statue. All this done,

Repair to Pompey’s Porch where you shall find us.

Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?

CINNA

All but Metellus Cimber, and he’s gone

To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,

And so bestow these papers as you bade me.

CASSIUS

That done, repair to Pompey’s Theatre.

Exit Cinna

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.

CASCA

O, he sits high in all the people’s hearts,

And that which would appear offence in us

His countenance, like richest alchemy,

Will change to virtue and to worthiness.

CASSIUS

Him and his worth, and our great need of him,

You have right well conceited. Let us go,

For it is after midnight, and ere day

We will awake him and be sure of him. Exeunt

2.1 Enter Brutus in his orchard

BRUTUS What, Lucius, ho!—

I cannot by the progress of the stars

Give guess how near to day.—Lucius, I say!—

I would it were my fault to sleep so soundty.—

When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say! What, Lucius!

Enter Lucius

LUCIUS Called you, my lord?

BRUTUS

Get me a taper in my study, Lucius. When it is lighted, come and call me here.

LUCIUS I will, my lord.

Exit

BRUTUS

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.

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.

Th‘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 colour 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.

Enter Lucius, with a letter

LUCIUS

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.

He gives him the letter

BRUTUS

Get you to bed again; it is not day.

Is not tomorrow, boy, the ides of March?

LUCIUS I know not, sir.

BRUTUS

Look in the calendar and bring me word.

LUCIUS I will, sir. Exit

BRUTUS

The exhalations whizzing in the air

Give so much light that I may read by them.

He opens the letter and reads

‘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.

Enter Lucius

LUCIUS

Sir, March is wasted fifteen days. Knock within

BRUTUS

‘Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks.

Exit Lucius

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 counsel, and the state of man,

Like to a little kingdom, suffers then

The nature of an insurrection.

Enter Lucius

LUCIUS

Sir, ’tis your brother Cassius at the door,

Who doth desire to see you.

BRUTUS

Is he alone?

LUCIUS

No, sir, there are more with him.

BRUTUS Do you know them?

LUCIUS

No, sir; their hats are plucked about their ears,

And half their faces buried in their cloaks,

That by no means I may discover them

By any mark of favour.

BRUTUS Let ’em enter. Exit Lucius

They are the faction. O conspiracy,

Sham‘st thou to show thy dang’rous brow by night,

When evils are most free? O then by day

Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough

To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy.

Hide it in smiles and affability;

For if thou put thy native semblance on,

Not Erebus itself were dim enough

To hide thee from prevention.

Enter the conspirators, muffled: Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius

CASSIUS

I think we are too bold upon your rest.

Good morrow, Brutus. Do we trouble you?

BRUTUS

I have been up this hour, awake all night.

Know I these men that come along with you?

CASSIUS

Yes, every man of them; and no man here

But honours you; and every one doth wish

You had but that opinion of yourself

Which every noble Roman bears of you.

This is Trebonius.

BRUTUS He is welcome hither.

CASSIUS

This, Decius Brutus.

BRUTUS He is welcome too.

CASSIUS

This, Casca; Cinna, this; and this, Metellus Cimber.

BRUTUS They are all welcome.

What watchful cares do interpose themselves

Betwixt your eyes and night?

CASSIUS Shall I entreat a word?

Cassius and Brutus ⌈stand aside and⌉ whisper

DECIUS

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

CASCA No.

CINNA

O pardon, sir, it doth; and yon grey lines

That fret the clouds are messengers of day.

CASCA

You shall confess that you are both deceived.

He points his sword

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

Which is a great way growing on the south,

Weighing the youthful season of the year.

Some two months hence up higher toward the north

He first presents his fire, and the high east

Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.

He points his sword. ⌈Brutus and Cassius join the other conspirators⌉

BRUTUS

Give me your hands all over, one by one.

He shakes their hands

CASSIUS

And let us swear our resolution.

BRUTUS

No, not an oath. If not the face of men,

The sufferance of our souls, the time’s abuse—

If these be motives weak, break off betimes,

And every man hence to his idle bed.

So let high-sighted tyranny range on

Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,

As I am sure they do, bear fire enough

To kindle cowards and to steel with valour

The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen,

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? And what other oath

Than honesty to honesty engaged

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 th’insuppressive mettle of our spirits,

To think that or our cause or our performance

Did need an oath, when every drop of blood

That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,

Is guilty of a several bastardy

If he do break the smallest particle

Of any promise that hath passed from him.

CASSIUS

But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?

I think he will stand very strong with us.

CASCA

Let us not leave him out.

CINNA No, by no means.

METELLUS

O, let us have him, for his silver hairs

Will purchase us a good opinion,

And buy men’s voices to commend our deeds.

It shall be said his judgement ruled our hands.

Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,

But all be buried in his gravity.

BRUTUS

O, name him not! Let us not break with him,

For he will never follow anything

That other men begin.

CASSIUS Then leave him out.

CASCA Indeed he is not fit.

DECIUS

Shall no man else be touched, but only Caesar?

CASSIUS

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.

BRUTUS

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’s 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 spirit,

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 let our hearts, as subtle masters do,

Stir up their servants to an act of rage,

And after seem to chide ’em. This shall make

Our purpose necessary, and not envious;

Which so appearing to the common eyes,

We shall be called purgers, not murderers.

And for Mark Antony, think not of him,

For he can do no more than Caesar’s arm

When Caesar’s head is off.

CASSIUS Yet I fear him;

For in the engrafted love he bears to Caesar—

BRUTUS

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.

TREBONIUS

There is no fear in him. Let him not die;

For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

Clock strikes

BRUTUS

Peace, count the clock.

CASSIUS The clock hath stricken three.

TREBONIUS

’Tis time to part.

CASSIUS But it is doubtful yet

Whether Caesar will come forth today or no;

For he is superstitious grown of late,

Quite from the main opinion he held once

Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies.

It may be these apparent prodigies,

The unaccustomed terror of this night,

And the persuasion of his augurers,

May hold him from the Capitol today.

DECIUS

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,

And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,

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,

For I can give his humour the true bent,

And I will bring him to the Capitol.

CASSIUS

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

BRUTUS

By the eighth hour. Is that the uttermost?

CINNA

Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.

METELLUS

Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard,

Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey.

I wonder none of you have thought of him.

BRUTUS

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.

CASSIUS

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

And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember

What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.

BRUTUS

Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily.

Let not our looks put on our purposes;

But bear it as our Roman actors do,

With untired spirits and formal constancy.

And so good morrow to you every one.

Exeunt all but Brutus

Boy, Lucius!—Fast asleep? It is no matter.

Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber.

Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies

Which busy care draws in the brains of men;

Therefore thou sleep’st so sound.

Enter Portia

PORTIA Brutus, my lord.

BRUTUS

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.

PORTIA

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; 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 humour,

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.

BRUTUS

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

PORTIA

Brutus is wise, and were he not in health

He would embrace the means to come by it.

BRUTUS

Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.

PORTIA

Is Brutus sick? And is it physical

To walk unbracèd and suck up the humours

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 tempt the rheumy and unpurgèd air

To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus,

You have some sick offence within your mind,

Which by the right and virtue of my place

I ought to know of. (Kneeling) 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.

BRUTUS Kneel not, gentle Portia.

PORTIA ⌈rising⌉

I should not need 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.

BRUTUS

You are my true and honourable wife,

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

That visit my sad heart.

PORTIA

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.

I have made strong proof of my constancy,

Giving myself a voluntary wound

Here in the thigh. Can I bear that with patience,

And not my husband’s secrets?

BRUTUS O ye gods,

Render me worthy of this noble wife!

Knocking within

Hark, hark, one knocks. 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.

Leave me with haste.

Exit Portia

Lucius, who’s that knocks?

Enter Lucius, and Ligarius, with a kerchief ⌈round his head⌉

LUCIUS

Here is a sick man that would speak with you.

BRUTUS

Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.—

Boy, stand aside.

⌈Exit⌉ Lucius

Caius Ligarius, how?

LIGARIUS

Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.

BRUTUS

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

To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!

LIGARIUS

I am not sick if Brutus have in hand

Any exploit worthy the name of honour.

BRUTUS

Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,

Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.

LIGARIUS

By all the gods that Romans bow before,

I here discard my sickness.

He pulls off his kerchief Soul of Rome,

Brave son derived from honourable loins,

Thou like an exorcist hast conjured up

My mortifièd spirit. Now bid me run,

And I will strive with things impossible,

Yea, get the better of them. What’s to do?

BRUTUS

A piece of work that will make sick men whole.

LIGARIUS

But are not some whole that we must make sick?

BRUTUS

That must we also. What it is, my Caius,

I shall unfold to thee as we are going

To whom it must be done.

LIGARIUS Set on your foot,

And with a heart new-fired I follow you

To do I know not what; but it sufficeth

That Brutus leads me on.

BRUTUS Follow me then.

Exeunt