Julius Caesar: No Fear Shakespeare Side-by-Side Plain English

ACT ONE

SCENE 1

Original Text

Enter FLAVIUS, MURELLUS, a CARPENTER, a COBBLER, and certain other COMMONERS over the stage

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

5

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

CARPENTER

Why, sir, a carpenter.

MURELLUS

Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?

What dost thou with thy best apparel on?

—You, sir, what trade are you?

COBBLER

10

Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler.

MURELLUS

But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.

COBBLER

A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience, which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.

MURELLUS

15

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

COBBLER

Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me. Yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.

MURELLUS

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

COBBLER

20

Why, sir, cobble you.

FLAVIUS

Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

COBBLER

Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl. I meddle with no tradesman’s matters nor women’s matters, but withal I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes. When they are in great

25

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 today?

Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

COBBLER

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

30

work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.

MURELLUS

Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome

To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?

35

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

O you hard hearts, you cruèl men of Rome,

Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft

Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,

To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops,

40

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

45

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?

50

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

55

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

60

Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

Exeunt CARPENTER, COBBLER, and all the other 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

65

If you do find them decked with ceremonies.

MURELLUS

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

70

And drive away the vulgar from the streets.

So do you too, where you perceive them thick.

These growing feathers plucked from Caesar’s wing

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,

Who else would soar above the view of men

75

And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

Exeunt severally

ACT ONE

SCENE 1

Modern Text

FLAVIUS and MURELLUS enter and speak to a CARPENTER, a COBBLER, and some other commoners.

FLAVIUS

Get out of here! Go home, you lazy men. What, is today a holiday? Don’t you know that working men aren’t supposed to walk around on a workday without wearing their work clothes? You there, speak up. What’s your occupation?

CARPENTER

I’m a carpenter, sir.

MURELLUS

Where are your leather apron and your ruler? What are you doing, wearing your best clothes? And you, sir, what’s your trade?

COBBLER

Well, compared to a fine workman, you might call me a mere cobbler.

MURELLUS

But what’s your trade? Answer me straightforwardly.

COBBLER

It is a trade, sir, that I practice with a clear conscience.

I am a mender of worn soles.

MURELLUS

What trade, boy? You insolent rascal, what trade?

COBBLER

Sir, please, don’t be angry. But if your soles are worn out, I can mend you.

MURELLUS

What do you mean by that? Mend me, you impertinent fellow?!

COBBLER

Cobble you, sir.

FLAVIUS

You’re a cobbler, are you?

COBBLER

Sir, I make my living using an awl. I stick to my work; I don’t meddle in politics or chase women. I’m a surgeon to old shoes. When they’re endangered, I save them. The noblest men who ever walked on leather have walked on my handiwork.

FLAVIUS

But why aren’t you in your shop today? Why are you leading these men through the streets?

COBBLER

Well, to wear out their shoes and get myself more work. Seriously, though, we took the day off to see Caesar, sir, and celebrate his triumph.

MURELLUS

Why would you celebrate it? What victory does he bring home? What foreign lands has he conquered and captive foreigners chained to his chariot wheels? You blockheads, you unfeeling men! You hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, didn’t you know Pompey? Many times you climbed up on walls and battlements, towers and windows—even chimney tops—with your babies in your arms, and sat there patiently all day waiting to see great Pompey ride through the streets of Rome. And when you caught a glimpse of his chariot, didn’t you shout so loud that the river Tiber shook as it echoed? And now you put on your best clothes? And now you take a holiday?

And now you toss flowers in the path of Caesar, who comes in triumph over Pompey’s defeated sons? Go home! Run to your houses, fall on your knees, and pray to the gods to spare you the pain that you deserve for such ingratitude.

FLAVIUS

Go, go, good countrymen, and to make up for having done wrong, gather up all the poor men like yourselves, lead them to the Tiber, and weep into the river until it overflows its banks.

The CARPENTER, COBBLER, and all the commoners exit.

Well, that ought to move even the most thickheaded of them. There they go, feeling so guilty they’re now tongue-tied—they don’t have a thing to say. You go down toward the Capitol, and I’ll go this way. Undress the statues if they’re decorated in honor of Caesar.

MURELLUS

Can we do that? You know it’s the feast of Lupercal.

FLAVIUS

It doesn’t matter. Make sure that none of the statues are decorated in tribute to Caesar. I’ll walk around and force the commoners off the streets. You do the same, wherever the crowds are thick. If we take away Caesar’s support, he’ll have to come back down to earth; otherwise, he’ll fly too high and keep the rest of us in a state of fear and obedience.

They exit in different directions.

ACT 1, SCENE 2

Original Text

Flourish

Enter CAESAR, ANTONY, dressed for the course, CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, and a SOOTHSAYER in a throng of plebians. After them, MURELLUS and FLAVIUS

CAESAR

Calphurnia!

CASCA

Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.

CAESAR

Calphurnia!

CALPHURNIA

Here, my lord.

CAESAR

5

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 Calphurnia, for our elders say

10

The barren, touchèd in this holy chase,

Shake off their sterile curse.

ANTONY

I shall remember.

When Caesar says, do this, it is performed.

CAESAR

Set on, and leave no ceremony out.

Music

SOOTHSAYER

Caesar!

CAESAR

15

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 turned to hear.

SOOTHSAYER

20

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.

SOOTHSAYER approaches

CAESAR

What sayst thou to me now? Speak once again.

SOOTHSAYER

25

Beware the ides of March.

CAESAR

He is a dreamer. Let us leave him. Pass!

Sennet. Exeunt. Manent BRUTUS and CASSIUS

CASSIUS

Will you go see the order of the course?

BRUTUS

Not I.

CASSIUS

I pray you, do.

BRUTUS

30

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

35

I have not from your eyes that gentleness

And show of love as I was wont to have.

You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand

Over your friend that loves you.

BRUTUS

Cassius,

Be not deceived. If I have veiled my look,

40

I turn the trouble of my countenance

Merely upon myself. Vexèd I am

Of late with passions of some difference,

Conceptions only proper to myself,

Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors.

45

But let not therefore, my good friends, be grieved—

Among which number, Cassius, be you one—

Nor construe any further my neglect

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,

Forgets the shows of love to other men.

CASSIUS

50

Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,

By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried

Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

BRUTUS

No, Cassius, for the eye sees not itself

55

But by reflection, by some other things.

CASSIUS

’Tis just.

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,

That you have no such mirrors as will turn

Your hidden worthiness into your eye

60

That you might see your shadow. I have heard

Where many of the best respect in Rome,

Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus

And groaning underneath this age’s yoke,

Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes.

BRUTUS

65

Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,

That you would have me seek into myself

For that which is not in me?

CASSIUS

Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear.

And since you know you cannot see yourself

70

So well as by reflection, I, your glass,

Will modestly discover to yourself

That of yourself which you yet know not of.

And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus.

Were I a common laugher, or did use

75

To stale with ordinary oaths my love

To every new protester, if you know

That I do fawn on men and hug them hard

And, after, scandal them, or if you know

That I profess myself in banqueting

80

To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

Flourish, and shout within

BRUTUS