Название | JULIUS CAESAR |
---|---|
Автор произведения | William Shakespeare |
Жанр | Языкознание |
Серия | |
Издательство | Языкознание |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9788027234080 |
That unassailable holds on his rank,
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.
CINNA.
O Caesar,—
CAESAR.
Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
DECIUS.
Great Caesar,—
CAESAR.
Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
CASCA.
Speak, hands, for me!
[Casca stabs Caesar in the neck. Caesar catches hold of his arm.
He is then stabbed by several other Conspirators, and at last by
Marcus Brutus.]
CAESAR.
Et tu, Brute?— Then fall, Caesar!
[Dies. The Senators and People retire in confusion.]
CINNA.
Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!—
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
CASSIUS.
Some to the common pulpits and cry out,
“Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!”
BRUTUS.
People and Senators, be not affrighted;
Fly not; stand still; ambition’s debt is paid.
CASCA.
Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
DECIUS.
And Cassius too.
BRUTUS.
Where’s Publius?
CINNA.
Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
METELLUS.
Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar’s
Should chance—
BRUTUS.
Talk not of standing.—Publius, good cheer!
There is no harm intended to your person,
Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius.
CASSIUS.
And leave us, Publius; lest that the people
Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
BRUTUS.
Do so;—and let no man abide this deed
But we the doers.
[Re-enter Trebonius.]
CASSIUS.
Where’s Antony?
TREBONIUS.
Fled to his house amazed.
Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run,
As it were doomsday.
BRUTUS.
Fates, we will know your pleasures:
That we shall die, we know; ‘tis but the time
And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
CASCA.
Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
BRUTUS.
Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
So are we Caesar’s friends, that have abridged
His time of fearing death.—Stoop, Romans, stoop,
And let us bathe our hands in Caesar’s blood
Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords:
Then walk we forth, even to the marketplace,
And waving our red weapons o’er our heads,
Let’s all cry, “Peace, freedom, and liberty!”
CASSIUS.
Stoop then, and wash. How many ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted o’er
In States unborn and accents yet unknown!
BRUTUS.
How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompey’s basis lies along
No worthier than the dust!
CASSIUS.
So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of us be call’d
The men that gave their country liberty.
DECIUS.
What, shall we forth?
CASSIUS.
Ay, every man away:
Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
BRUTUS.
Soft, who comes here?
[Enter a Servant.]
A friend of Antony’s.
SERVANT.
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;
Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving;
Say I love Brutus and I honor him;
Say I fear’d Caesar, honour’d him, and loved him.
If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
May safely come to him, and be resolved
How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death,
Mark Antony shall not love Caesar 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.
BRUTUS.
Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;
I never thought him worse.
Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
He shall be satisfied and, by my honour,
Depart untouch’d.
SERVANT.
I’ll fetch him presently.
[Exit.]
BRUTUS.
I know that we shall have him well to friend.
CASSIUS.
I wish we may: but yet have I a mind
That fears him much; and my misgiving still
Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
BRUTUS.
But here comes Antony.—
[Re-enter Antony.]
Welcome, Mark Antony.
ANTONY.
O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lie so low?
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.—