In Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, Act 3 Scene 1 depicts the conspirators' assassination of Caesar on the Ides of March, where Brutus and his allies justify their betrayal as liberating Rome from tyranny, but Mark Antony's funeral oration reveals the seeds of civil war by prophesying that Caesar's spirit will return with vengeance, ultimately leading to the conflict between Antony and Octavius against the conspirators.
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Julius Caesar | Act 3 Scene 1 | "The Blood of Revolution"
Added:Next Chapter Podcast >> [music] [music] [music] [screaming] >> The Ides of March have come.
>> Aye, but not done.
>> Huh?
>> But not done.
>> Here, sir.
>> Read this note.
>> Wait. Trebonius does desire you to read it at your best leisure, this his humble suit.
>> Read mine first, for mine's more suited that it fits the brother minister better.
>> Read it, sir.
>> What is best fit for my taste shall be last, sir.
>> What urged you your petitions in the street? Go to the temple.
>> I wish your enterprise today may thrive.
>> What enterprise, Popilius?
>> Fare you well.
>> What said Popilius Lena?
>> He wished today our enterprise might thrive.
I fear our purpose is discovered.
>> Look how he greets to the brother minister. Observe.
>> Casca, be ready. Do not fear prevention.
>> I'm ready.
>> Brutus, what shall be done?
>> Cassius, be constant.
Popilius knows his time, for look you, Brutus, he draws Mark Antony out of the way.
>> I am listening. I am listening.
>> Decius, where is Metellus Cimber?
Let her go and presently proffer her suit to our brother.
>> She is addressed.
>> Press near and second her.
>> Casca, remember, you are the first that feels your hand.
>> Are we all ready?
What is now wrong that we must set right, dear brothers?
>> Most high and most loyal minister, Metellus Cimber throws before your seat a humble heart.
>> I must prevent you, Cimber.
These kneelings and these bumbling courtesies might fire the blood of ordinary men and turn what settled law and first decree into the games of children.
Don't be fooled to think that I bear such rebel blood that will be thawed from its brisk quality with that which melts fools. I mean flattery.
Low crooks, bowing and base puppy fawning.
My brother by decree is banishing.
If you shall bend and pray and fawn for him, I'll boot you like a cur out of my way.
No, I'm not unjust, nor without cause, and will not grant repeal of the sentence.
>> Is there no voice more worthy than my own to sound more sweetly in your ear for the repealing of my own banished brother?
>> I kiss your hand, but not in flattery, brother Metellus. Please desire that Publius Cimber may have immediate freedom.
>> Why, Brutus?
>> Pardon him, Metellus. Brother, pardon.
As low as to your foot do I to drop to beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
>> I could be quite moved if I were like you.
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me.
But I'm as constant as the northern star, of whose true fixed and resting quality there is no equal in the firmament.
The skies are painted with innumerable sparks. They are all a flame, and everyone shines bright, but there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So in the world, tis furnished well with men, and men are flesh and blood and indecisive, yet in that number I do know but one that unassailable holds on his rank unshaken of motion.
And that I am he, let me a little show it even in this, that I was constant that Cinna should be banished, and constant still remain to keep him so.
>> What, brother Minster?
>> Get your hand OUT OF MY POCKET.
>> AWAY, CINNA.
Are there not enough with the world on my shoulders?
>> But, my king >> Somebody sing to me.
And sing well.
Oh, Caesar. Wait.
Does not Brutus bootlessly kneel?
>> Speak, hands. FOR ME.
>> [music] >> ET TU, BRUTE?
THEN FALL, CAESAR.
>> I'm feeling good.
>> Liberty! WE DID THIS FOR FREEDOM.
>> LISTEN TO >> [screaming] >> LIBERTY IS DEAD.
>> WE ARE THE FREEDOM FIGHTERS.
>> HE DID THIS.
>> WE ARE THE FREEDOM >> LIBERTY!
>> YES.
YES.
COME ON. LIBERTY!
FREEDOM! TYRANNY IS DEAD. WE KILLED TYRANNY. WE KILLED TYRANNY.
LET'S GO.
>> [screaming] >> SOME TO THE PLEBEIANS, TO THE PULPITS, cry out liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement.
People and senators, be not affrighted.
Fly not. Stand still. AMBITION'S DEBT IS PAID.
>> Go to the podium, Brutus.
>> And Cassius, too. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar should chance >> Talk not of standing, Metellus.
Publius, good cheer. There is no harm intended to your being, nor to anyone else. So, tell them, Publius.
>> And leave us, Publius, lest that the people rushing on us should do your life the mischief.
>> Do so, and let no man bear this deed but we, the proud doers.
>> Where is Antony?
>> Fled to his house amazed. Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run as if 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 gamble on.
>> Why, he that cuts off 20 years of life cuts off as many years of fearing death.
>> Grant that, and then death is a benefit.
>> So, are we his brothers that have abridged his time of fearing death?
>> Stoop, men, stoop, and let us bathe our hands in his hot blood up to the elbows, and wipe his spill on our shirts.
Then, walk we forth down the streets, waving our red weapons o'er our heads as if they were placards. Let's cry peace, freedom, and liberty like the forefathers.
>> Stoop, then, and wash.
>> How many ages hence shall this our [music] lofty scene be acted over in states unborn and accents yet unknown?
>> How many times shall he bleed in sport no worthier than dust?
>> So oft as that show be so often shall the gang of us be called the men that gave their country liberty >> Oh 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 bid me say, "If Brutus will reveal that Antony may safely come to him and be resolved how Caesar had deserved to lie in death."
Antony shall not love Caesar dead so well as Brutus living, but will follow the fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus throughout the hazards of this untrod moment with all true faith.
So says my master Antony.
>> [laughter] >> 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 honor depart untouched.
I know that we shall have him well to friend.
>> I wish we may.
But yet I have a mind that fears him much.
And my misgivings [music] still fall far too close to home.
>> But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony.
>> Oh, mighty Caesar, do you lie so low?
Are all your conquests, glories, your spoils shrunk to this little measure?
Farewell.
>> I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, who else must still be bled, who else is rank.
If I myself, there is no hour so fit as Caesar's death's 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 you, if you bear me ill, now, whilst your bloodied hands do reek and smoke, fulfill your pleasure.
Live a thousand years, and I shall not find myself so fit to die. No place will please me so, no means of death, as here by Caesar and by you cut off, the movers and the shakers of this age.
>> Oh, >> 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 you see just our hands, and this the butcher's business they have done. Our hearts you see not.
They are pitiful, and pity to the general wrong of Rome has done this deed on Caesar. For your part, to you our swords have rounded tips, Mark Antony. Our arms, both strong and cruel, and our hearts of brotherly love do receive you in with all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
>> Your vote shall be as strong as any man's in the reordering of the new state. Only be patient till we have appeased the ringing throng, beside themselves with fear, and then we will deliver you the grounds why I, who did love Caesar when I struck him, have thus proceeded.
>> I don't doubt your wisdom.
Let each man offer me his bloody hand.
First, Marcus Brutus, I will shake with you.
Peace.
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.
Gentlemen all, alas, what shall I say?
My credit now stands on such slippery ground that one of two bad ways you must regard me, either a coward or a flatterer.
That I did love you, Caesar, 'tis true.
If then your spirit look upon us now, shall it not wound you greater than your death to see your Antony making his peace, shaking the bloody fingers of your foes?
O Caesar, in the presence of thy corpse, had I as many eyes as you have wounds, weeping as fast as they stream forth your blood, it would become me better than to join in terms of friendship with your enemies.
Forgive me, Julius.
Here were you cut down, brave heart.
Here did you fall.
And here your hunter stand, marked by your death and stained by your blood.
How like a deer pierced by many princes do you lie here.
>> Mark Antony, >> pardon me, Caius Cassius.
The enemies of Caesar shall say this.
So, from a friend, it's sober moderation.
>> I don't blame you for praising Caesar so, but what compact mean you to have with us?
Will you be sworn in number of our friends, or shall we leave and not depend on you?
>> Therefore, I took your hands, but was indeed swayed from the point by looking down on Caesar.
Friends am I with you all, and love you all upon this hope that you shall give me reasons why and wherein Caesar was dangerous.
>> Or else were this a savage spectacle.
Our reasons are so full of good regard that were you Antony the son of Caesar, you would be satisfied.
>> That's all I seek.
And am moreover suing that I may produce his body to the marketplace, and in the pulpit, as becomes friend, speak in the order of his funeral.
>> You shall, Mark Antony.
>> Brutus, a word with you.
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 Caesar's death. What Antony shall speak, I will insist he speaks by leave and my permission, and that we are contented Caesar shall have all true rights and lawful ceremonies. It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
>> I know not what may fall, and I don't like it.
>> Mark Antony, here. You take Caesar's body.
You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, but speak all good you can devise of Caesar, and say you do it by our permission, else you shall not have any hand at all about his funeral.
And you shall speak in the same pulpit to where I am going after my speech is ended. Be it so.
I do desire no more.
Prepare the body then and follow us.
Pardon me, you bleeding piece of earth that I am meek and gentle with these butchers.
You are the ruins of the noblest man that ever lived within the scope of time.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood.
Over your wounds now, I do prophesy, which like mute mouths do ope their ruby lips as if 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 hinder all the parts of our country.
Blood and destruction shall be so in use and deadly objects so familiar that mothers shall but smile when they behold their infants ripped apart with the hands of war.
All pity choked with custom of deadly deeds and Caesar's spirit spoiling for revenge with Satan 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 rotting men groaning for burial.
You work for Octavius Caesar, do you not? I do, Mark Antony.
Caesar did right for him to come.
>> He did receive his letters and is coming.
And bid me say to you by word of mouth Caesar >> Your heart is full.
Go find a spot and weep.
>> Passion, I see, is catching.
For my eyes seeing those beads of sorrow drip from yours bring mine to water.
Is your master coming?
>> He lies tonight within 21 miles of our fair city.
>> Ride back with speed and tell him what has chanced.
Here is mourning a dangerous place.
No city of safety for Octavius yet.
Hurry back and tell him so.
Yet, stay a while.
You shan't ride back till I have borne this corpse into the streets.
There shall I try in my oration how the people take the cruel issue of these bloody men, according to which you shall impart to young Octavius of the state of things.
Come, lend me your hand.
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And remember, beware [music] the ides of March.
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