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CÆSAR. - The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

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CÆSAR. - Voltaire, The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems). [1901]

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From The Works of Voltaire, A Contemporary Version, (New York: E.R. DuMont, 1901), A Critique and Biography by John Morley, notes by Tobias Smollett, trans. William F. Fleming. Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

Author: Voltaire
Translator: William F. Fleming
Notes: Tobias Smollett

Part of: The Works of Voltaire. A Contemporary Version, in 21 vols.

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CÆSAR.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

JULIUS CÆSAR, Dictator.
MARK ANTONY, Consul.
JUNIUS BRUTUS, Prætor.
CASSIUS, }	Senators.
CIMBER, }
DECIMUS, }
DOLABELLA, }
CASCA, }
ROMANS.
LICTORS.

SCENE, the Capitol at Rome.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

cæsar, antony.

antony.

Yes, Cæsar, thou shalt reign; the day is come,
Propitious to thy vows, when haughty Rome
At length shall know, and shall reward thy virtues,
Long time unjust to thee and to herself,
Shall hail thee on the throne her great avenger,
Her conqueror, and her king: on Antony
Thou mayest depend, who never felt the sting
Of envy, but still held thy honor dear,
Even as his own: thou knowest I formed the chain
Which for the neck of Rome thou hast prepared,
Content to be the second of mankind;
Fonder to bind the wreath on Cæsar’s brows
Than rule myself: thou answerest me with sighs,
And the fair prospect that elates my soul
Depresses thine; the master of the world,
The king of Rome complains: can Cæsar mourn?
Can Cæsar fear? what can inspire a soul
Like thine with terror?

cÆsar.

Friendship, Antony:
But I must open all my heart to thee.
Thou knowest that I must leave thee, fate decrees
We must transport our arms to Babylon,
To wash out, in the savage Parthian’s blood,
The shame of Crassus, and the Roman people:
My touring eagle to the Bosphorus
Shall wing his way, my faithful legions wait
But for the royal wreath around my brows,
The wished-for signal: wherefore should not Cæsar
Subdue a kingdom Alexander conquered?
The Rhine submitted, why should not Euphrates
To Cæsar’s arms? that hope shall animate
The bosom of thy friend, yet blind him not;
Fortune perhaps, grown weary of her favors,
At length may leave me; Pompey she betrayed,
And may quit Cæsar too; the deepest wisdom
Is oft deceived: where faction reigns, our fate
Suspended hangs, as on the battle’s edge,
’Tis but a step from triumph to disgrace.
Cæsar, thou knowest, these forty years hath served,
Commanded, conquered, seen the fate of empires
Lodged in my hands, and trust me, Antony,
In every action the decisive stroke
Depended on a moment: but whate’er
Chance may bring forth, my heart has nought to fear,
Cæsar shall conquer without pride, or die
Without complaint: but from thy tender friendship
One precious boon I must demand of thee;
My children, Antony, will find a friend,
I hope, in thee: I hope that Rome, by me
Defended, and by me subdued, will own
Thy power; thou shalt, with my sons, enjoy
The name of king, and rule o’er all mankind;
Remember, ’tis the last request I make,
That thou wilt be a father to my children;
I ask not for thy oaths, those idle sureties
Of human faith; thy promise is sufficient;
For purer is thy word than sacred altars,
Oft stained with human perjury and falsehood.

antony.

It was enough to leave thy Antony,
And seek for death in foreign climes without him;
To Asia’s plains when glory calls my friend,
That I must stay in Italy to plead
My Cæsar’s cause, but it afflicts me more
To see thy noble heart dejected thus,
Distrusting fortune, and presaging ills
That ne’er may happen: wherefore talkest thou thus,
Of Antony’s dividing with thy sons,
Thy fortunes, and thy fame? thou hast no son
But thy Octavius, no adopted heir.

cÆsar.

I can no longer hide from thee, my friend,
The griefs that prey upon a father’s heart;
Octavius, by the laws, is made the son
Of Cæsar’s choice, I have appointed him
My successor; but fate (or shall I call it
Propitious, or unkind I know not which)
Hath made me father to a real son,
One whom I love with tenderness, alas!
But ill repaid by him.

antony.

Can there be one
So base and so ungrateful, so unworthy
The noble blood from whence he sprang?

cÆsar.

Attend,
And mark me well: thou knowest the unhappy Brutus,
Instructed in the school of savage virtue
By the stern Cato, he whose furious zeal
Defends our ancient laws, the rigid foe
Of arbitrary power, who, still in arms
Against me, gives my enemies new hope
And new support, who in Thessalia’s plains
Was late my captive, whose life twice I saved
Spite of himself, was born amongst my foes,
And bred up far from me.

antony.

Could Brutus, could—

cÆsar.

Believe not me, but read this paper.

antony.

Gods!
The fierce Servilia! Cato’s haughty sister!

cÆsar.

The same; a private marriage made us one.
Cato, when first our public discord rose,
Indignant forced her to another’s arms,
But her new husband, on the very day
That he espoused her, died; and Cæsar’s son
Was brought up in the name of Brutus, still
Was he reserved, ye gods, to hate his father!
But read, this fatal scroll will tell thee all.

antony.

[Reads the paper.
Cæsar, I die; the wrath of heaven, that cuts
My thread of life, alone can end my love.
Farewell: remember, Brutus is thy son:
And may that tender friendship for his father,
Which at her latest hour Servilia felt,
Live in his mind, and make him worthy of thee.
Has cruel fate to Cæsar given a son
So much unlike him!

cÆsar.

Brutus hath his virtues:
His haughty courage, though it angers me,
Flatters my pride; I feel a secret pleasure,
Though it offends me: his undaunted heart
Rises superior, and even conquers mine;
I am astonished at him, and his firmness
So shakes my soul I know not how to blame him,
When he condemns the arbitrary power
I have assumed: his genius towers above me:
As man and father, some bewitching charm
Deceives me still, and pleads his cause within;
Or, born a Roman, still my country’s voice,
Spite of myself, breaks forth, and calls me tyrant:
Perhaps that liberty I mean to oppress,
Stronger than Cæsar, forces me to love him:
Nay, more: if Brutus owes to me his life,
The son of Cæsar must abhor a master;
For in my early years I thought like him,
Detested Sulla, and the name of tyrant:
Myself had been like him, a citizen,
The partisan of liberty and Rome,
Had not that proud usurper Pompey strove
To crush my fame beneath his growing power;
For I was born ambitious, fierce of soul,
Yet brave and virtuous; if I were not Cæsar,
I would be Brutus—but we all must yield
To our condition: Brutus soon will talk
Another language, when he knows his birth:
Trust me, the royal wreath that’s destined for him
Will bend the stubborn temper of his soul:
For manners change with fortune: nature, blood
My favors, thy advice, united all
With interest and with duty, must restore him.

antony.

I doubt it much; I know his savage firmness;
The sect he follows is a sect of fools,
Perverse and obstinate, whom nothing moves,
Intractable and bold; they make a merit
Of hardening minds against humanity,
Whilst angry nature falls subdued before them;
To these he listens, and to these alone.
The horrid tenets which these sons of pride
Call duty, hold dominion absolute,
And lord it o’er their adamantine hearts.
Cato himself, that wretched stoic, he
Who fell at Utica, that brain-sick hero,
Who spurned thy proffered pardon, and preferred
A shameful death to Cæsar’s tender friendship,
Even Cato was less stern, less proud, than he,
Less to be feared than this ungrateful son,
Whom thy good heart would thus endear to thee.

cÆsar.

What hast thou said, my friend? thy words alarm me.

antony.

I love thee, Cæsar, and must not deceive thee.

cÆsar.

Time softens all things.

antony.

I despair of it.

cÆsar.

What! will his hatred—

antony.

Trust me.

cÆsar.

Well, no matter:
I am a father still: I oft have served,
Nay saved, my bitterest foes: I would be loved
By Rome and by my son; my clemency
Shall conquer every heart; the world subdued,
Shall join with Brutus to adore my power.
Thou must assist me in the great design;
Thou, Antony, didst lend thy useful arm
To aid me in the conquest of mankind,
Thou too must conquer Brutus; try to soften
His spirit, and prepare his savage virtue
For the important secret which my heart
Dreads to reveal; yet he must know it soon.

antony.

I will do all, but cannot hope success.

SCENE II.

cæsar, antony, dolabella.

dolabella.

Cæsar, the senators attend your pleasure,
Wait your supreme command, and crave admittance.

cÆsar.

They’ve staid too long already; let them enter.

antony.

They come, with hatred and sour discontent
On every brow.

SCENE III.

cæsar, antony, brutus, cassius, cimber, decimus, cinna, casca, etc., lictors.

cÆsar.

[Seated.
Welcome, ye pillars of immortal Rome,
And friends to Cæsar: Cimber, Decimus,
Cassius, and Cinna, and thou, dearest Brutus,
Come near: at length behold the important hour
When Cæsar, if the gods shall smile upon me,
Goes to complete the conquest of the world,
To seize the throne of Cyrus, and appease
Our Crassus’ angry shade: the time is come
When what remains of universal empire,
Still unsubdued, shall yield to Rome and me:
Euphrates calls; to-morrow I depart.
Brutus and Cassius follow me to Asia;
Antony’s care is Gaul and Italy;
Cimber must rule o’er the subjected kings
Of Betis’ borders, and the Atlantic sea;
Lycia and Greece I give to Decimus;
Pontus to thee, Marcellus; and to Casca
All Syria’s wide domain. Our conquests thus
Protected, and Rome left in happiness
And union, naught remains but to determine
What title Cæsar, arbiter of Rome,
And of the world, shall wear: by your command
Sulla was called Dictator; Marius, Consul;
And Pompey, Emperor: I subdued the last,
Let that suffice; new empires will demand
New names; we must have one more great, more sacred,
Less liable to change; one long revered
In ancient Rome, and dear to all mankind.
’Tis rumored through the world, that Rome, in vain,
Wars on the Persian; that a king alone
Must conquer there, and only kings can rule:
Cæsar will go, but Cæsar is no king,
An humble citizen alone, but famed
For his past service, subject to the will
And fond caprice of an uncertain people,
Who yet may thwart—you understand me, Romans,
You know my hopes, my merit, and—my power.

cimber.

Cæsar, I’ll answer thee. Those crowns, and sceptres,
That world you give us, to the people’s eye,
And to the senate, jealous of their rights,
Appear an injury, not a favor done,
On such conditions: Marius, Pompey, Sulla,
Those proud usurpers of the people’s power,
Never pretended thus to canton out
Rome’s conquests, or to dictate thus, like kings:
We hoped from Cæsar’s clemency a gift
More precious, and a nobler treasure, far
Above the kingdoms which thy bounty gave.

cÆsar.

What wouldst thou ask of Cæsar?

cimber.

Liberty.

cassius.

It was thy promise; thou didst swear thyself
Forever to uproot despotic power.
I thought the happy moment now was come,
When the world’s conqueror should have made us happy:
Rome bathed in blood, deserted, and enslaved,
Found comfort in that hope: we were her children
Before we were thy slaves—I know thy power,
And know what thou hast sworn.

brutus.

Be Cæsar great,
But Rome still free: the mistress of the world
Abroad, shall she be manacled at home!
Rule o’er the universe, be called a queen,
And yet be fettered! What will it avail
My wretched country, and her sons, to know
That Cæsar has new slaves to trample on?
Perhaps the Persians are not our worst foes,
We may have greater. I’ve no more to offer.

cÆsar.

And thou, too, Brutus!

antony.

[Aside to Cæsar.
Mark their insolence;
And see if they are worthy of thy favor.

cÆsar.

And dare ye thus, ungrateful as ye are,
Abuse my patience, and exhaust my love?
My subjects all, by right of conquest mine,
I bought you with my sword; ye spurned indeed
At Marius, but ye were the slaves of Pompey,
And only breathed till Cæsar’s wrath, too long
Restrained already, bursts with fury on you.
Ye vile republicans, by mercy taught
But to rebel, ye dared not thus have talked
To Sulla; but my clemency provokes
Your base ungrateful spirit to insult me:
Cæsar, you think, will never condescend
To take revenge, this makes you talk so bravely
Of Rome and of your country, and affect
This patriot pride, this grandeur of the soul,
Before your conqueror: to Pharsalia’s plains
You should have brought them; fortune now has placed us
At distance from each other: henceforth learn,
Who knows not how to conquer, must obey.

brutus.

No: Cæsar we shall only learn to die.
Who begged his life in Thessaly? Thou gavest
What was not asked indeed, but to debase us,
And we abhor the gift on such conditions.
Obey thee? No: pour forth thy wrath upon us;
Begin with me; strike here, if thou wouldst reign.

cÆsar.

Brutus attend—you may retire.
[To the senators, who go out.
What words
Are these? away! They pierce my very soul;
Cæsar is far from wishing for thy death:
Leave this rash senate, I entreat thee—stay,
Thou only canst disarm me; thee alone
Cæsar would wish to love: stay with me, Brutus.

brutus.

But keep thy promise, and I’m thine forever:
If thou art a tyrant, I detest thy love;
I will not stay with Antony or thee:
He is no Roman, for he wants a king.

SCENE IV.

cæsar, antony.

antony.

What says my friend? Did Antony deceive him?
Thinkest thou that nature e’er can move a soul
So fierce, and so inflexible? No: leave,
I beg thee, unrevealed the fatal secret
That weighs upon thy heart: let him deplore
The fall of Rome, but never let him know
Whose blood he persecutes: he merits not
His noble birth, ungrateful to thy goodness,
Ungrateful to thy love; henceforth renounce him.

cÆsar.

I cannot, for I love him still.

antony.

Then cease
To love thy power, renounce the diadem,
Descend from the high rank which thou hast borne;
Mercy ill suits with thy authority:
It checks thy growing power, and mars thy purpose.
What! Rome beneath thy laws, and suffer Cassius
To thwart thee thus; and Cimber, too, and Cinna;
Shall senators like these, obscure and low,
Talk thus before the sovereign of mankind?
The vanquished wretches breathe, and brave their master?

cÆsar.

My equals born, they yielded to my arms;
Too much above to fear them, I forgive
Their trembling at the yoke which they must bear.

antony.

Marius had been less sparing of their blood,
And Sulla would have punished them.

cÆsar.

That Sulla
Was a barbarian, born but to oppress:
Murder and rage were all his policy,
And all his grandeur: amidst sighs and groans,
And punishments and death, he governed Rome:
He was its terror, I would be its joy,
And its delight: I know the people well;
A day will change them; lavish of their love
And of their hatred; both are gained with ease:
My grandeur galls them, but my clemency
Attracts them still: ’tis policy to pardon
The foe that cannot hurt us, and an air
Of liberty will reconcile their minds,
And make their chains fit easy: I must cover
The pit with flowers, if I would draw them to it,
And soothe the tiger ere I bind him fast.
Yes, I will please them, even whilst I oppress,
Charm, and enslave them, and revenge myself
On every foe by forcing him to love me.

antony.

You must be feared, or you will never reign.

cÆsar.

In battle only Cæsar would be feared.

antony.

The people will abuse thy easy nature.

cÆsar.

I tell thee, no; the people worship me.
Behold that temple there, which Rome hath raised
To Cæsar’s clemency.

antony.

They’ll raise another
Perhaps to vengeance: thou hast cause to dread
Their rancorous hearts, still cherished by despair,
Cruel by duty, and the slaves of Rome.
Cassius alarmed foresees that Antony
This day shall place the crown on Cæsar’s head,
And even before thy face they murmured at it.
’Twere best to gain the most impetuous of them,
And win them to our interest: to prevent
All danger, Cæsar must constrain himself.

cÆsar.

Could I have feared, I would have punished them;
Advise me not to make myself detested:
Cæsar has learned to fight, has learned to conquer,
But knows not how to punish: let us hence,
And, strangers to suspicion and revenge,
Rule without violence o’er the conquered world.

End of the First Act.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

brutus, antony, dolabella.

antony.

This bitterness of hate, this proud refusal,
Breathes less of virtue than of savage fierceness:
Cæsar’s indulgence, his high rank and power,
At least deserved a milder treatment from you,
And more complacency; you might at least
Have talked with him: did you but know with whom
You are at variance, you would shudder at it—

brutus.

I shudder now; but ’tis at hearing thee;
Foe to thy country, which thou hast betrayed
And sold to Cæsar, thinkest thou to deceive
Or to corrupt me? go, and cringe to him,
Fawn on your haughty lord. I know your arts,
You long to be a slave; you want a king.
Yet you are Roman.

antony.

Brutus, I’m a friend,
And boast a heart that loves humanity:
I am contented with this humble virtue:
But thou wouldst be a hero, yet art naught
But a barbarian; and thy savage pride
Grew fond of virtue, but to make us loathe her.

SCENE II.

brutus.

[Alone.
What baseness, heaven! what ignominious slaves!
Behold, my wretched country, your support,
Horatius, Decius, and thou great avenger
Of sacred laws, Brutus, my kindred blood,
Behold your successors; just gods, are these
The noble relics of our Roman grandeur?
We kiss the hand that binds us to the yoke;
Cæsar has ravished even our virtues from us:
I look for Rome, but find it now no more.
O ye immortal heroes, ye who fell
In her defence, whose images now strike
My soul with awe, and fill my eyes with tears,
The family of Pompey, and thou Cato,
Thou last of Scipio’s glorious race, I feel
A lively spark of your immortal virtues
Rebound from you, and animate my heart:
You live in Brutus still, and in his breast
Have left the honor of the Roman name
The tyrant would have stolen. What do I see,
Great Pompey, at thy statue’s foot? a paper.
[He takes the paper and reads.
Brutus, thou sleepest, and Rome’s in chains.
O Rome,
My eyes are ever open still for thee;
Reproach me not for chains which I abhor.
Another paper! No: thou art not Brutus:
Cruel reflection! Tyrant Cæsar, tremble,
This stroke must end thee: no: thou art not Brutus,
I am, I will be Brutus; I will perish,
Or set my country free: Rome still, I see,
Has virtuous hearts: she calls for an avenger,
And has her eyes on Brutus; she awakens
My sleeping soul, and shakes my tardy hand:
She calls for blood, and shall be satisfied.

SCENE III.

brutus, cassius, cinna, casca, decimus,Attendants

cassius.

’Tis the last time we may embrace, my friends.
Buried beneath the ruins of his country,
Cassius must fall; Cæsar can ne’er forgive me;
He knows our hearts, he knows our resolution;
Our souls, untainted by corruption, thwart
His purposes; in us he will destroy
The last of Romans: yes, my friends, ’tis past;
Our laws, our country, and our honor’s lost;
Rome is no more; he triumphs over her,
And o’er mankind; our thoughtless ancestors
But fought for Cæsar, but for Cæsar conquered:
The spoils of kings, the sceptre of the world,
Six hundred years of virtues, toils, and war,
Were spent for Cæsar; he enjoys the fruit
Of all our dear-bought victories: O my Brutus,
Wert thou, too, born to crouch beneath a master?
Our liberty is gone.

brutus.

It will revive.

cassius.

What sayest thou? hark! did you not hear a shout?

brutus.

’Twas the vile rabble: think not of them, Cassius.

cassius.

Didst thou say, liberty—that noise again!

SCENE IV.

brutus, cassius, decimus, cimber.

cassius.

Ah! Cimber, is it thou? speak, what hath happened?

decimus.

Some new attempt on liberty and Rome?
What has thou seen?

cimber.

Our shame. When haughty Cæsar
Came to the temple, he looked down upon us
Even like the thunderer, Capitolian Jove;
Then proudly told us of his bold design
Of adding Persia to the Roman empire:
The people knelt before their idol, called him
Rome’s great avenger, conqueror of the world;
But Cæsar wanted yet another title
To gratify his insolent ambition;
When, lo! amidst this scene of adulation,
Came Antony, and bustled through the crowd
That stood ’twixt him and Cæsar; in his hand
A crown and sceptre: when, O shameful act,
Disgraceful to a Roman! whilst we stood
In silent admiration, unabashed,
He placed the crown on Cæsar’s head; then knelt,
And cried out, “Cæsar, live and reign o’er us,
And o’er the world:” our Romans, as he spake,
Turned pale, and with their cries tumultuous wrung
The temple’s vaulted roof: some fled with terror,
Whilst others blushing stood, and wept their fate.
Cæsar, who read resentment in their looks,
And indignation but too visible,
With well-dissembled modesty, took off
The radiant crown, and rolled it at his feet.
Instant the scene was changed, and every Roman
Welcomed with smiles returning liberty,
Ill-founded hopes, and momentary joy!
Antony seemed astonished: Cæsar still
Blushed and dissembled; and the more he strove
To hide his grief, the more was he applauded.
By moderation he would veil his crimes,
Affects to scorn the crown, and spurn it from him:
But, spite of all his efforts to conceal it,
Was galled within to hear the people praise him
For virtues which he never will possess.
No longer able to conceal his rage
And disappointment, with contracted brow
He left the capitol, and in an hour
The senate must attend him: an hour hence
Shall Cæsar change the state of Rome: thou knowest,
O Brutus! half our senate is corrupted,
Have bought their country, and will sell it now
To Cæsar: they are far more infamous
Even than the people, who at least abhor
The name of king: Cæsar, already vested
With regal power, yet wishes for the crown;
The people have refused him, but the senate
Bestow it on him: what remains?

cassius.

To die;
To end a life of misery and reproach:
I’ve dragged it on whilst yet a ray of hope
Dawned on my country, but her latest hour
Is come, and Cassius never shall survive her.
Let others weep for Rome, I can’t avenge
My country’s cause, but I can perish with her.
I go where all our gods—O Scipio, Pompey,
’Tis time to follow you, and imitate
Great Cato.

brutus.

No: we’ll not be followers,
But bright examples: the world’s eye, my friends,
Is fixed on us; be it our part to answer
The great expectance of our bleeding country.
Had Cato taken my counsel, he had fallen
More nobly, and the tyrant’s blood had flowed
Mixed with his own: he turned his blameless hand
Against himself; but little did his death
Avail mankind: Cato did all for glory,
And nothing for his country: there, my friends,
There only erred the greatest of mankind.

cassius.

What can we do in this disastrous crisis?

brutus.

[Shows the paper.
See what was wrote to me, and learn our duty.

cassius.

The same reproach was sent to me.

brutus.

It shows
We had deserved it.

cimber.

Quick, the fatal hour
Approaches, when a tyrant shall destroy
The Roman name: one hour, and all is gone.

brutus.

One hour, and Cæsar—dies.

cassius.

Ha! now thou art
What Brutus should be.

decimus.

Worthy of thy race,
The scourge of tyrants; thou hast spoke the thoughts
Of my own heart.

cassius.

O Brutus, thou revivest me;
’Twas what my sorrows, what my rage expected
From thy exalted virtue; Rome inspires
The great design; thy voice alone decrees
The death of tyrants: O my dearest Brutus,
Let us blot out this infamous reproach
On all mankind, and whilst Jove’s thunder sleeps,
Avenge the capitol. What say ye, Romans,
Have ye the same unconquerable heart,
The same desires?

cimber.

Cassius, we think with you,
Despise the thought of life, abhor the tyrant;
We love our country, and we will avenge her,
If there’s a spark of Roman virtue left,
Brutus and Cassius will revive it.

decimus.

Born
The guardians of the state, the great avengers
Of every crime, too long the oppressive hand
Of power hath galled us, and ’twere added guilt
To spare the tyrant, or suspend the blow:
Say, whom shall we admit to share this honor?

brutus.

We are ourselves enough to save our country.
Emilius, Dolabella, Lepidus
And Bibulus, are all the slaves of Cæsar.
Cicero may serve us with his eloquence,
And that alone; he can harangue the senate,
But is too timid in the hour of danger:
He’ll talk for Rome, but is not fit to avenge her:
We’ll leave the orator who charms his country
The task of praising us when we have saved it.
With you alone, my friends, will I partake
This glorious danger, this immortal honor:
The senate are to meet him an hour hence,
There I’ll surprise, destroy him there: this sword,
Deep in his bosom buried, shall avenge
Cato, and Pompey, and the Roman people:
I know the attempt is perilous and bold:
His watchful guards are placed on every side:
The changeful people, fluttering and inconstant,
Are doubtful whether they should love or hate him.
Death seems, my friends, to be our certain fate:
But O how glorious such a death will be!
How much to be desired! how noble is it
To fall in such a cause, to see our blood
Flow with the blood of tyrants; with what pleasure
Shall we behold this last illustrious hour!
Yes, let us die, my friends, but die with Cæsar;
And may that liberty his crimes oppress
Rise from his ashes, and forever flourish!

cassius.

Debate not then, but to the capitol
Let us away; there he has injured us,
And there ’tis fit he should be sacrificed:
Fear not the people, though they are doubtful now,
Whene’er the idol falls, they will detest him.

brutus.

Swear then with me upon this sword; all swear
By Cato’s blood, by Pompey’s, by the shades
Of those brave Romans who in Afric’s plains
Fell glorious; swear by all the avenging gods
Of Rome, that Cæsar by your hands shall die.

cassius.

Let us do more, my friends; here let us swear
To root out all who, like himself, shall strive
To govern here: sons, brothers, fathers, all,
If they are tyrants, Brutus, are our foes:
A true republican has neither son,
Father, nor brother, but the commonweal,
His gods, the laws, his virtue, and his country.

brutus.

Forever let me join my blood with yours;
All linked together in one sacred knot,
The adopted sons of Liberty and Rome,
We’ll seal our union with the tyrant’s blood.
[Advancing towards the statue of Pompey.
By you, illustrious heroes, who excite
Our duty and inspire the great design,
O Pompey, at thy sacred knees, we swear,
Naught for ourselves we do, but all for Rome,
We swear to be united for our country;
We swear to live, to fight, and die together.
Let us be gone: away: we’ve staid too long.

SCENE V.

cæsar, brutus.

cÆsar.

Stop, Brutus, I must talk with thee; attend:
Where wouldst thou fly?

brutus.

From tyranny, and thee.

cÆsar.

Lictors, detain him.

brutus.

Thou wouldst have my life,
Take it.

cÆsar.

No: Brutus, had I wanted that,
Thou knowest, I could command it with a word,
And thou hast merited no better fate:
It is the pride of thy ungrateful heart
Still to offend me; and I find thee here
Amongst those Romans whose dark perfidy
I most suspect, with those who proudly dared
To blame my conduct, and defy my power.

brutus.

They talked like Romans, gave thee noble counsel:
Hadst thou been wise, thou wouldst have followed it.

cÆsar.

Yet I’ll be calm, and bear thy insolence,
Will stoop beneath myself, and talk to thee.
What layest thou to my charge?

brutus.

A ravaged world,
The blood of nations, and thy plundered country;
Thy power, thy specious virtues that gild o’er
Thy crimes, thy fatal clemency, that makes
Thy chains so easy, a destructive charm
To soothe thy captives, and deceive mankind.

cÆsar.

Reproach like this had suited Pompey well;
He whose dissembled virtues have betrayed thee,
That haughty citizen, more fatal far,
Would not admit even Cæsar as his equal.
Thinkest thou, if he had conquered, his proud soul
Had left secure the liberty of Rome?
He would have ruled you with a rod of iron,
What then had Brutus done?

brutus.

He would have slain him.

cÆsar.

Is that the fate which Cæsar must expect
From thee? thou answerest not. O Brutus, Brutus,
Thou livest but for my ruin.

brutus.

If thou thinkest so,
Prevent my fury. What withholds thee?

cÆsar.

[Giving him the letter from Servilia.
Nature,
And my own heart: read there, ungrateful, read
And know whose blood thou hast opposed to mine;
See whom thou hatest, and if thou darest, go on.

brutus.

[Reading.
What have I read? where am I? do my eyes
Deceive me?

cÆsar.

Now, my son, my Brutus.

brutus.

Cæsar
My father, gracious gods!

cÆsar.

Ungrateful, yes,
I am thy father: whence this deadly silence?
Why sobbest thou thus, my son? Why do I hold thee
Thus in my arms mute and insensible?
Nature alarms, but cannot soften thee.

brutus.

O dreadful fate! it drives me to despair:
My oaths! my country! Rome forever dear!
Cæsar—alas! I’ve lived too long.

cÆsar.

O speak,
I see thy heart is laboring with remorse
And anguish: O hide nothing from me: still
Thou art silent: does the sacred name of son
Offend thee, Brutus? art thou fearful of it?
Fearest thou to love me, to partake my fortunes?
Is Cæsar’s blood so hateful to thee! Oh,
This sceptre of the world, this power supreme,
For thee alone, that Cæsar, whom thou hatest,
Desired them: with Octavius and thyself
I wished but to divide the rich reward
Of all my labors, and the name of king.

brutus.

O gods!

cÆsar.

Thou canst not speak: these transports, Brutus,
Spring they from hatred, or from tenderness?
What secret weight hangs heavy on thy soul?

brutus.

Cæsar—

cÆsar.

Well, what?

brutus.

I cannot speak to him.

cÆsar.

Thou seemest as if thou durst not call me father.

brutus.

O if thou art my father, grant me this,
This only boon.

cÆsar.

Ask it: to give it thee
Will make me happy.

brutus.

Kill me then this moment,
Or wish no more to be a king.

cÆsar.

Away!
Barbarian, hence! unworthy of my love,
Unworthy of thy race, thou art no more
My son: go, henceforth I disclaim thee;
My heart shall take example from thy own,
And stifle nature’s voice; shall learn of thee
To be inhuman: hence, I know thee not.
Think not I mean again to supplicate,
No, thou shalt see I’ve power to crush you all:
I will no longer listen to the pleas
Of mercy, but obey the laws of justice;
My easy heart is weary of forgiveness:
I’ll act like Sulla now, like him be cruel,
And make you tremble at my vengeance: go,
Find out your vile seditious friends, they all
Insulted me, and all shall suffer for it:
They know what Cæsar can do, and shall find
What Cæsar dare: if I am barbarous,
Remember, thou alone hast made me so.

brutus.

I must not leave him to his cruel purpose,
But save, if possible, my friends, and Cæsar.

End of the Second Act.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

cassius, cimber, decimus, cinna, casca,with the rest of the Conspirators.

cassius.

At length the hour is come when Rome again
Shall breathe, again shall flourish; unoppressed
By tyrants, soon the mistress of the world
To freedom and to fame shall be restored.
Yours is the honor, Decimus, and Casca,
Cimber, and Probus, but one hour and Cæsar
Shall be no more: what Cato, Pompey, all
The power of Asia, never could perform,
We, my brave friends, alone shall execute;
We will avenge our country: on this day
Thus may we speak to all mankind: “Henceforth
Respect the state of Rome, for she is free.”

cimber.

Behold thy friends all ready to obey thee;
To live or die with thee; to serve the senate;
To take the tyrant’s life, or lose their own.

decimus.

But where is Brutus, Cæsar’s deadliest foe,
He who assembled, he who made us swear,
Who first shall plunge the dagger in his breast,
Why comes he not? The son-in-law of Cato
Should not have tarried thus; he may be stopped;
Cæsar perhaps may know—but see he comes;
Gods! what dejection in his aspect!

SCENE II.

To thembrutus.

cassius.

Brutus,
What sinks thee thus? what new misfortune? say,
Doth Cæsar know it all? is Rome betrayed?

brutus.

He knows not our design upon his life,
But trusts to you.

decimus.

What then hath troubled thee?

brutus.

A dreadful secret, that will make you tremble.

cassius.

Cæsar’s approaching death! perhaps our own!
Brutus, we all can die, but shall not tremble.

brutus.

I will unveil it, and astonish thee.
Cæsar thou knowest is Brutus’ foe; I’ve sworn
To kill him, fixed the time, the place, the moment
Of his destruction: ’tis but what I owe
To Rome, to you, and your posterity,
Nay, to the happiness of all mankind,
And the first blow must come from Brutus’ hand:
All is prepared; and now let me inform thee,
That Brutus is—his son.
cimber.
The son of Cæsar!

cassius.

His son!

decimus.

O Rome!

brutus.

Yes: Cæsar and Servilia
Married in private, Brutus was the fruit
Of their unhappy nuptials.

cimber.

Art thou then
A tyrant’s son?

cassius.

It cannot, must not be:
Thou art too much a Roman.

brutus.

’Tis too true;
Ye see, my friends, the horror of my fate:
But I am yours, for sacred is my word:
Which of you all hath strength of mind sufficient,
With more than stoic courage, far above
The common race of men, to tell me how
Brutus should act? I yield me to your sentence:
All silent! all with downcast eyes! thou, Cassius,
Wilt not thou speak? no friendly hand stretched out
To save me from this horrid precipice!
Cassius, thou tremblest; thy astonished soul—

cassius.

I tremble at the counsel I must give.

brutus.

Yet speak.

cassius.

Were Brutus one amongst the crowd
Of vulgar citizens, I should have said,
Go, be a brother tyrant, serve thy father,
Destroy that country which thou shouldst support;
Rome shall hereafter be revenged on both:
But I am talking to the noble Brutus,
The scourge of tyrants, whose unconquered heart
Hath not a drop of Cæsar’s blood within it:
Thou knewest the traitor Catiline, whose rage
Was well nigh fatal to us all.

brutus.

I did.

cassius.

If on the day when that abhorred monster
Levelled the blow at liberty and Rome,
If when the senate had condemned the traitor
He had acknowledged Brutus for his son,
How wouldst thou then have acted?

brutus.

Canst thou ask me?
Thinkest thou, my heart, thus in a moment changed,
Could balance ’twixt a traitor and my country!

cassius.

Brutus, that word alone points out thy duty:
It is the senate’s will, and Rome’s in safety.
But say, hast thou indeed those secret checks
Which vulgar minds mistake for nature’s voice,
And shall a word from Cæsar thus extinguish
Thy love for Rome, thy duty, and thy faith?
Or true or false the secret that he told thee,
Is he less guilty, art thou less a Roman,
Art thou not Brutus, though the son of Cæsar?
Is not thy hand, thy heart, thy honor pledged
To us and to thy country? If thou art
The tyrant’s son, Rome is thy mother still,
We are thy brothers. Born as Brutus was
Within these sacred walls, the adopted son
Of Cato, bred by Scipio and by Pompey,
The friend of Cassius, what wouldst thou desire?
These are thy noblest titles, and another
Would but disgrace them: what if Cæsar, smit
With lawless passion for the fair Servilia,
Seduced her to his arms, and gave thee birth,
Bury thy mother’s follies in oblivion:
’Twas Cato formed thy noble soul to virtue,
And Cato is thy father; therefore loose
The shameful tie that binds thee to another:
Firm to thy oaths and to thy cause remain,
And own no parents but the world’s avengers.

brutus.

My noble friends, to you I next appeal.

cimber.

By Cassius judge of us, by us of Cassius:
Could we think otherwise, of all Rome’s sons
We were most guilty: but why ask of us
What thy own breast can best inform thee? Brutus
Alone can tell what Brutus ought to do.

brutus.

Now then, my friends, I’ll lay my heart before you,
With all its horrors; O ’tis deeply wounded,
And tears have flowed even from a stoic’s eye:
After the dreadful oath which I have made
To serve my country, and to kill my father,
I weep to see myself the son of Cæsar,
Admire his virtues, and condemn his crimes,
Lament the hero, and abhor the tyrant,
Pity and horror rend my troubled soul;
I wish that fate you have prepared for him
Would fall on Brutus: but I’ll tell you more,
Know, I esteem him, and ’midst all his crimes,
His nobleness of heart has won me to him:
If Rome could e’er submit to regal power,
He is the only tyrant we should spare.
Be not alarmed; that name alone secures me,
Rome and the senate have my faith, the welfare
Of all mankind declares against a king.
Yes, I embrace the virtuous task with horror,
And tremble at it, but I will be faithful:
I go to talk with Cæsar, and perhaps
To change and soften him, perhaps to save
Rome and himself: O may the gods bestow
Persuasive utterance on my lips, and power
To move his soul; but if in vain I plead
The cause of liberty, if Cæsar still
Is deaf to my entreaties, strike, destroy him,
I’ll not betray my country for my father.
The world, astonished, may approve or blame
My cruel firmness, and this deed hereafter
Be called a deed of horror, or of glory;
My soul is not ambitious of applause,
Or fearful of reproach; a Roman still,
And independent, to the voice of duty
And that alone I listen; for the rest,
’Tis equal all; away; be slaves no longer.

cassius.

The welfare of the state depends on thee,
And on thy sacred word we shall rely,
As if great Cato and the gods of Rome
Had promised to defend us.

SCENE III.

brutus.

[Alone.
Cæsar comes
Even now to meet me, ’tis the appointed hour,
And this the place, even in the capitol,
Where he must die: let me not hate him, gods!
O stop this arm uplifted to destroy him,
Inspire his noble heart with love of Rome,
And if he is my father, make him just!
He comes: I have not power to speak, or move,
Great spirit of Cato, now support my virtue!

SCENE IV.

cæsar, brutus.

cÆsar.

Brutus, we’re met: what wouldst thou? hast thou yet
A human heart? art thou the son of Cæsar.

brutus.

I am, if Cæsar be the son of Rome.

cÆsar.

Was it for this, thou proud republican,
We met together? comest thou to insult me?
Not all my bounties showered upon thy head,
Glory and empire, and a subject world,
Waiting to pay thee homage, naught can move
Thy stubborn heart: what thinkest thou of a crown?

brutus.

I think on it with horror.

cÆsar.

Prejudice
And passion blind thee, I excuse thy weakness;
But canst thou hate me?

brutus.

No: I love thee, Cæsar;
Thy noble deeds long since inclined my heart
To reverence thee; before thou hadst disclosed
The secret of my birth, I wept to see thee
At once the glory and the scourge of Rome:
Would Cæsar be a Roman citizen,
I should adore him, and would sacrifice
My life and fortune to defend his cause;
But Cæsar, as a king, I must abhor.

cÆsar.

What dost thou hate me for?

brutus.

Thy tyranny.
O listen to the counsel, to the prayers,
The tears of Rome, the senate, and thy son;
Wouldst thou desire to be the first of men?
Wouldst thou enjoy a right superior far
To all that war and conquest can bestow?
Wouldst thou be more than king, nay more than Cæsar—

cÆsar.

What’s to be done?

brutus.

Thou seest the world enslaved.
Bound to thy chariot; break their chains in sunder,
Renounce the diadem, and be a Roman.

cÆsar.

What hast thou bade me do?

brutus.

What Sulla did
Before thee; he had waded in our blood.
He made Rome free, and all was soon forgotten;
Deep as his hands were dipped in deadly slaughter.
He left the throne, and washed his crimes away.
Thou hadst not Sulla’s cruelty and rage,
Adopt his virtues then; thy heart, we know,
Can pardon, therefore can thy heart do more;
’Tis Rome thou must forgive: then shalt thou reign
As Cæsar should, then Brutus is thy son:
Still do I plead in vain?

cÆsar.

Rome wants a master,
As one day thou perhaps mayest dearly prove.
Brutus, our laws should with our manners change;
That liberty thou dotest on is no more
Than the fool’s right to hurt himself, and Rome,
That spread destruction round the world, now seems
To work her own; the great Colossus falls,
And in her ruin buries half mankind:
To me she stretches forth her feeble arm
To aid her in her perils. Since the days
Of Sulla, all our virtue’s lost; the laws,
Rome, and the state, are naught but empty names.
Alas! thou talkest in these corrupted times
As if the Decii, and Æmilii lived;
Cato deceived thee, and thy fatal virtue
Will but destroy thy country, and thyself;
Submit thy reason to the conqueror
Of Cato and of Pompey, to a father
Who loves thee, Brutus, who laments thy errors;
Give me thy heart, and be indeed my son:
Take other steps, and force not nature thus
Against thyself: not answer me, my Brutus,
But turn thy eyes away?

brutus.

I’m not myself:
Strike me, ye gods! O Cæsar—

cÆsar.

Thou are moved,
I see thou art, my son; thy softened soul—

brutus.

Thy life’s in danger; knowest thou that, my father?
Knowest thou, there’s not a Roman then but wishes
In secret to destroy thee? let thy own,
Thy country’s safety, plead my cause: by me
Thy genius speaks, it throws me at thy feet,
And presses for thy welfare; in the name
Of all those gods thou hast so late forgotten,
Of all thy virtues, in the name of Rome;
Shall I yet add the tender name of son,
A son who trembles for thee, who prefers
To Cæsar Rome alone, O hear, and save me!

cÆsar.

Leave me, my Brutus, leave me.

brutus.

Be persuaded.

cÆsar.

The world may change, but Cæsar never will.

brutus.

This is thy answer then?

cÆsar.

I am resolved;
Rome must obey, when Cæsar hath determined.

brutus.

Then fare thee well.

cÆsar.

Ha! wherefore? stay, my son,
Thou weepest, can Brutus weep? is it because
Thou hast a king? dost thou lament for Rome?

brutus.

I weep for thee, and thee alone; farewell!
[Exit Brutus.

cÆsar.

Heroic virtue! how I envy Brutus!
Would I could love like him the commonweal!

SCENE V.

cæsar, dolabella, romans.

dolabella.

Cæsar, the senate, at the temple met
By thy command, await thee, and the throne
Already is prepared, the people throng
Around thy statues, and the senate fix
Their wavering minds; but, if I might be heard
If Cæsar would give ear to one who loves him,
A fellow-soldier and a friend, to augurs,
To dreadful omens, to the gods themselves,
He would defer the great event.

cÆsar.

Away:
Defer such glorious business! lose a crown!
What power shall stop me?

dolabella.

Nature doth conspire
With heaven to blast thy purpose, and foretell
Thy death.

cÆsar.

No matter, Cæsar’s but a man;
Nor do I think that heaven would e’er disturb
The course of nature, or the elements
Rise in confusion, to prolong the life
Of one poor mortal; by the immortal gods
Our days are numbered; we must yield to fate;
Cæsar has nought to fear.

dolabella.

Cæsar has foes,
And this new yoke may gall them; what if these
Conspire against thee!

cÆsar.

O they dare not do it.

dolabella.

Thy heart’s too confident.

cÆsar.

Such poor precautions
Would make me look contemptible, perhaps
Would do me little service.

dolabella.

For Rome’s safety
Cæsar should live: at least permit thy friend
To attend thee to the senate.

cÆsar.

No: why alter
Our first resolve? why hasten the decrees
Of fate? who changes only shows his weakness.

dolabella.

I quit thee with regret, and own I fear.
Alas! my heart beats heavily.

cÆsar.

Away.
Better to die than be afraid of death:
Farewell.

SCENE VI.

dolabella, romans.

dolabella.

What hero better could deserve
The homage of mankind? O join with me,
Ye Romans, to admire and honor Cæsar;
Live to obey, and die to serve him—heaven!
What noise is that, what dreadful clamors!

The conspirators.

[Behind the scenes.
Die,
Die, tyrant: courage, Cassius.

dolabella.

Fly, and save him.

SCENE VII.

cassius,a dagger in his hand,dolabella, romans.

cassius.

The deed is done: he’s dead.

dolabella.

Assist me, Romans,
Strike, kill the traitor.

cassius.

Hear me, countrymen,
I am your friend, and your deliverer,
Have broke your chains, and set the nation free:
The conquerors of the world are now the sons
Of liberty.

dolabella.

O Romans, shall the blood
Of Cæsar—

cassius.

I have slain my friend, to serve
The cause of Rome; he would have made you slaves,
And therefore have I slain him: is there one
Amongst you all, so base, so mean of soul,
As to be fond of slavery, and regret
A tyrant’s loss? is there one Roman left
That wishes for a king? if one there be,
Let him appear, let him complain to Cassius;
But ye are fond of glory all, I know
Ye are, and will applaud me for the deed.

romans.

Perish his memory! Cæsar was a tyrant.

cassius.

Preserve these generous sentiments, ye sons
Of happy Rome, ye masters of the world;
Antony means, I know, to tamper with you,
But you’ll remember, he was Cæsar’s slave,
Bred up beneath him from his infant years,
And in corruption’s school has learned from him
The tyrant’s art; he comes to vindicate
His master, and to justify his crimes;
Contemns you all, and thinks he can deceive you:
He has a right to speak, and must be heard,
Such is the law of Rome, and to the laws
I shall submit; but in the people still
Is lodged the power supreme, to judge of Cæsar,
Of Antony, and me: ye now once more
Possess those rights which had been wrested from you,
Which Cæsar took, and Cassius hath restored:
He will confirm them: but I go, my friends,
To meet great Brutus at the capitol;
To those deserted walls once more to bring
Long absent justice, and our exiled gods;
To calm the rage of faction, and repair
The ruins of our liberty: for you,
I ask you but to know your happiness,
And to enjoy it: let no artifice
Deceive you, but beware of Antony.

romans.

If he speak ill of Cassius, he shall die.

cassius.

Romans, remember these your sacred oaths.

romans.

The friends of Rome shall ever be our care.

SCENE VIII.

antony, romans, dolabella.

First roman.

But Antony appears.

Second roman.

What can he dare
To offer?

First roman.

See, his eyes are bathed in tears;
Hark, how he sighs, he’s deeply troubled.

Second roman.

Oh,
He loved him but too well.

antony.

I did indeed;
I loved him, Romans, would have given my life
To save my friend’s; and who amongst you all
Would not have died for Cæsar, had you known,
Like me, his virtues? to the laws he fell
A noble sacrifice: I come not here
To gild his memory with a flattering tale,
The world was witness to his deeds, the world
Proclaims his glory; I but ask your pity,
And beg you to forgive the tears of friendship.

First roman.

Cassius, you might have shed them for your country,
For Rome in slavery; Cæsar was a hero,
But Cæsar was a tyrant too.

Second roman.

A tyrant
Could have no virtues: Cassius was our friend,
And so was Brutus.

antony.

I have naught to urge
Against his murderers; they meant, no doubt,
To serve the state; whilst generous Cæsar poured
His bounties on their heads, they shed his blood;
But, had he not been guilty, Rome would ne’er
Have acted thus, he must have been to blame:
And yet, did Cæsar ever make you groan
Beneath his power? did he oppress his country?
Did he reserve the fruit of all his conquests
But for himself, or did you share the spoil?
Were not the treasures of the conquered world
Laid at your feet, and lavished all on you?
When he beheld his weeping countrymen,
From his triumphal car he would descend
To soothe their griefs, and wipe their tears away.
What Cæsar fought for, Rome in peace enjoys;
Rich by his bounty, by his virtues great;
He paid the service and forgot the wrongs
Which he received; immortal gods! you knew
His heart was ever ready to forgive.

romans.

Cæsar was always merciful.

antony.

Alas!
Could his great soul have ever stooped to vengeance
He yet had lived, and we had still been happy.
Not one of all his murderers but shared
His bounties; twice had he preserved the life
Of Cassius—Brutus—horrible to think!
O heaven! my friends, I shudder at the crime,
The base assassin, Brutus, was—his son.

romans.

His son! ye gods!

antony.

I see, it shocks your souls,
I see the tears that trickle down your cheeks:
Yes; Brutus is his son: but you, my friends,
You were his children, his adopted sons:
O had ye seen his will!

romans.

What is it? tell us.

antony.

Rome is his heir; his treasures are your own,
And you will soon enjoy them: O he wished
To serve his Romans, even beyond the grave:
’Twas you alone he loved, for you had gone
To sacrifice his fortune and his life
In Asia’s plains: “O Romans,” oft he cried,
“You are my sovereigns, I am the world’s master,
And you are mine.” Could Brutus have done more,
Or Cassius?

romans.

We detest them.

First roman.

Cæsar was
The father of his country.

antony.

But he’s gone;
Your father is no more: the pride, the glory
Of human nature, the delight of Rome,
Cut off by vile assassins; shall he go
Unhonored, undistinguished to the tomb?
Shall we not raise the funeral pile to one
So dear, the father, and the friend of Rome?
Behold, they bring him here.
[The farther part of the stage opens, and discovers the lictors carrying the body of Cæsar, covered with a bloody robe; Antony descends from the rostrum, and kneels down near the body.

romans.

O dreadful sight!

antony.

Behold the poor remains of Cæsar! once
The first of men, that god whom you adored,
Whom even his murderers loved, your best support,
In peace your guardian, and in war your glory,
Who made whole nations tremble, and the world
Bow down before him: is this he, ye Romans,
This bleeding corse, is this the mighty Cæsar?
Mark but his wounds: here Cimber pierced him, there
The perjured Cassius, and there Decimus;
There, with unnatural hand, the cruel Brutus
Deep plunged the fatal poniard: Cæsar looked
Towards his murderer, with an eye of love
And mild forgiveness, as he sunk in death
He called him by the tender name of son;
“My child,” he cried—

First roman.

The monster! O that heaven
Had taken him hence before this fatal deed!
[The people crowd round the body.
The blood still flows.

antony.

O it cries out for vengeance:
From you demands it: hearken to the voice;
Awake, ye Romans, hence, and follow me
Against these vile assassins; the best tribute
That we can pay to Cæsar’s memory,
Is to extirpate these usurpers: haste,
And with the torch that lights his funeral pile
Set fire to every traitor’s house, and plunge
Your daggers in their breasts: away, my friends,
Let us avenge him; let us offer up
These bloody victims to the gods of Rome.

romans.

We follow thee, and swear by Cæsar’s blood
To be revenged: away.

antony.

[To Dolabella.
We must not let
Their anger cool, the multitude we know
Is ever wavering, fickle, and inconstant:
We’ll urge them to a war, and then perhaps
Who best avenges Cæsar may succeed him.

End of the Third and Last Act.

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CÆSAR. - Voltaire, The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems). [1901]

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CÆSAR.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

SCENE II.

dolabella.

cÆsar.

antony.

SCENE III.

cÆsar.

cimber.

cÆsar.

cimber.

cassius.

brutus.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

SCENE IV.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

antony.

cÆsar.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

antony.

brutus.

antony.

SCENE II.

brutus.

SCENE III.