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ACT III. - 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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ACT III. - 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]

Edition used:

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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Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.

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The text is in the public domain.

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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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ACT III. - 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]

Edition used:

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

About Liberty Fund:

Copyright information:

Fair use statement:

ACT III.

SCENE I.

cassius.

cimber.

decimus.

SCENE II.

cassius.

brutus.

decimus.

brutus.

cassius.

brutus.

cassius.

decimus.

brutus.

cimber.

cassius.

brutus.

cassius.

brutus.

cassius.

brutus.

cassius.

brutus.

cassius.

brutus.

cimber.

brutus.

cassius.

SCENE III.

brutus.

SCENE IV.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

brutus.

cÆsar.

SCENE V.

dolabella.

cÆsar.

dolabella.

cÆsar.

dolabella.