Julius Caesar

Neither the sky nor the earth have been quiet tonight. Calphurnia cried out three times in her sleep, “Help, someone! They’re murdering Caesar!” Who’s there?

My lord?

Go tell the priests to perform a sacrifice immediately, and bring me their interpretation of the results.

I will, my lord.

What are you doing, Caesar? Are you planning to go out? You’re not leaving the house today.

I will go out. The things that threaten me have only seen my back. When they see the face of Caesar, they will vanish.

Caesar, I never believed in omens, but now they frighten me. A servant told me the night-watchmen saw horrid sights too, but different ones from what we heard and saw. A lioness gave birth in the streets, and graves cracked open and thrust out their dead. Fierce, fiery warriors fought in the clouds in the usual formations of war—ranks and squadrons—until the clouds drizzled blood onto the Capitol. The noise of battle filled the air, and horses neighed, and dying men groaned, and ghosts shrieked and squealed in the streets. Oh, Caesar! These things are beyond anything we’ve seen before, and I’m afraid.

How can we avoid what the gods want to happen? But I will go out, for these bad omens apply to the world in general as much as they do to me.

When beggars die there are no comets in the sky. The heavens only announce the deaths of princes.

Cowards die many times before their deaths. The brave experience death only once. Of all the strange things I’ve ever heard, it seems most strange to me that men fear death, given that death, which can’t be avoided, will come whenever it wants.

What do the priests say?

They don’t want you to go out today. They pulled out the guts of the sacrificed animal and couldn’t find its heart.

The gods do this to test my bravery. They’re saying I’d be an animal without a heart if I stayed home today out of fear. So, I won’t. Danger knows that Caesar is more dangerous than he is. We’re two lions born on the same day in the same litter, and I’m the older and more terrible. I will go out.

Alas, my lord, your confidence is getting the better of your wisdom. Don’t go out today. Say that it’s my fear that keeps you inside and not your own. We’ll send Mark Antony to the senate house, and he’ll say that you’re sick today. (she kneels) Let me, on my knees, win you over to this plan.

All right. Mark Antony will say I’m not well, and to please you I’ll stay at home.

Here’s Decius Brutus. He’ll tell them so.

Hail, Caesar! Good morning, worthy Caesar. I’ve come to take you to the senate house.

And you’ve come at a good time, so you can convey my greetings to the senators and tell them I won’t come today. It wouldn’t be true to say that I can’t come, and even less true to say that I don’t dare come. I simply won’t come today. Tell them so, Decius.

Say he’s sick.

Would I send a lie? Have I accomplished so much in battle, but now I’m afraid to tell some old men the truth? Decius, go tell them that Caesar won’t come.

Most mighty Caesar, give me some reason, so I won’t be laughed at when I tell them so.

The reason is that it’s what I want. I’m not coming. That’s enough for the senate. But for your private satisfaction, because I love you, I’ll tell you. Calphurnia, my wife, is keeping me at home. Last night, she dreamed she saw a statue of me with a hundred holes in it, like a fountain with pure blood flowing from it, and many happy Romans came smiling and washed their hands in it. She takes these signs for warnings and predictions of terrible evils to come, and, on her knee, she begged me to stay home today.

This dream has been interpreted all wrong. It was a good and lucky vision. Your statue spouting blood through many holes, in which many smiling Romans bathed, means that you’ll provide great Rome with sustaining blood, and that great men will strive to get some token of approval from your holy blood. This is what Calphurnia’s dream means.

You’ve offered an excellent interpretation.

I will have when you hear the rest of what I have to say. The senate has decided to give mighty Caesar a crown today. If you send them word that you won’t come, they might change their minds. Besides, someone’s likely to joke, “Adjourn the senate until some other time, when Caesar’s wife has had better dreams.” If you hide yourself, won’t they whisper, “Caesar is afraid?” Pardon me, Caesar. My high hopes for your advancement force me to tell you this. My love gets the better of my manners.

How foolish your fears seem now, Calphurnia! I’m ashamed that I yielded to them. Give me my robe, because I’m going.

And look, here’s Publius, come to fetch me.

Good morning, Caesar.

Welcome, Publius. What, Brutus? Are you up this early too? Good morning, Casca. Caius Ligarius, I was never your enemy so much as the sickness that’s made you so thin. What time is it?

Caesar, the clock has struck eight.

I thank you all for your trouble and courtesy.

See! Even Antony, who stays up all night partying, is awake. Good morning, Antony.

And to you, most noble Caesar.

Tell them to prepare the other room for guests. I’m to blame for making you wait for me. Now, Cinna. Now, Metellus. Trebonius! I have an hour-long matter to discuss with you. Remember to see me today. Stay near me so I’ll remember.

Caesar, I will. (speaking quietly to himself) In fact, I’ll be so near that your best friends will wish I’d been further away.

Good friends, go in and have some wine with me. And we’ll leave together, like friends.

(quietly to himself) That we are now only “like” friends—Oh Caesar—makes my heart ache.