Chapter 1
Executive Director's Notes:
In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they are presented herein:
Barnardo. Who's there? Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold your selfe
Bar. Long liue the King
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As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u, above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .
The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in place of some "w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day, as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.
You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare. My father read an assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available . . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes, that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous for signing his name with several different spellings.
So, please take this into account when reading the comments below made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors that are "not" errors. . . .
So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors, here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's play.
Michael S. Hart Project Gutenberg Executive Director
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Scanner's Notes:
What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in ASCII to the printed text.
The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer Shakespeare.
Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different First Folio editions' best pages.
David Reed
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The Tragedie of Julius Caesar
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Flauius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners ouer the Stage.
Flauius. Hence: home you idle Creatures, get you home: Is this a Holiday? What, know you not (Being Mechanicall) you ought not walke Vpon a labouring day, without the signe Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou? Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter
Mur. Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule? What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on? You sir, what Trade are you? Cobl. Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am but as you would say, a Cobler
Mur. But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly
Cob. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe Conscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules
Fla. What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue, what Trade? Cobl. Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out Sir, I can mend you
Mur. What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou sawcy Fellow? Cob. Why sir, Cobble you
Fla. Thou art a Cobler, art thou? Cob. Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens matters; but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes: when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As proper men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vpon my handy-worke
Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day? Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets? Cob. Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holyday to see Caesar, and to reioyce in his Triumph
Mur. Wherefore reioyce? What Conquest brings he home? What Tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles? You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things: O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft? Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements, To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops, Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sate The liue-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey passe the streets of Rome: And when you saw his Chariot but appeare, Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout, That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankes To heare the replication of your sounds, Made in her Concaue Shores? And do you now put on your best attyre? And do you now cull out a Holyday? And do you now strew Flowers in his way, That comes in Triumph ouer Pompeyes blood? Be gone, Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees, Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this Ingratitude
Fla. Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault Assemble all the poore men of your sort; Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your teares Into the Channell, till the lowest streame Do kisse the most exalted Shores of all.
Exeunt. all the Commoners.
See where their basest mettle be not mou'd, They vanish tongue-tyed in their guiltinesse: Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll, This way will I: Disrobe the Images, If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies
Mur. May we do so? You know it is the Feast of Lupercall
Fla. It is no matter, let no Images Be hung with Caesars Trophees: Ile about, And driue away the Vulgar from the streets; So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke. These growing Feathers, pluckt from Caesars wing, Will make him flye an ordinary pitch, Who else would soare aboue the view of men, And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.
Exeunt.
Enter Caesar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer: after them Murellus and Flauius.
Caes. Calphurnia
Cask. Peace ho, Caesar speakes
Caes. Calphurnia
Calp. Heere my Lord
Caes. Stand you directly in Antonio's way, When he doth run his course. Antonio
Ant. Cæsar, my Lord
Caes. Forget not in your speed Antonio, To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders say, The Barren touched in this holy chace, Shake off their sterrile curse
Ant. I shall remember, When Caesar sayes, Do this; it is perform'd
Caes. Set on, and leaue no Ceremony out
Sooth. Caesar
Caes. Ha? Who calles? Cask. Bid euery noyse be still: peace yet againe
Caes. Who is it in the presse, that calles on me? I heare a Tongue shriller then all the Musicke Cry, Caesar: Speake, Caesar is turn'd to heare
Sooth. Beware the Ides of March
Caes. What man is that? Br. A Sooth-sayer bids you beware the Ides of March Caes. Set him before me, let me see his face
Cassi. Fellow, come from the throng, look vpon Caesar
Caes. What sayst thou to me now? Speak once againe, Sooth. Beware the Ides of March
Caes. He is a Dreamer, let vs leaue him: Passe.
Sennet
Exeunt. Manet Brut. & Cass.
Cassi. Will you go see the order of the course? Brut. Not I
Cassi. I pray you do
Brut. I am not Gamesom: I do lacke some part Of that quicke Spirit that is in Antony: Let me not hinder Cassius your desires; Ile leaue you
Cassi. Brutus, I do obserue you now of late: I haue not from your eyes, that gentlenesse And shew of Loue, as I was wont to haue: You beare too stubborne, and too strange a hand Ouer your Friend, that loues you
Bru. Cassius, Be not deceiu'd: If I haue veyl'd my looke, I turne the trouble of my Countenance Meerely vpon my selfe. Vexed I am Of late, with passions of some difference, Conceptions onely proper to my selfe, Which giue some soyle (perhaps) to my Behauiours: But let not therefore my good Friends be greeu'd (Among which number Cassius be you one) Nor construe any further my neglect, Then that poore Brutus with himselfe at warre, Forgets the shewes of Loue to other men
Cassi. Then Brutus, I haue much mistook your passion, By meanes whereof, this Brest of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations. Tell me good Brutus, Can you see your face? Brutus. No Cassius: For the eye sees not it selfe but by reflection, By some other things
Cassius. 'Tis iust, And it is very much lamented Brutus, That you haue no such Mirrors, as will turne Your hidden worthinesse into your eye, That you might see your shadow: I haue heard, Where many of the best respect in Rome, (Except immortall Caesar) speaking of Brutus, And groaning vnderneath this Ages yoake, Haue wish'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes
Bru. Into what dangers, would you Leade me Cassius? That you would haue me seeke into my selfe, For that which is not in me? Cas. Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to heare: And since you know, you cannot see your selfe So well as by Reflection; I your Glasse, Will modestly discouer to your selfe That of your selfe, which you yet know not of. And be not iealous on me, gentle Brutus: Were I a common Laughter, or did vse To stale with ordinary Oathes my loue To euery new Protester: if you know, That I do fawne on men, and hugge them hard, And after scandall them: Or if you know, That I professe my selfe in Banquetting To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.
Flourish, and Shout.
Bru. What meanes this Showting? I do feare, the People choose Caesar For their King
Cassi. I, do you feare it? Then must I thinke you would not haue it so
Bru. I would not Cassius, yet I loue him well: But wherefore do you hold me heere so long? What is it, that you would impart to me? If it be ought toward the generall good, Set Honor in one eye, and Death i'th other, And I will looke on both indifferently: For let the Gods so speed mee, as I loue The name of Honor, more then I feare death
Cassi. I know that vertue to be in you Brutus, As well as I do know your outward fauour. Well, Honor is the subiect of my Story: I cannot tell, what you and other men Thinke of this life: But for my single selfe, I had as liefe not be, as liue to be In awe of such a Thing, as I my selfe. I was borne free as Caesar, so were you, We both haue fed as well, and we can both Endure the Winters cold, as well as hee. For once, vpon a Rawe and Gustie day, The troubled Tyber, chafing with her Shores, Caesar saide to me, Dar'st thou Cassius now Leape in with me into this angry Flood, And swim to yonder Point? Vpon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bad him follow: so indeed he did. The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it With lusty Sinewes, throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of Controuersie. But ere we could arriue the Point propos'd, Caesar cride, Helpe me Cassius, or I sinke. I (as Aeneas, our great Ancestor, Did from the Flames of Troy, vpon his shoulder The old Anchyses beare) so, from the waues of Tyber Did I the tyred Caesar: And this Man, Is now become a God, and Cassius is A wretched Creature, and must bend his body, If Caesar carelesly but nod on him. He had a Feauer when he was in Spaine, And when the Fit was on him, I did marke How he did shake: Tis true, this God did shake, His Coward lippes did from their colour flye, And that same Eye, whose bend doth awe the World, Did loose his Lustre: I did heare him grone: I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans Marke him, and write his Speeches in their Bookes, Alas, it cried, Giue me some drinke Titinius, As a sicke Girle: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the Maiesticke world, And beare the Palme alone.
Shout. Flourish.
Bru. Another generall shout? I do beleeue, that these applauses are For some new Honors, that are heap'd on Caesar
Cassi. Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walke vnder his huge legges, and peepe about To finde our selues dishonourable Graues. Men at sometime, are Masters of their Fates. The fault (deere Brutus) is not in our Starres, But in our Selues, that we are vnderlings. Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Caesar? Why should that name be sounded more then yours Write them together: Yours, is as faire a Name: Sound them, it doth become the mouth aswell: Weigh them, it is as heauy: Coniure with 'em, Brutus will start a Spirit as soone as Caesar. Now in the names of all the Gods at once, Vpon what meate doth this our Caesar feede, That he is growne so great? Age, thou art sham'd. Rome, thou hast lost the breed of Noble Bloods. When went there by an Age, since the great Flood, But it was fam'd with more then with one man? When could they say (till now) that talk'd of Rome, That her wide Walkes incompast but one man? Now is it Rome indeed, and Roome enough When there is in it but one onely man. O! you and I, haue heard our Fathers say, There was a Brutus once, that would haue brook'd Th' eternall Diuell to keepe his State in Rome, As easily as a King
Bru. That you do loue me, I am nothing iealous: What you would worke me too, I haue some ayme: How I haue thought of this, and of these times I shall recount heereafter. For this present, I would not so (with loue I might intreat you) Be any further moou'd: What you haue said, I will consider: what you haue to say I will with patience heare, and finde a time Both meete to heare, and answer such high things. Till then, my Noble Friend, chew vpon this: Brutus had rather be a Villager, Then to repute himselfe a Sonne of Rome Vnder these hard Conditions, as this time Is like to lay vpon vs
Cassi. I am glad that my weake words Haue strucke but thus much shew of fire from Brutus, Enter Caesar and his Traine.
Bru. The Games are done, And Caesar is returning
Cassi. As they passe by, Plucke Caska by the Sleeue, And he will (after his sowre fashion) tell you What hath proceeded worthy note to day
Bru. I will do so: but looke you Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Caesars brow, And all the rest, looke like a chidden Traine; Calphurnia's Cheeke is pale, and Cicero Lookes with such Ferret, and such fiery eyes As we haue seene him in the Capitoll Being crost in Conference, by some Senators
Cassi. Caska will tell vs what the matter is
Caes Antonio
Ant. Caesar
Caes Let me haue men about me, that are fat, Sleeke-headed men, and such as sleepe a-nights: Yond Cassius has a leane and hungry looke, He thinkes too much: such men are dangerous
Ant. Feare him not Caesar, he's not dangerous, He is a Noble Roman, and well giuen
Caes Would he were fatter; But I feare him not: Yet if my name were lyable to feare, I do not know the man I should auoyd So soone as that spare Cassius. He reades much, He is a great Obseruer, and he lookes Quite through the Deeds of men. He loues no Playes, As thou dost Antony: he heares no Musicke; Seldome he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himselfe, and scorn'd his spirit That could be mou'd to smile at any thing. Such men as he, be neuer at hearts ease, Whiles they behold a greater then themselues, And therefore are they very dangerous. I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd, Then what I feare: for alwayes I am Caesar. Come on my right hand, for this eare is deafe, And tell me truely, what thou think'st of him.
Sennit.
Exeunt. Caesar and his Traine.
Cask. You pul'd me by the cloake, would you speake with me? Bru. I Caska, tell vs what hath chanc'd to day That Caesar lookes so sad
Cask. Why you were with him, were you not? Bru. I should not then aske Caska what had chanc'd
Cask. Why there was a Crowne offer'd him; & being offer'd him, he put it by with the backe of his hand thus, and then the people fell a shouting
Bru. What was the second noyse for? Cask. Why for that too
Cassi. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? Cask. Why for that too
Bru. Was the Crowne offer'd him thrice? Cask. I marry was't, and hee put it by thrice, euerie time gentler then other; and at euery putting by, mine honest Neighbors showted
Cassi. Who offer'd him the Crowne? Cask. Why Antony
Bru. Tell vs the manner of it, gentle Caska
Caska. I can as well bee hang'd as tell the manner of it: It was meere Foolerie, I did not marke it. I sawe Marke Antony offer him a Crowne, yet 'twas not a Crowne neyther, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I told you, hee put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking, he would faine haue had it. Then hee offered it to him againe: then hee put it by againe: but to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by, and still as hee refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw vppe their sweatie Night-cappes, and vttered such a deale of stinking breath, because Caesar refus'd the Crowne, that it had (almost) choaked Caesar: for hee swoonded, and fell downe at it: And for mine owne part, I durst not laugh, for feare of opening my Lippes, and receyuing the bad Ayre
Cassi. But soft I pray you: what, did Caesar swound? Cask. He fell downe in the Market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechlesse
Brut. 'Tis very like he hath the Falling sicknesse
Cassi. No, Caesar hath it not: but you, and I, And honest Caska, we haue the Falling sicknesse
Cask. I know not what you meane by that, but I am sure Caesar fell downe. If the tag-ragge people did not clap him, and hisse him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd them, as they vse to doe the Players in the Theatre, I am no true man
Brut. What said he, when he came vnto himselfe? Cask. Marry, before he fell downe, when he perceiu'd the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crowne, he pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat to cut: and I had beene a man of any Occupation, if I would not haue taken him at a word, I would I might goe to Hell among the Rogues, and so hee fell. When he came to himselfe againe, hee said, If hee had done, or said any thing amisse, he desir'd their Worships to thinke it was his infirmitie. Three or foure Wenches where I stood, cryed, Alasse good Soule, and forgaue him with all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had stab'd their Mothers, they would haue done no lesse
Brut. And after that, he came thus sad away
Cask. I
Cassi. Did Cicero say any thing? Cask. I, he spoke Greeke
Cassi. To what effect? Cask. Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're looke you i'th' face againe. But those that vnderstood him, smil'd at one another, and shooke their heads: but for mine owne part, it was Greeke to me. I could tell you more newes too: Murrellus and Flauius, for pulling Scarffes off Caesars Images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more Foolerie yet, if I could remember it
Cassi. Will you suppe with me to Night, Caska? Cask. No, I am promis'd forth
Cassi. Will you Dine with me to morrow? Cask. I, if I be aliue, and your minde hold, and your Dinner worth the eating
Cassi. Good, I will expect you
Cask. Doe so: farewell both. Enter.
Brut. What a blunt fellow is this growne to be? He was quick Mettle, when he went to Schoole
Cassi. So is he now, in execution Of any bold, or Noble Enterprize, How-euer he puts on this tardie forme: This Rudenesse is a Sawce to his good Wit, Which giues men stomacke to disgest his words With better Appetite
Brut. And so it is: For this time I will leaue you: To morrow, if you please to speake with me, I will come home to you: or if you will, Come home to me, and I will wait for you
Cassi. I will doe so: till then, thinke of the World. Exit Brutus.
Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I see, Thy Honorable Mettle may be wrought From that it is dispos'd: therefore it is meet, That Noble mindes keepe euer with their likes: For who so firme, that cannot be seduc'd? Caesar doth beare me hard, but he loues Brutus. If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, He should not humor me. I will this Night, In seuerall Hands, in at his Windowes throw, As if they came from seuerall Citizens, Writings, all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurely Caesars Ambition shall be glanced at. And after this, let Caesar seat him sure, For wee will shake him, or worse dayes endure. Enter.
Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Cicero.
Cic. Good euen, Caska: brought you Caesar home? Why are you breathlesse, and why stare you so? Cask. Are not you mou'd, when all the sway of Earth Shakes, like a thing vnfirme? O Cicero, I haue seene Tempests, when the scolding Winds Haue riu'd the knottie Oakes, and I haue seene Th' ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foame, To be exalted with the threatning Clouds: But neuer till to Night, neuer till now, Did I goe through a Tempest-dropping-fire. Eyther there is a Ciuill strife in Heauen, Or else the World, too sawcie with the Gods, Incenses them to send destruction
Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderfull? Cask. A common slaue, you know him well by sight, Held vp his left Hand, which did flame and burne Like twentie Torches ioyn'd; and yet his Hand, Not sensible of fire, remain'd vnscorch'd. Besides, I ha' not since put vp my Sword, Against the Capitoll I met a Lyon, Who glaz'd vpon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me. And there were drawne Vpon a heape, a hundred gastly Women, Transformed with their feare, who swore, they saw Men, all in fire, walke vp and downe the streetes. And yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit, Euen at Noone-day, vpon the Market place, Howting, and shreeking. When these Prodigies Doe so conioyntly meet, let not men say, These are their Reasons, they are Naturall: For I beleeue, they are portentous things Vnto the Clymate, that they point vpon
Cic. Indeed, it is a strange disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Cleane from the purpose of the things themselues. Comes Caesar to the Capitoll to morrow? Cask. He doth: for he did bid Antonio Send word to you, he would be there to morrow
Cic. Good-night then, Caska: This disturbed Skie is not to walke in
Cask. Farewell Cicero.
Exit Cicero.
Enter Cassius.
Cassi. Who's there? Cask. A Romane
Cassi. Caska, by your Voyce
Cask. Your Eare is good. Cassius, what Night is this? Cassi. A very pleasing Night to honest men
Cask. Who euer knew the Heauens menace so? Cassi. Those that haue knowne the Earth so full of faults. For my part, I haue walk'd about the streets, Submitting me vnto the perillous Night; And thus vnbraced, Caska, as you see, Haue bar'd my Bosome to the Thunder-stone: And when the crosse blew Lightning seem'd to open The Brest of Heauen, I did present my selfe Euen in the ayme, and very flash of it