Julius Caesar Act 2 Scene 2

Neither the sky nor the earth has been at peace tonight.

Three times Calpurnia has cried out in her sleep:

'Help! They're murdering Caesar!' — Is anyone there?

My lord?

Go and tell the priests to perform a sacrifice now

and bring me their reading of the outcome.

I will, my lord.

What are you doing, Caesar? Do you mean to go out?

You are not setting foot outside this house today.

Caesar will go out. The things that have threatened me

have only ever seen my back. When they see

Caesar's face, they vanish.

Caesar, I've never taken omens seriously,

but now they frighten me. There's a servant inside

who reports — on top of everything we've heard and seen —

the most horrible sights witnessed by the night watch.

A lioness gave birth in the streets.

Graves have gaped open and given up their dead.

Fierce burning warriors fought on the clouds

in ranks and squadrons and proper battle formation,

and blood drizzled down onto the Capitol.

The noise of battle crashed in the air.

Horses screamed and dying men groaned,

and ghosts shrieked and squealed through the streets.

Caesar — these things are beyond anything normal,

and they terrify me.

What can be avoided

when the mighty gods have decided the outcome?

Caesar will still go out. These omens

apply to the whole world as much as to Caesar.

When beggars die, no comets appear.

The heavens themselves blaze out the deaths of princes.

Cowards die many times before they actually die.

The brave taste death only once.

Of all the strange things I've ever heard of,

the strangest is that men should fear death,

given that death, which has to come,

will come when it comes.

What do the priests say?

They'd rather you didn't go out today.

When they pulled out the sacrifice's insides,

they couldn't find a heart in the animal.

The gods are doing this to shame cowardice.

Caesar would be an animal without a heart

if he stayed at home today out of fear.

No — Caesar won't. Danger knows perfectly well

that Caesar is more dangerous than danger is.

We're two lions born on the same day,

and I'm the older and more terrifying.

And Caesar will go out. (He talks about himself in the third person constantly. Watch how often.)

My lord,

your confidence is eating up your good sense.

Don't go out today. Say it's my fear

keeping you in the house, not your own.

We'll send Mark Antony to the Senate

and he can say you're unwell today.

Let me win this, on my knees.

Mark Antony can say I'm not well,

and to humour you I'll stay at home.

Here's Decius Brutus. He can tell them that.

Hail, Caesar! Good morning, worthy Caesar.

I've come to escort you to the Senate.

You've come at exactly the right moment

to carry my greetings to the senators

and tell them I won't be coming today.

'Cannot' would be a lie; 'dare not' would be a worse one.

I will not come today. Tell them that, Decius.

Say he's ill.

Is Caesar to send a lie?

Have I stretched my arm so far in conquest

only to be afraid of telling some old men the truth?

Decius, go and tell them Caesar will not come.

Mighty Caesar, give me some reason,

or they'll laugh at me when I say it.

The reason is that I choose not to. I won't come.

That's enough for the Senate.

But for your own satisfaction,

because I'm fond of you, I'll tell you.

My wife Calpurnia is keeping me at home.

Last night she dreamed she saw my statue

running pure blood like a fountain

with a hundred spouts. And many vigorous Romans

came smiling and washed their hands in it.

She reads these as warnings and omens

of disaster coming, and on her knees

she's begged me to stay home today.

That dream has been completely misread.

It was a fine and lucky vision.

Your statue pouring blood from many pipes,

with so many smiling Romans bathing in it,

means that great Rome will draw

life-giving blood from you, and that great men will crowd in

for keepsakes and relics marked with your colours.

That's what Calpurnia's dream means. (He is describing the assassination and selling it back to Caesar as a compliment.)

You've explained it very well.

I will have, once you've heard the rest.

Here it is: the Senate has decided

to give mighty Caesar a crown today.

If you send word that you won't come,

they might change their minds. Besides, it would make

a good joke for somebody to say:

'Adjourn the Senate to another day,

when Caesar's wife has had better dreams.'

If Caesar hides himself away, won't they whisper

'Look — Caesar is afraid'?

Forgive me, Caesar. It's my deep affection

for your advancement that makes me say this;

my judgment gives way to my love for you.

How foolish your fears look now, Calpurnia!

I'm ashamed I gave in to them.

Bring me my robe — I'm going.

And look — Publius has come to fetch me.

(to Publius) Good morning.

Good morning, Caesar.

Welcome, Publius. —

Brutus — you're up this early too? —

Good morning, Casca. — Caius Ligarius,

Caesar was never as much your enemy

as the fever that's made you so thin.

What time is it?

Caesar, it's struck eight.

Thank you for your trouble and courtesy.

Look — Antony, who parties all night,

is up all the same. Good morning, Antony.

And to most noble Caesar.

Have them get things ready inside.

It's my fault you've all had to wait.

Now then, Cinna. Metellus. — Trebonius,

I've got an hour's conversation saved up for you.

Remember to come and see me today.

Stay close, so I don't forget.

I will, Caesar. — (to himself) And I'll be so close

that your best friends will wish I'd been further off.

Good friends, come inside and have some wine with me.

And then we'll go together, like friends.

(to himself) That 'like friends' isn't the same as friends, Caesar —

Brutus's heart aches to think about it.