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Th' abuse of greatness is when it disjoins |
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Remorse from power. And, to speak truth of Caesar, |
| 20 |
I have not known when his affections swayed |
| |
More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof |
| |
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, |
| |
Whereto the climber upward turns his face. |
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But when he once attains the upmost round, |
| 25 |
He then unto the ladder turns his back, |
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Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees |
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By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. |
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Then, lest he may, prevent. And since the quarrel |
| |
Will bear no color for the thing he is, |
| 30 |
Fashion it thus: that what he is, augmented, |
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Would run to these and these extremities. |
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And therefore think him as a serpent's egg— |
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Which, hatched, would as his kind grow mischievous— |
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And kill him in the shell. |
|
|
Rulers abuse their power when they separate it from compassion. To
be honest, I've never known Caesar to let his emotions get
the better of his reason. But everyone knows that an ambitious young
man uses humility to advance himself, but when he reaches the top,
he turns his back on his supporters and reaches for the skies while
scorning those who helped him get where he is. Caesar might act like
that. Therefore, in case he does, we must hold him back. And since
our quarrel is with his future behavior, not what he does now, I
must frame the argument like this: if his position is furthered, his
character will fulfill these predictions. And therefore we should
liken him to a serpent's egg—once it has
hatched, it becomes dangerous, like all serpents. Thus we must kill
him while he's still in the shell. |
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| | LUCIUS |
| 35 |
The taper burneth in your closet, sir. |
| |
Searching the window for a flint, I found |
| |
This paper, thus sealed up, and I am sure |
| |
It did not lie there when I went to bed. |
| |
(gives him a letter)
|
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| LUCIUS |
|
The candle is burning in your study, sir. While I was looking for
a flint to light it, I found this paper on the window, sealed up
like this, and I'm sure it wasn't there when I
went to bed. (he gives BRUTUS
the letter) |
|
| | BRUTUS |
| 40 |
Get you to bed again. It is not day. |
| |
Is not tomorrow, boy, the ides of March? |
|
| BRUTUS |
|
Go back to bed. It isn't daybreak yet. Is tomorrow the
15th of March, boy? |
|
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| LUCIUS |
|
I don't know, sir. |
|
| | BRUTUS |
| |
Look in the calendar and bring me word. |
|
| BRUTUS |
|
Check the calendar and come tell me. |
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