Julius Caesar

by: William Shakespeare

Original Text

Modern Text

You love me not.
You don’t love me.
    I do not like your faults.
I don’t like your faults.
A friendly eye could never see such faults.
A friend would never see those faults.
A flatterer’s would not, though they do appear
95As huge as high Olympus.
No, a flatterer wouldn’t, even if the faults were as huge as Mount Olympus.
Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is aweary of the world—
Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
100Checked like a bondman, all his faults observed,
Set in a notebook, learned, and conned by rote
To cast into my teeth. Oh, I could weep
My spirit from mine eyes.
(offers BRUTUS his bared dagger) There is my dagger.
105And here my naked breast. Within, a heart
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold.
If that thou beest a Roman, take it forth.
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart.
Strike, as thou didst at Caesar. For I know
110When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better
Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.
Come, Antony and young Octavius! Get your revenge on Cassius, because Cassius has grown tired of the world. He’s hated by someone he loves, defied by his brother, rebuked like a servant, all his faults observed, catalogued in a notebook, read, and committed to memory so they can be thrown in his face. Oh, I could weep my soul right out of myself! There’s my dagger (he offers BRUTUS his unsheathed dagger), and here’s my bare chest. Inside it is a heart more valuable than


Pluto is the god of the underworld, and Plutus is the god of wealth. The two are often confused or combined, as they are here.

silver mine and richer than gold. If you’re a Roman, take my heart out. I, who denied you gold, will give you my heart. Strike as you did at Caesar, for I know even when you hated him the most, you still loved him better than you ever loved me.
     Sheathe your dagger.
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope.
Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor.
O Cassius, you are yokèd with a lamb
115That carries anger as the flint bears fire,
Who, much enforcèd, shows a hasty spark
And straight is cold again.
Put away your dagger. Be angry whenever you like, it’s all right with me. Do whatever you want, and I’ll say your insults are just a bad mood. Oh, Cassius, you’re partners with a quiet lamb. My anger is like a flint striking—a brief spark, and then I’m cold again.