Studio One (1948–1958): Season 1, Episode 12 - Julius Caesar - full transcript
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Hail Caesar!
Why dost thou lead these
men about the streets?
We make holiday
to see Caesar and
rejoice in his triumph!
Wherefore rejoice?
What conquest brings he home?
You blocks, you stones,
you cruel men of Rome,
knew you not Pompey?
And do you now
strew flowers in his way
who comes in triumph
over Pompey's blood?
Begone!
Run for your houses
and pray to the gods
to intermit the plague
that needs must light
on this ingratitude.
Go, good countrymen!
Disrobe the images
if you do find them
decked with ceremonies.
Let no images be decked
with Caesar's trophies.
Antonius!
Caesar!
Milord?
Set on and leave
no ceremony out.
When Caesar says
"Do this," it is performed.
Huh? Who calls?
Beware the ides of March.
Who is that man?
Set him before me.
Let me see his face.
Huh? What sayest thou to me now?
Speak once again.
Beware the ides of March.
He's a dreamer.
Let us leave him.
Will you go see the
order of the course?
- Not I.
- I pray you, do.
Let me not hinder,
Cassius, your desires.
I'll leave you.
Brutus.
I do observe you now of late.
I have not from your eyes
that gentleness and show
of love as I was wont to have.
Cassius, be not deceived.
If I have veiled my look,
I have turned the trouble of my
countenance merely upon myself.
Then, Brutus, I have
much mistook your passion.
What means this shouting?
I do fear the people
choose Caesar for their king.
Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you
would not have it so.
I would not, Cassius,
yet I love him well.
But what is it that you
would impart to me?
If it be aught toward
the general good,
set honor in one eye
and death in the other,
and I will look on
both indifferently.
For let the gods so speed me,
as I love the name of
honor more than I fear death.
I know that virtue
to be in you, Brutus.
Well, honor is the
subject of my story.
I was born free as
Caesar. So were you.
We both have fed as well.
And we can both endure
the winter's cold as well as he.
For once upon a
raw and gusty day,
the troubled Tiber
chafing with her shores,
Caesar said to me,
"Darest thou, Cassius,
now leap in with me
into this angry flood
and swim to yonder point?"
Upon the word, accoutred
as I was, I plunged in.
But ere we could arrive the
point proposed, Caesar cried,
"Help me, Cassius, or I sink!"
I, as Aeneas, our
great ancestor,
did from the flames of
Troy upon his shoulder
the old Anchises bear,
So from the waves of
Tiber did I the tired Caesar.
And this man is
now become a god,
And Cassius is a
wretched creature
and must bend his body if
Caesar carelessly but nod on him.
Ye gods, it doth amaze me a
man of such a feeble temper
should so get the start
of the majestic world
and bear the palm alone.
Another general shout.
I do believe that
these applauses
are for some new
honors heaped on Caesar.
Why, man, he doth bestride
the narrow world like a Colossus!
And we petty men
walk under his huge legs
and peep about to find
ourselves dishonorable graves.
Men at some time are
masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus,
is not in our stars
but in ourselves that
we are underlings.
Upon what meat doth
this, our Caesar, feed
that he is grown so great?!
Age, thou art shamed!
When could they say till
now that talked of Rome
that her wide walls
encompassed but one man?!
You and I have heard our
fathers say there was a Brutus once
that would have
brooked the eternal devil
to keep his state in
Rome as easily as a king.
That you do love me,
Cassius, I am nothing jealous.
What you have to say
I will with patience hear
and find a time
both meet to hear
and answer such high things.
Till then, my noble
friend, chew upon this...
Brutus had rather be a villager
than to repute
himself a son of Rome
under these hard conditions
as this time is
like to lay upon us.
I am glad that my weak words
have struck but thus much
show of fire from Brutus.
The games are ended.
Caesar is returning.
As they pass by, pluck
Casca by the sleeve.
And he will, after
his sour fashion,
tell you what has
proceeded worthy note today.
I will do so.
- Antonius?
- Yes?
Caesar.
Let me have men
about me that are fat...
Sleek-headed men and
such as sleep of nights.
Yon Cassius has a
lean and hungry look.
He thinks too much.
Such men are dangerous.
Fear him not, Caesar.
He's not dangerous.
He is a noble
Roman and well given.
Would he were fatter.
But I fear him not.
Yet... if my name
were liable to fear,
I do not know the man
I should avoid so soon
as that spare Cassius.
Such men as he be
never at heart's ease
whilst they behold a
greater than themselves,
and therefore are
they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to
be feared than what I fear.
For always I am Caesar.
You, uh, pulled me by the cloak.
Would you speak with me?
Aye, Casca.
Tell us what has chanced
today, that Caesar looks so sad.
Why, there was a
crown offered him,
and the people fell a-shouting.
Who offered him the crown?
Why, Antony.
They shouted thrice!
Was the crown
offered him thrice?
Aye, and he put it by thrice.
But to my thinking, he was
very loath to lay his fingers off it.
Tell us the manner
of it, gentle Casca.
I can as well be hanged
as tell the manner of it.
It was mere foolery.
He put it the third time by.
And still, as he refused it,
the rabblement hooted and
clapped their chapped hands
and uttered such a
deal of stinking breath
because Caesar refused the crown
that it had almost
choked Caesar.
For he swounded
and fell down at it.
'Tis very like. He hath
the falling sickness.
No, Caesar hath it not.
But you and I and honest Casca,
we have the falling sickness.
I know not what
you mean by that,
but I am sure Caesar fell down.
Will you dine with me tomorrow?
Aye, if I be alive
and your mind hold and
your dinner worth eating.
Good. I will expect you.
Farewell, both.
What a blunt fellow
is this grown to be.
He was quick mettle
when he went to school.
So is he now in execution of
any bold or noble enterprise.
And so it is.
For this time I will leave you.
Tomorrow, if you
please to speak with me,
I will come home to you.
Or, if you will, come home
to me, and I will wait for you.
I will do so.
Till then... think of the world.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble.
Yet I see thy honorable
metal may be wrought from
that it is disposed.
For who so firm that
cannot be seduced?
I will this night in at
his windows throw,
as if they came
from several citizens,
writings all tending
to the great opinion
that Rome holds of his name,
wherein obscurely Caesar's
ambition shall be glanced at.
And after this, let
Caesar seat him sure.
For we will shake him,
or worse days endure.
Since Cassius first did
whet me against Caesar,
I have not slept.
Between the acting of a
dreadful thing and the first motion,
all the interim is
like a phantasma
or a hideous dream.
The taper burneth
in your closet, sir.
Hmm?
Searching the
window for a flint,
I found this paper,
thus sealed up.
Is not tomorrow, boy,
the ides of March?
I know not, sir.
Look in the calendar.
Bring me word.
I will, sir.
Such instigations have
been often dropped
where I have took them up.
"Brutus, thou sleepest.
Awake and see thyself.
Shall Rome...
Speak, strike, redress.
Shall Rome..."
Thus must I piece it out.
Shall Rome stand
under one man's awe?
Sir, March is wasted 14 days.
'Tis good.
Go to the gate.
Someone knocks.
"Speak... strike...
redress."
Oh, Rome, I make thee promise,
if the redress will follow,
thou receivest thy full
petition at the hand of Brutus.
I think we are too
bold upon your rest.
Good morrow, Brutus.
Do we trouble you?
I have been up this
hour, awake all night.
Know I these men that
come along with you?
Yes.
And every one of them doth wish
you had but that
opinion of yourself
that every noble
Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.
He is welcome hither.
And this, Decius Brutus.
He is welcome, too.
This, Casca. This, Cinna.
And this, Metellus Cimber.
They are all welcome.
Give me your hands
all over, one by one.
And let us swear our resolution.
No. Not an oath.
What need we any
spur but our own cause
to prick us to redress?
Shall no man else be
touched but only Caesar?
Decius, well urged.
I think it is not
meet Marc Antony,
so well beloved of Caesar,
should outlive Caesar.
Let Antony and
Caesar fall together.
Our course will seem
too bloody, Caius Cassius,
to cut the head off
and then hack the limbs,
like wrath in death
and envy afterward.
For Antony is but
a limb of Caesar's.
No, let us sacrificers be,
but not butchers, Caius.
Gentle friends,
let's kill him...
Boldly, but not wrathfully.
And for Marc Antony,
think not of him.
For he can do nothing.
He can do no more
than the arm of Caesar
after Caesar's head is off.
Yet I fear him.
Alas, good Cassius,
do not think of him.
If he love Caesar, all that
he can do is to himself...
Take thought and die for Caesar.
There is no fear in
him. Let him not die.
For he will live and
laugh at this hereafter.
'Tis time to part.
It is doubtful yet whether
Caesar will come forth today.
For he is superstitious
grown of late.
Never fear that.
If he be so resolved,
I can o'ersway him.
Let me work.
For I can give his
humor the true bent,
and I will bring
him to the Capitol.
Nay, we will all of us
be there to fetch him.
By the eighth hour.
Is that the uttermost?
Be that the uttermost,
and fail not then.
Morning comes upon
us. We'll leave you, Brutus.
And, friends,
disperse yourselves.
Good gentlemen,
look fresh and merrily.
Let not our looks
put on our purposes.
So good morrow to you, everyone.
Gentle Portia.
You are my true
and honorable wife,
as dear to me as are the ruddy
drops that visit my sad heart.
By and by,
thy bosom shall partake
the secrets of my heart,
all my engagements
will I construe to thee
and all the charactery
of my sad brows.
Caesar, all hail!
Good morrow, worthy Caesar.
I come to fetch you
to the senate house.
I will not come today.
Tell them so, Decius.
That is enough to
satisfy the senate.
Most worthy Caesar,
let me know some cause,
lest I be laughed at
when I tell them so.
Say he is sick.
For your private satisfaction,
because I love you,
Calpurnia here, my
wife, stays me at home.
She dreamt tonight she
saw my statue, which,
like a fountain with an hundred
spouts, did run pure blood.
And many lusty
Romans came smiling
and did bathe their hands in it.
And these does she apply
for warnings and portents
and evils imminent
and on her knee hath begged
that I will stay at home today.
This dream was all
amiss interpreted.
It was a vision
fair and fortunate.
Your statue spouting
blood in many pipes,
in which so many Romans bathed,
signifies that from you great
Rome shall suck reviving blood
and that great men shall
press for tinctures, stains,
relics, and cognizance.
No.
This by Calpurnia's
dream is signified.
And this way have
you well expounded it.
I have, when you have
heard what I can say.
And know it now...
The senate have
concluded to give this day
a crown to mighty Caesar.
If you shall send them
word you will not come,
their minds may change.
Besides it were a
mock apt to be rendered,
for someone to say, "Break
up the senate till another time,
when Caesar's wife shall
meet with better dreams."
If Caesar hide himself,
shall they not whisper,
"Lo, Caesar is afraid"?
How foolish do your
fears seem now, Calpurnia.
I am ashamed that
I did yield to them.
For I will go.
Now that you've seen
part one of "Julius Caesar,"
let's turn to our Westinghouse
program and June Graham,
substituting for
vacationing Betty Furness.
Well! What's this, dear?
Tomato surprise.
Oh.
Well, it, uh, looks fine, honey.
But it's, uh, it's no surprise.
Couldn't we have a hot meal?
Oh, Bill, it's just
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Not if you own this new
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We return now
to "Westinghouse Studio
One Summer Theatre"
and "Julius Caesar."
The ides of March are come.
Aye, Caesar, but not gone!
What enterprise, Popilius?
What said Popilius Lena?
He wished today our
enterprise might thrive.
I fear our purpose
is discovered, Brutus.
If this be known, Cassius or
Caesar never shall turn back,
for I will slay myself.
Cassius, be constant.
Popilius Lena speaks
not of our purposes.
For look... he smiles, and
Caesar doth not change.
Trebonius knows his time.
For, look you... he draws
Marc Antony out of the way.
Where is Metellus Cimber?
Let him go and presently
prefer his suit to Caesar.
He is addressed. Press
near and second him.
Are we all ready?
What is now amiss that Caesar
and his senate must redress?
Most high, most mighty,
and most puissant Caesar,
Metellus Cimber throws
before thy seat an humble heart.
I must prevent thee, Cimber.
Thy brother by
decree is banished.
If thou dost bend and
fawn and pray for him,
I spurn thee like a
cur out of my way.
Know, Caesar doth not wrong,
nor without cause
will he be satisfied.
Is there no voice more
worthy than mine own
to sound more sweetly
in great Caesar's ear
for the repealing of
my banished brother?
I kiss thy hand, but not
in flattery, oh, Caesar.
Desiring thee that
Publius Cimber may have
an immediate freedom of repeal.
What, Brutus.
Pardon, Caesar. Caesar, pardon.
As low as to thy
foot doth Cassius fall
to beg enfranchisement
for Publius Cimber.
I could be well
moved... If I were as you.
But I am as constant
as the Northern Star.
The skies are painted
with unnumbered sparks.
They're all fire, and
every one doth shine.
Yet in the number I do know
but one that holds his place.
So in the world.
'Tis furnished well with men.
Yet in the number
I do know but one
that unassailable holds on
his rank, unshaked of motion,
and that I am he.
Let me a little
show it, even on this.
Oh, Caesar...
Hence! Wilt thou
lift up Olympus?
Great Caesar...
Doth not Brutus
bootless kneel? Ha!
- Caesar!
- Speak, hands, for me!
Et tu, Brute?
Then fall, Caesar.
Liberty! Freedom!
Tyranny is dead!
Liberty, freedom,
and enfranchisement!
- Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
- Where is Publius?
Here, quite confounded
with this mutiny.
Stand fast together, lest
some friend of Caesar's...
Talk not of standing now!
Publius, good cheer.
There is no harm intended to
thy person, nor to no Roman else.
Tell them so, good Publius.
And leave us, Publius,
lest that the people, rushing on
us, do your age some mischief.
Do so.
Let no man abide this
deed, but we the doers.
Be not affrighted.
Ambition's debt is paid!
Stoop, Romans.
Stoop.
Let us bathe our
hands in Caesar's blood
and besmear our swords.
And waving our red
weapons o'er our heads,
let's all cry, "Peace,
freedom, and liberty!"
Stoop, then, and wash.
How many ages hence shall
this, our lofty scene, be acted over,
in states unborn and
accents yet unknown?
Soft.
Who comes here?
Marc Antony.
I know we shall have
him well to friend.
I wish we may.
But yet have I a mind
that fears him much,
and my misgiving still falls
shrewdly to the purpose.
Welcome, Marc Antony.
Oh, mighty Caesar,
dost thou lie so low?
Are all thy conquests,
glories, triumphs, spoils
shrunk to this little measure?
Fare thee well.
I know not, gentlemen,
what you intend,
who else must be let
blood, who else is rank.
If I myself, there is no hour
so fit as Caesar's death's hour,
no mean of death
as here by Caesar.
Now, whilst your purpled
hands do reek and smoke,
fulfill your pleasure.
Oh, Antony, beg
not your death of us.
Our hearts do receive
you in with all kind love.
Your voice shall be
as strong as any man's
in the disposing
of new dignities.
Only be patient till we have
appeased the multitude,
beside themselves with fear.
And we will deliver
you the cause why I,
that loved Caesar when I
struck him, have thus proceeded.
I doubt not of your wisdom.
But what compact mean
you to have with us?
Friends am I with
you all and love you all,
upon this hope that you
shall give me reasons
why and wherein
Caesar was dangerous.
Else were this a
savage spectacle.
Our reasons are
so full of good regard
that were you, Antony,
the son of Caesar,
you should be satisfied.
That's all I seek.
And am moreover suitor
that I may deliver his
body in the marketplace,
and, in the pulpit,
as becomes a friend,
speak in the
order of his funeral.
You shall, Marc Antony.
Brutus, a word with you.
Hmm?
You know not what you do.
Do not consent that
Antony speak in his funeral.
Know you how much
the people may be moved
by that which he will utter?
By your pardon,
I will myself into
the pulpit first
and show the reason
of our Caesar's death.
Marc Antony, here.
Take your Caesar's body.
You shall not in your
funeral speech blame us,
but speak all the good
you can devise of Caesar,
and say you do it
by our permission.
Else shall you not have any
hand about his funeral at all.
Be it so. I do desire no more.
Prepare the body,
then, and follow us.
Oh, pardon me,
thou bleeding piece of earth,
that I am meek and
gentle with these butchers.
Thou art the ruins
of the noblest man
that ever lived in
the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that
shed this costly blood.
As Caesar loved
me, I weep for him.
As he was fortunate,
I rejoice at it.
As he was valiant, I honor him.
But as he was
ambitious, I slew him.
There is tears for his love,
joy for his fortune,
honor for his valor,
death for his ambition.
Who is here so base
that would be a bondman?
If any, speak, for
him have I offended.
Who is here so vile that
will not love his country?
If any, speak, for
him have I offended.
None, Brutus!
Then none have I offended.
I have done no more to Caesar
than you shall do to Brutus.
Here comes his body,
mourned by Marc Antony,
who, though he had
no hand in his death,
shall receive the
benefits of his dying,
a place in the commonwealth,
as which of you shall not.
With this, I depart...
That as I slew my best
lover for the good of Rome,
I have the same
dagger for myself
when it shall please my
country to need my death.
Bring him with triumph
home unto his house!
Give him a statue
with his ancestors!
Good countrymen!
Let me depart alone,
and, for my sake,
stay here with Antony.
Grace Caesar's corpse,
and grace his speech
tending to Caesar's glories,
which Marc Antony, by our
permission, is allowed to make.
I do entreat you, not a
man depart, save I alone,
till Antony have spoke.
For Brutus' sake, I
am beholding to you.
You gentle Romans!
Friends! Romans! Countrymen!
Lend me your ears!
I come to bury Caesar,
not to praise him.
Listen to him!
The evil that men
do lives after them.
The good is oft
interred with their bones.
So let it be with Caesar.
Aye!
The noble Brutus hath told
you Caesar was ambitious.
If it were so, it was
a grievous fault,
and grievously hath
Caesar answered it.
Here, under leave of
Brutus and the rest...
For Brutus is an
honorable man...
So are they all, all
honorable men...
Come I to speak
in Caesar's funeral.
He was my friend,
faithful and just to me.
But Brutus says
he was ambitious,
and Brutus is an honorable man.
- Aye!
- Aye!
He hath brought many
captives home to Rome
whose ransoms did
the general coffers fill.
Did this in Caesar
seem ambitious?
When that the poor have
cried, Caesar hath wept.
Ambition should be
made of sterner stuff.
But Brutus says
he was ambitious,
and Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see
how on the Lupercal
I thrice presented
him a kingly crown,
which he did thrice refuse.
Was this ambition?!
Yet Brutus says
he was ambitious,
and, sure, he is
an honorable man.
I speak not, friends, to
disprove what Brutus spoke,
but here I am to
speak what I do know.
You all did love him
once, not without cause.
What cause withholds
you, then, to mourn for him?
Oh, judgment, thou art
fled to brutish beasts!
And men have lost their reason!
Bear with me.
My heart is in the
coffin there with Caesar,
and I must pause till
it come back to me.
If thou consider
rightly of the matter,
Caesar has had great wrong!
Marked you his words?
He would not take the crown.
Yea, then 'tis certain
he was not ambitious.
Poor soul.
His eyes are red
as fire with weeping.
Now mark him... He
begins again to speak.
But yesterday the word of Caesar
might have stood
against the world.
Now lies he there.
And none so poor
to do him reverence.
Oh, masters, if I were disposed
to stir your hearts and minds
to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus
wrong and Cassius wrong,
who, you all know,
are honorable men.
I will not do them wrong.
I rather choose
to wrong the dead,
to wrong myself and you
than I would wrong
such honorable men.
But here is a parchment
with the seal of Caesar.
I found it in his closet.
- 'Tis his will.
- His will?!
Let but the commons
hear this testament...
Which, pardon me, I
do not mean to read...
And they would go and
kiss dead Caesar's wounds.
We'll hear the will!
Have patience, gentle friends.
I must not read it.
You are not wood, you
are not stone, but men.
And, being men, hearing the
will of Caesar, it will inflame you.
It will make you mad!
'Tis good you know not
that you are his heirs.
For if you should, oh,
what would come of it?
We'll hear the will!
You will compel me,
then, to read the will?
- Aye!
- Aye!
Then make a ring about
the corpse of Caesar,
and let me show you
him who made the will.
Shall I descend?
- Aye!
- Aye!
Will you give me leave?
Aye, you shall have leave!
Make room!
Away from the hearse!
- Stand from the body!
- Stand from the body!
Caesar.
If you have tears,
prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle.
- Aye.
- Aye.
Look.
In this place ran
Cassius' dagger through.
See what a rent the
envious Casca made.
Oh!
Through this, the
well-beloved Brutus stabbed!
This was the most
unkindest cut of all.
For when the noble
Caesar saw him stab,
ingratitude, more
strong than traitors' arms,
quite vanquished him,
then burst his mighty heart!
And, in his mantle
muffling up his face,
even at the base
of Pompey's statua,
which all the while ran
blood, great Caesar fell!
Oh, what a fall was
there, my countrymen.
Then I and you and
all of us fell down,
whilst bloody treason
flourished over us!
Ah. Now you weep.
Good friends, what,
weep you when you but behold
our Caesar's vesture wounded?
Look you here.
Here lies himself, marred,
as you see, with traitors!
- Oh, woeful day!
- Villains!
We will be revenged!
Good friends, sweet friends,
let me not stir you up to
such a sudden flood of mutiny.
They that have done
this deed are honorable.
What private griefs they have,
alas, I know not,
that made them do it.
They are wise and honorable
and will, no doubt,
with reason answer you.
I am no orator, as Brutus is.
But, as you know me all,
a plain, blunt man
that loved my friend.
I tell you that which
you yourselves do know.
Show you sweet
Caesar's wounds...
poor, poor dumb mouths...
and bid them speak for me.
But were I Brutus
and Brutus Antony
there were an Antony
would ruffle up your spirits
and put a tongue in
every wound of Caesar
that would stir the stones
of Rome to rise and mutiny!
Hear me, countrymen!
Yet hear me speak.
Why, friends, you go
to do you know not what.
Wherein hath Caesar
thus deserved your love?
You have forgot
the will I told you of.
Here is the will, and
under seal of Caesar.
To every Roman citizen he
gives, to every several man,
75 drachmas.
Moreover, he has
left you all his walks,
his private arbors,
and new-planted
orchards this side Tiber.
He has left them you
and to your heirs forever,
common pleasures to walk
abroad and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Caesar!
When comes such another?
- Never!
- Never!
Away! Away!
We'll burn his body
in the holy place,
and, with the brands,
fire the traitors' houses!
Take up the body!
Over thy wounds,
now do I prophesy.
A curse shall light
upon the limbs of men.
Domestic fury
and fierce civil strife
shall cumber all
the parts of Italy.
Blood and destruction
shall be so in use
and dreadful objects so familiar
that mothers shall but smile
when they behold their infants
quartered with the hand of war,
all pity choked with
custom of fell deeds.
And Caesar's spirit,
ranging for revenge,
with Ate by his side
come hot from hell,
shall, in these confines,
with a monarch's voice,
cry, "Havoc!" and let
slip the dogs of war,
that this foul deed shall
smell above the earth,
with carrion men
groaning for burial!
I-I'm... I'm Cinna...
Cinna the poet!
Cinna the poet!
I'm not Cinna the conspirator!
All the same, his name's Cinna.
Tear him to pieces!
Now let it work.
Mischief, thou art afoot.
Take thou what course thou wilt.
Now let's pause for a moment
and turn to our Westinghouse
program and June Graham.
Yes, watch out.
That drip pan's mighty full.
Oh! There it goes,
spilled all over.
That's what happens
when you're all dressed,
ready to go shopping,
and you're in a hurry.
She's defrosting
her refrigerator,
so naturally she had to
empty that messy defrost water.
And look what happened.
Defrosting is such a nuisance.
So trade in that
old refrigerator
that doesn't defrost
itself right now
and get a whale of a deal
on this big 12-cubic-foot
Westinghouse refrigerator
that keeps itself frost-free.
That's right.
That means there's no
defrosting in the refrigerator
or the freezer.
With a frost-free, there's
no messy drip tray to empty.
In fact, there's
nothing for you to do.
And just think how
you'd enjoy owning
this big 1955 Westinghouse
frost-free refrigerator
that's so big, so right
for your family today.
Well, for instance,
this huge freezer holds
51 pounds of frozen foods.
And look at all the
space in this refrigerator.
There's even more space in
these handy door shelves over here.
It's a lot of space, isn't it?
Yes, it's a Westinghouse
Food File refrigerator
with a special place
and a special cold
for every kind of food.
And here's a
feature that's optional
that you won't find in
any other refrigerator.
It's an exclusive Westinghouse
automatic twin juice fountain.
Now, you just keep a supply
of a thawed juice
concentrate in here.
And press the tap, like this.
The fountain automatically
mixes the concentrate
with the right amount
of cold water and air
to give it nature's
own freshness.
Now, while your
dealer is offering
a whale of a trade-in deal
on that 1955
Westinghouse refrigerator,
get rid of that old
undersize refrigerator
and get yourself a big
12-cubic-foot Westinghouse.
And he'll give you a whale
of a deal on other models, too,
at prices much lower
than you'd expect.
And remember, in
choosing your refrigerator,
you can be sure if
it's Westinghouse.
We return now
to "Westinghouse Studio
One Summer Theatre"
and "Julius Caesar."
Stand, ho!
Stand, ho! Speak the word along.
Stand!
Most noble brother,
you have done me wrong!
Cassius, be content.
Speak thy grief softly.
Before the eyes of both our
armies here, let us not wrangle.
Bid them move away.
Stand away.
Dardanius.
That you have wronged
me doth appear in this.
You have condemned
and noted Lucius Pella
for taking bribes
here of the Sardians,
wherein my letters, praying on
his side because I knew the man
were slighted off!
You wronged yourself
to write in such a case.
In such a time as
this it is not meet
that every nice offense
should bear his comment!
Let me tell you, Cassius...
You yourself are much
condemned to have an itching palm,
to sell and mart your offices
for gold to undeservers!
I, an itching palm?!
Remember March.
The ides of March, remember.
Shall we now contaminate
our fingers with base bribes?
Brutus, bay not me!
You forget yourself,
to hedge me in.
I am a soldier
and I abler than yourself
to make conditions.
Go to. You are not, Cassius.
I am!
I say you are not.
Urge me no more.
I shall forget myself!
Away, slight man!
Must I endure all this?!
All this!
Ay, more!
You say you are
a better soldier.
- Let it appear so!
- You wrong me every way!
I said an elder
soldier, not a better.
- Did I say "better"?
- If you did, I care not!
Do not presume too
much upon my love!
I may do that I
shall be sorry for!
You have done that
you should be sorry for!
I sent to thee for gold to pay
my legions, which you denied me.
I denied you not!
He was but a fool that
brought my answer back.
A friend should bear
his friend's infirmities,
but Brutus makes mine
greater than they are.
You love me not.
I do not like your faults.
A friendly eye could
never see such faults.
A flatterer's would not!
Oh, I could weep my
spirit from mine eyes.
There is my dagger,
here my naked breast.
I that denied thee
gold will give my heart.
If that thou beest a
Roman, take it forth!
Oh, Cassius.
Sheathe thy dagger.
You are yoked with a lamb
that carries anger
as the flint bears fire.
When I spoke that, I
was ill-tempered, too.
Do you confess so much?
Give me your hand.
And my heart, too.
Oh, Brutus.
Have not you love
enough to bear with me
when that rash humor
which my mother gave me
- makes me forgetful?
- Yes, Cassius.
And from henceforth,
when you are overearnest
with your Brutus,
he will think your mother
chides, and leave it so.
I did not think you could
have been so angry.
Oh, Cassius.
I am sick of many griefs.
Of your philosophy
you make no use
if you give place
to accidental evils.
No man bears sorrow better.
Portia is dead.
Portia.
She is dead.
How escaped I killing
when I crossed you so?
Upon what sickness?
Impatient at my absence.
And grief that young
Octavius and Marc Antony
have made themselves so strong.
For, with her death,
these tidings came.
With this, she fell distract,
and her attendants
absent, swallowed fire.
And died so?
Even so.
No more, I pray you.
I have the patience
to endure it now.
Well, to our work.
What think you of marching
to Philippi presently?
I do not think it good.
'Tis better that
the enemy seek us.
So shall he waste his
means, weary his soldiers,
whilst we, lying still,
are full of rest, defense,
and nimbleness.
Good reasons must, of
force, give place to better.
Young Octavius and Marc Antony
bring down upon
us a mighty power,
bending their expedition
toward Philippi.
The people 'twixt
Philippi and this ground
are but in a forced affection.
They have grudged
us contribution.
Now, if at Philippi
we face him there,
these people at our backs...
- Hear me, good brother.
- Under your pardon.
The enemy increaseth every day.
We, at the height,
are ready to decline.
There is a tide in
the affairs of men,
which, taken at the
flood, leads on to fortune.
Omitted, all the
voyage of their life
is bound in shallows
and in miseries.
Upon such a full sea
we are now afloat.
And we must take the
current when it serves,
or lose our ventures.
Then, with your will, go on.
If we do lose this battle...
what are you then
determined to do?
The same day must end the
work the ides of March began.
And whether we shall
meet again, I know not.
Therefore, our
everlasting farewell take.
If we do meet
again, we shall smile.
If not, why, then, this
parting was well made.
If we do meet again,
we'll smile indeed.
If not, why, then, this
parting was well made.
Farewell, Brutus.
Good night, dear brother.
Good night and sweet repose.
This is a sleepy tune.
Oh, let me see. Let me see.
Is not the leaf turned down
where I left off reading?
Yes. Here it is, I think.
How ill this taper burns.
Who comes here?
I think it is the
weakness of mine eyes
that shapes this
monstrous apparition.
Art thou anything?
Speak to me what thou art.
Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
Why comest thou?
To tell thee thou shalt
see me at Philippi.
Well, then... I shall
see thee again?
Aye.
At Philippi.
Why, then, I shall
see thee at Philippi.
Oh.
That a man could know the end
of this day's business ere it end.
But it sufficeth that
the day will end...
and so the end is known.
Fates, we will
know your pleasure.
Where does his body lie?
Lo, yonder.
Friends, I owe more
tears to this dead man
than you shall see me pay.
Milord, there is
no tarrying here.
I shall find time, oh, Cassius.
I shall find time.
Oh, Julius Caesar,
thou art mighty yet.
Thy spirit walks abroad
and turns our swords in
our own proper entrails.
Milord!
Slaying is the word.
It is a deed of fashion.
Hark thee, Clitus.
What? I?
No, milord, not
for all the world!
Peace, then! No words.
I'll rather kill myself.
Hark thee, Dardanius.
Shall I do such a thing?
What request did
Brutus make to thee?
To kill him, Clitus.
Look. He meditates.
Now is that vessel full of grief
that it runs over
even at his eyes.
Fly, milord, fly!
Fly, milord, fly.
Hence. I will follow.
Farewell.
My heart doth joy
that yet in all my life I found
no man but he was true to me.
I shall have glory
by this losing day,
more than Octavius
and Marc Antony
by this vile conquest
can attain unto.
Countrymen, farewell.
Night doth hang on mine eyes.
My bones would rest, that have
but labored to attain this hour.
Fly! Fly!
Hence, I prithee.
Lucius!
Stay thou with thy lord.
Thou art a fellow
of a good respect.
Hold then my sword
and turn your face away
while I do run upon it.
Wilt thou... Lucius?
Give me your hand first.
Farewell, milord.
Farewell, good Lucius.
Caesar...
now be still!
I killed not thee...
with half so good a will.
What man is that?
This was the noblest
Roman of them all.
All the conspirators,
save only he,
did that they did in
envy of great Caesar.
He only... in a
general honest thought
and common good to
all... made one of them.
His life was gentle, and
the elements so mixed in him
that nature might stand
up and say to all the world,
"This was a man."
And now June Graham
wants to show you
what to take on your vacation.
As you can see, I always
like to travel light myself.
But I'd never go away
without my Westinghouse
personal portable radio.
I love it because
it's a portable radio
that's really portable.
Look.
It has its own handsome-finish
cordovan carrying case.
And, you see, it's open here so
you can tune your Westinghouse
right in the case, like that.
It's the only portable
to take when you travel
because, well, lots of
portables, like this one,
hardly work when you're far
away from your favorite stations.
They sound like this.
Pretty weak and tinny, isn't it?
But the Westinghouse
portable has a rich, full tone.
Your favorite programs
come in wonderfully clear,
even from far-off stations.
And the Westinghouse
personal portable
comes in gray, green, or red.
It's a smart vacation companion.
And listen to this.
Now you can get it,
complete with carrying case
and long-life
batteries, a $39 value,
for only $29.95.
And remember, in
choosing your radio,
you can be sure if
it's Westinghouse.
Next week,
"Westinghouse Studio
One Summer Theatre"
will present "The Prince and
the Puppet" by Shirley Peterson,
starring Bil and Cora Baird
with their charming puppets.
Also appearing
will be Phyllis Hill,
Van Dyke Parks,
and Joseph Sweeney.
Keep cool all day long
with the new Westinghouse
Riviera four-way fan.
Cools four big rooms all night,
changing the air
every two minutes.
Or reverse it to
pull cool air in.
Get this Westinghouse
Riviera fan now,
and you get a $9.95
automatic fan timer free.
"Westinghouse Studio
One Summer Theatre"
has been selected for viewing
by America's armed forces
at home and overseas.
This is Paul Branson saying
good night for Westinghouse,
who have made more
than 40 million products
for the American home.
We hope you'll be
with us again next week.
Until then, good night.
"Studio One Summer
Theatre" originated live
from New York City.
The name that
stands for leadership.
First in atomic power
to serve the nation.
First in electrical
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to save the needs of industry.
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to make your dream
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Wherever electricity serves
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for the new, the improved,
the finest in the widest
range of products,
you can be sure if
it's Westinghouse.
Hail Caesar!
Why dost thou lead these
men about the streets?
We make holiday
to see Caesar and
rejoice in his triumph!
Wherefore rejoice?
What conquest brings he home?
You blocks, you stones,
you cruel men of Rome,
knew you not Pompey?
And do you now
strew flowers in his way
who comes in triumph
over Pompey's blood?
Begone!
Run for your houses
and pray to the gods
to intermit the plague
that needs must light
on this ingratitude.
Go, good countrymen!
Disrobe the images
if you do find them
decked with ceremonies.
Let no images be decked
with Caesar's trophies.
Antonius!
Caesar!
Milord?
Set on and leave
no ceremony out.
When Caesar says
"Do this," it is performed.
Huh? Who calls?
Beware the ides of March.
Who is that man?
Set him before me.
Let me see his face.
Huh? What sayest thou to me now?
Speak once again.
Beware the ides of March.
He's a dreamer.
Let us leave him.
Will you go see the
order of the course?
- Not I.
- I pray you, do.
Let me not hinder,
Cassius, your desires.
I'll leave you.
Brutus.
I do observe you now of late.
I have not from your eyes
that gentleness and show
of love as I was wont to have.
Cassius, be not deceived.
If I have veiled my look,
I have turned the trouble of my
countenance merely upon myself.
Then, Brutus, I have
much mistook your passion.
What means this shouting?
I do fear the people
choose Caesar for their king.
Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you
would not have it so.
I would not, Cassius,
yet I love him well.
But what is it that you
would impart to me?
If it be aught toward
the general good,
set honor in one eye
and death in the other,
and I will look on
both indifferently.
For let the gods so speed me,
as I love the name of
honor more than I fear death.
I know that virtue
to be in you, Brutus.
Well, honor is the
subject of my story.
I was born free as
Caesar. So were you.
We both have fed as well.
And we can both endure
the winter's cold as well as he.
For once upon a
raw and gusty day,
the troubled Tiber
chafing with her shores,
Caesar said to me,
"Darest thou, Cassius,
now leap in with me
into this angry flood
and swim to yonder point?"
Upon the word, accoutred
as I was, I plunged in.
But ere we could arrive the
point proposed, Caesar cried,
"Help me, Cassius, or I sink!"
I, as Aeneas, our
great ancestor,
did from the flames of
Troy upon his shoulder
the old Anchises bear,
So from the waves of
Tiber did I the tired Caesar.
And this man is
now become a god,
And Cassius is a
wretched creature
and must bend his body if
Caesar carelessly but nod on him.
Ye gods, it doth amaze me a
man of such a feeble temper
should so get the start
of the majestic world
and bear the palm alone.
Another general shout.
I do believe that
these applauses
are for some new
honors heaped on Caesar.
Why, man, he doth bestride
the narrow world like a Colossus!
And we petty men
walk under his huge legs
and peep about to find
ourselves dishonorable graves.
Men at some time are
masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus,
is not in our stars
but in ourselves that
we are underlings.
Upon what meat doth
this, our Caesar, feed
that he is grown so great?!
Age, thou art shamed!
When could they say till
now that talked of Rome
that her wide walls
encompassed but one man?!
You and I have heard our
fathers say there was a Brutus once
that would have
brooked the eternal devil
to keep his state in
Rome as easily as a king.
That you do love me,
Cassius, I am nothing jealous.
What you have to say
I will with patience hear
and find a time
both meet to hear
and answer such high things.
Till then, my noble
friend, chew upon this...
Brutus had rather be a villager
than to repute
himself a son of Rome
under these hard conditions
as this time is
like to lay upon us.
I am glad that my weak words
have struck but thus much
show of fire from Brutus.
The games are ended.
Caesar is returning.
As they pass by, pluck
Casca by the sleeve.
And he will, after
his sour fashion,
tell you what has
proceeded worthy note today.
I will do so.
- Antonius?
- Yes?
Caesar.
Let me have men
about me that are fat...
Sleek-headed men and
such as sleep of nights.
Yon Cassius has a
lean and hungry look.
He thinks too much.
Such men are dangerous.
Fear him not, Caesar.
He's not dangerous.
He is a noble
Roman and well given.
Would he were fatter.
But I fear him not.
Yet... if my name
were liable to fear,
I do not know the man
I should avoid so soon
as that spare Cassius.
Such men as he be
never at heart's ease
whilst they behold a
greater than themselves,
and therefore are
they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to
be feared than what I fear.
For always I am Caesar.
You, uh, pulled me by the cloak.
Would you speak with me?
Aye, Casca.
Tell us what has chanced
today, that Caesar looks so sad.
Why, there was a
crown offered him,
and the people fell a-shouting.
Who offered him the crown?
Why, Antony.
They shouted thrice!
Was the crown
offered him thrice?
Aye, and he put it by thrice.
But to my thinking, he was
very loath to lay his fingers off it.
Tell us the manner
of it, gentle Casca.
I can as well be hanged
as tell the manner of it.
It was mere foolery.
He put it the third time by.
And still, as he refused it,
the rabblement hooted and
clapped their chapped hands
and uttered such a
deal of stinking breath
because Caesar refused the crown
that it had almost
choked Caesar.
For he swounded
and fell down at it.
'Tis very like. He hath
the falling sickness.
No, Caesar hath it not.
But you and I and honest Casca,
we have the falling sickness.
I know not what
you mean by that,
but I am sure Caesar fell down.
Will you dine with me tomorrow?
Aye, if I be alive
and your mind hold and
your dinner worth eating.
Good. I will expect you.
Farewell, both.
What a blunt fellow
is this grown to be.
He was quick mettle
when he went to school.
So is he now in execution of
any bold or noble enterprise.
And so it is.
For this time I will leave you.
Tomorrow, if you
please to speak with me,
I will come home to you.
Or, if you will, come home
to me, and I will wait for you.
I will do so.
Till then... think of the world.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble.
Yet I see thy honorable
metal may be wrought from
that it is disposed.
For who so firm that
cannot be seduced?
I will this night in at
his windows throw,
as if they came
from several citizens,
writings all tending
to the great opinion
that Rome holds of his name,
wherein obscurely Caesar's
ambition shall be glanced at.
And after this, let
Caesar seat him sure.
For we will shake him,
or worse days endure.
Since Cassius first did
whet me against Caesar,
I have not slept.
Between the acting of a
dreadful thing and the first motion,
all the interim is
like a phantasma
or a hideous dream.
The taper burneth
in your closet, sir.
Hmm?
Searching the
window for a flint,
I found this paper,
thus sealed up.
Is not tomorrow, boy,
the ides of March?
I know not, sir.
Look in the calendar.
Bring me word.
I will, sir.
Such instigations have
been often dropped
where I have took them up.
"Brutus, thou sleepest.
Awake and see thyself.
Shall Rome...
Speak, strike, redress.
Shall Rome..."
Thus must I piece it out.
Shall Rome stand
under one man's awe?
Sir, March is wasted 14 days.
'Tis good.
Go to the gate.
Someone knocks.
"Speak... strike...
redress."
Oh, Rome, I make thee promise,
if the redress will follow,
thou receivest thy full
petition at the hand of Brutus.
I think we are too
bold upon your rest.
Good morrow, Brutus.
Do we trouble you?
I have been up this
hour, awake all night.
Know I these men that
come along with you?
Yes.
And every one of them doth wish
you had but that
opinion of yourself
that every noble
Roman bears of you.
This is Trebonius.
He is welcome hither.
And this, Decius Brutus.
He is welcome, too.
This, Casca. This, Cinna.
And this, Metellus Cimber.
They are all welcome.
Give me your hands
all over, one by one.
And let us swear our resolution.
No. Not an oath.
What need we any
spur but our own cause
to prick us to redress?
Shall no man else be
touched but only Caesar?
Decius, well urged.
I think it is not
meet Marc Antony,
so well beloved of Caesar,
should outlive Caesar.
Let Antony and
Caesar fall together.
Our course will seem
too bloody, Caius Cassius,
to cut the head off
and then hack the limbs,
like wrath in death
and envy afterward.
For Antony is but
a limb of Caesar's.
No, let us sacrificers be,
but not butchers, Caius.
Gentle friends,
let's kill him...
Boldly, but not wrathfully.
And for Marc Antony,
think not of him.
For he can do nothing.
He can do no more
than the arm of Caesar
after Caesar's head is off.
Yet I fear him.
Alas, good Cassius,
do not think of him.
If he love Caesar, all that
he can do is to himself...
Take thought and die for Caesar.
There is no fear in
him. Let him not die.
For he will live and
laugh at this hereafter.
'Tis time to part.
It is doubtful yet whether
Caesar will come forth today.
For he is superstitious
grown of late.
Never fear that.
If he be so resolved,
I can o'ersway him.
Let me work.
For I can give his
humor the true bent,
and I will bring
him to the Capitol.
Nay, we will all of us
be there to fetch him.
By the eighth hour.
Is that the uttermost?
Be that the uttermost,
and fail not then.
Morning comes upon
us. We'll leave you, Brutus.
And, friends,
disperse yourselves.
Good gentlemen,
look fresh and merrily.
Let not our looks
put on our purposes.
So good morrow to you, everyone.
Gentle Portia.
You are my true
and honorable wife,
as dear to me as are the ruddy
drops that visit my sad heart.
By and by,
thy bosom shall partake
the secrets of my heart,
all my engagements
will I construe to thee
and all the charactery
of my sad brows.
Caesar, all hail!
Good morrow, worthy Caesar.
I come to fetch you
to the senate house.
I will not come today.
Tell them so, Decius.
That is enough to
satisfy the senate.
Most worthy Caesar,
let me know some cause,
lest I be laughed at
when I tell them so.
Say he is sick.
For your private satisfaction,
because I love you,
Calpurnia here, my
wife, stays me at home.
She dreamt tonight she
saw my statue, which,
like a fountain with an hundred
spouts, did run pure blood.
And many lusty
Romans came smiling
and did bathe their hands in it.
And these does she apply
for warnings and portents
and evils imminent
and on her knee hath begged
that I will stay at home today.
This dream was all
amiss interpreted.
It was a vision
fair and fortunate.
Your statue spouting
blood in many pipes,
in which so many Romans bathed,
signifies that from you great
Rome shall suck reviving blood
and that great men shall
press for tinctures, stains,
relics, and cognizance.
No.
This by Calpurnia's
dream is signified.
And this way have
you well expounded it.
I have, when you have
heard what I can say.
And know it now...
The senate have
concluded to give this day
a crown to mighty Caesar.
If you shall send them
word you will not come,
their minds may change.
Besides it were a
mock apt to be rendered,
for someone to say, "Break
up the senate till another time,
when Caesar's wife shall
meet with better dreams."
If Caesar hide himself,
shall they not whisper,
"Lo, Caesar is afraid"?
How foolish do your
fears seem now, Calpurnia.
I am ashamed that
I did yield to them.
For I will go.
Now that you've seen
part one of "Julius Caesar,"
let's turn to our Westinghouse
program and June Graham,
substituting for
vacationing Betty Furness.
Well! What's this, dear?
Tomato surprise.
Oh.
Well, it, uh, looks fine, honey.
But it's, uh, it's no surprise.
Couldn't we have a hot meal?
Oh, Bill, it's just
too hot to cook.
Oh, no, it isn't.
Not if you own this new
Westinghouse roaster oven.
It's the best way
to give your family
those hot, nourishing meals.
And yet you keep
so crisp and cool.
The Westinghouse roaster
never heats up your kitchen.
Or, if you like, you can
plug it into the porch
and use it to cook
outdoors, like this.
It's a complete,
portable electric cooker
that cooks everything,
plugs in anywhere,
And it's the easiest way
to cook everything, too.
Just look at this.
Here's a whole family meal...
Meat, vegetable, and dessert...
All cooked to perfection
in these heatproof dishes
that come with the
Westinghouse roaster.
Or you can use it
to cook for a crowd,
a big dish, like this
chicken Brunswick stew.
And remember I said it
was the cool way to cook?
Well, that's because
it's so well insulated.
You see, there's a
big blanket of fiberglass
all around the side.
And this look-in lid
keeps the heat in, too.
Isn't that something?
In fact, it's so well insulated,
you can even use
it to keep foods cold.
Just look at this.
Start with cold
food, drinks, ice
and later use it
to cook hot foods.
Yes, it's America's
favorite roaster,
Just $43.95, complete
with the heatproof dishes.
What's more, you can add
this new Westinghouse rotisserie
for just $29.95.
So enjoy cool, perfect,
automatic cooking this summer
and all year 'round
with the new
Westinghouse roaster oven.
Don't wait. Get yours tomorrow.
And remember, in
choosing a roaster,
you can be sure if
it's Westinghouse.
We return now
to "Westinghouse Studio
One Summer Theatre"
and "Julius Caesar."
The ides of March are come.
Aye, Caesar, but not gone!
What enterprise, Popilius?
What said Popilius Lena?
He wished today our
enterprise might thrive.
I fear our purpose
is discovered, Brutus.
If this be known, Cassius or
Caesar never shall turn back,
for I will slay myself.
Cassius, be constant.
Popilius Lena speaks
not of our purposes.
For look... he smiles, and
Caesar doth not change.
Trebonius knows his time.
For, look you... he draws
Marc Antony out of the way.
Where is Metellus Cimber?
Let him go and presently
prefer his suit to Caesar.
He is addressed. Press
near and second him.
Are we all ready?
What is now amiss that Caesar
and his senate must redress?
Most high, most mighty,
and most puissant Caesar,
Metellus Cimber throws
before thy seat an humble heart.
I must prevent thee, Cimber.
Thy brother by
decree is banished.
If thou dost bend and
fawn and pray for him,
I spurn thee like a
cur out of my way.
Know, Caesar doth not wrong,
nor without cause
will he be satisfied.
Is there no voice more
worthy than mine own
to sound more sweetly
in great Caesar's ear
for the repealing of
my banished brother?
I kiss thy hand, but not
in flattery, oh, Caesar.
Desiring thee that
Publius Cimber may have
an immediate freedom of repeal.
What, Brutus.
Pardon, Caesar. Caesar, pardon.
As low as to thy
foot doth Cassius fall
to beg enfranchisement
for Publius Cimber.
I could be well
moved... If I were as you.
But I am as constant
as the Northern Star.
The skies are painted
with unnumbered sparks.
They're all fire, and
every one doth shine.
Yet in the number I do know
but one that holds his place.
So in the world.
'Tis furnished well with men.
Yet in the number
I do know but one
that unassailable holds on
his rank, unshaked of motion,
and that I am he.
Let me a little
show it, even on this.
Oh, Caesar...
Hence! Wilt thou
lift up Olympus?
Great Caesar...
Doth not Brutus
bootless kneel? Ha!
- Caesar!
- Speak, hands, for me!
Et tu, Brute?
Then fall, Caesar.
Liberty! Freedom!
Tyranny is dead!
Liberty, freedom,
and enfranchisement!
- Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
- Where is Publius?
Here, quite confounded
with this mutiny.
Stand fast together, lest
some friend of Caesar's...
Talk not of standing now!
Publius, good cheer.
There is no harm intended to
thy person, nor to no Roman else.
Tell them so, good Publius.
And leave us, Publius,
lest that the people, rushing on
us, do your age some mischief.
Do so.
Let no man abide this
deed, but we the doers.
Be not affrighted.
Ambition's debt is paid!
Stoop, Romans.
Stoop.
Let us bathe our
hands in Caesar's blood
and besmear our swords.
And waving our red
weapons o'er our heads,
let's all cry, "Peace,
freedom, and liberty!"
Stoop, then, and wash.
How many ages hence shall
this, our lofty scene, be acted over,
in states unborn and
accents yet unknown?
Soft.
Who comes here?
Marc Antony.
I know we shall have
him well to friend.
I wish we may.
But yet have I a mind
that fears him much,
and my misgiving still falls
shrewdly to the purpose.
Welcome, Marc Antony.
Oh, mighty Caesar,
dost thou lie so low?
Are all thy conquests,
glories, triumphs, spoils
shrunk to this little measure?
Fare thee well.
I know not, gentlemen,
what you intend,
who else must be let
blood, who else is rank.
If I myself, there is no hour
so fit as Caesar's death's hour,
no mean of death
as here by Caesar.
Now, whilst your purpled
hands do reek and smoke,
fulfill your pleasure.
Oh, Antony, beg
not your death of us.
Our hearts do receive
you in with all kind love.
Your voice shall be
as strong as any man's
in the disposing
of new dignities.
Only be patient till we have
appeased the multitude,
beside themselves with fear.
And we will deliver
you the cause why I,
that loved Caesar when I
struck him, have thus proceeded.
I doubt not of your wisdom.
But what compact mean
you to have with us?
Friends am I with
you all and love you all,
upon this hope that you
shall give me reasons
why and wherein
Caesar was dangerous.
Else were this a
savage spectacle.
Our reasons are
so full of good regard
that were you, Antony,
the son of Caesar,
you should be satisfied.
That's all I seek.
And am moreover suitor
that I may deliver his
body in the marketplace,
and, in the pulpit,
as becomes a friend,
speak in the
order of his funeral.
You shall, Marc Antony.
Brutus, a word with you.
Hmm?
You know not what you do.
Do not consent that
Antony speak in his funeral.
Know you how much
the people may be moved
by that which he will utter?
By your pardon,
I will myself into
the pulpit first
and show the reason
of our Caesar's death.
Marc Antony, here.
Take your Caesar's body.
You shall not in your
funeral speech blame us,
but speak all the good
you can devise of Caesar,
and say you do it
by our permission.
Else shall you not have any
hand about his funeral at all.
Be it so. I do desire no more.
Prepare the body,
then, and follow us.
Oh, pardon me,
thou bleeding piece of earth,
that I am meek and
gentle with these butchers.
Thou art the ruins
of the noblest man
that ever lived in
the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that
shed this costly blood.
As Caesar loved
me, I weep for him.
As he was fortunate,
I rejoice at it.
As he was valiant, I honor him.
But as he was
ambitious, I slew him.
There is tears for his love,
joy for his fortune,
honor for his valor,
death for his ambition.
Who is here so base
that would be a bondman?
If any, speak, for
him have I offended.
Who is here so vile that
will not love his country?
If any, speak, for
him have I offended.
None, Brutus!
Then none have I offended.
I have done no more to Caesar
than you shall do to Brutus.
Here comes his body,
mourned by Marc Antony,
who, though he had
no hand in his death,
shall receive the
benefits of his dying,
a place in the commonwealth,
as which of you shall not.
With this, I depart...
That as I slew my best
lover for the good of Rome,
I have the same
dagger for myself
when it shall please my
country to need my death.
Bring him with triumph
home unto his house!
Give him a statue
with his ancestors!
Good countrymen!
Let me depart alone,
and, for my sake,
stay here with Antony.
Grace Caesar's corpse,
and grace his speech
tending to Caesar's glories,
which Marc Antony, by our
permission, is allowed to make.
I do entreat you, not a
man depart, save I alone,
till Antony have spoke.
For Brutus' sake, I
am beholding to you.
You gentle Romans!
Friends! Romans! Countrymen!
Lend me your ears!
I come to bury Caesar,
not to praise him.
Listen to him!
The evil that men
do lives after them.
The good is oft
interred with their bones.
So let it be with Caesar.
Aye!
The noble Brutus hath told
you Caesar was ambitious.
If it were so, it was
a grievous fault,
and grievously hath
Caesar answered it.
Here, under leave of
Brutus and the rest...
For Brutus is an
honorable man...
So are they all, all
honorable men...
Come I to speak
in Caesar's funeral.
He was my friend,
faithful and just to me.
But Brutus says
he was ambitious,
and Brutus is an honorable man.
- Aye!
- Aye!
He hath brought many
captives home to Rome
whose ransoms did
the general coffers fill.
Did this in Caesar
seem ambitious?
When that the poor have
cried, Caesar hath wept.
Ambition should be
made of sterner stuff.
But Brutus says
he was ambitious,
and Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see
how on the Lupercal
I thrice presented
him a kingly crown,
which he did thrice refuse.
Was this ambition?!
Yet Brutus says
he was ambitious,
and, sure, he is
an honorable man.
I speak not, friends, to
disprove what Brutus spoke,
but here I am to
speak what I do know.
You all did love him
once, not without cause.
What cause withholds
you, then, to mourn for him?
Oh, judgment, thou art
fled to brutish beasts!
And men have lost their reason!
Bear with me.
My heart is in the
coffin there with Caesar,
and I must pause till
it come back to me.
If thou consider
rightly of the matter,
Caesar has had great wrong!
Marked you his words?
He would not take the crown.
Yea, then 'tis certain
he was not ambitious.
Poor soul.
His eyes are red
as fire with weeping.
Now mark him... He
begins again to speak.
But yesterday the word of Caesar
might have stood
against the world.
Now lies he there.
And none so poor
to do him reverence.
Oh, masters, if I were disposed
to stir your hearts and minds
to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus
wrong and Cassius wrong,
who, you all know,
are honorable men.
I will not do them wrong.
I rather choose
to wrong the dead,
to wrong myself and you
than I would wrong
such honorable men.
But here is a parchment
with the seal of Caesar.
I found it in his closet.
- 'Tis his will.
- His will?!
Let but the commons
hear this testament...
Which, pardon me, I
do not mean to read...
And they would go and
kiss dead Caesar's wounds.
We'll hear the will!
Have patience, gentle friends.
I must not read it.
You are not wood, you
are not stone, but men.
And, being men, hearing the
will of Caesar, it will inflame you.
It will make you mad!
'Tis good you know not
that you are his heirs.
For if you should, oh,
what would come of it?
We'll hear the will!
You will compel me,
then, to read the will?
- Aye!
- Aye!
Then make a ring about
the corpse of Caesar,
and let me show you
him who made the will.
Shall I descend?
- Aye!
- Aye!
Will you give me leave?
Aye, you shall have leave!
Make room!
Away from the hearse!
- Stand from the body!
- Stand from the body!
Caesar.
If you have tears,
prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle.
- Aye.
- Aye.
Look.
In this place ran
Cassius' dagger through.
See what a rent the
envious Casca made.
Oh!
Through this, the
well-beloved Brutus stabbed!
This was the most
unkindest cut of all.
For when the noble
Caesar saw him stab,
ingratitude, more
strong than traitors' arms,
quite vanquished him,
then burst his mighty heart!
And, in his mantle
muffling up his face,
even at the base
of Pompey's statua,
which all the while ran
blood, great Caesar fell!
Oh, what a fall was
there, my countrymen.
Then I and you and
all of us fell down,
whilst bloody treason
flourished over us!
Ah. Now you weep.
Good friends, what,
weep you when you but behold
our Caesar's vesture wounded?
Look you here.
Here lies himself, marred,
as you see, with traitors!
- Oh, woeful day!
- Villains!
We will be revenged!
Good friends, sweet friends,
let me not stir you up to
such a sudden flood of mutiny.
They that have done
this deed are honorable.
What private griefs they have,
alas, I know not,
that made them do it.
They are wise and honorable
and will, no doubt,
with reason answer you.
I am no orator, as Brutus is.
But, as you know me all,
a plain, blunt man
that loved my friend.
I tell you that which
you yourselves do know.
Show you sweet
Caesar's wounds...
poor, poor dumb mouths...
and bid them speak for me.
But were I Brutus
and Brutus Antony
there were an Antony
would ruffle up your spirits
and put a tongue in
every wound of Caesar
that would stir the stones
of Rome to rise and mutiny!
Hear me, countrymen!
Yet hear me speak.
Why, friends, you go
to do you know not what.
Wherein hath Caesar
thus deserved your love?
You have forgot
the will I told you of.
Here is the will, and
under seal of Caesar.
To every Roman citizen he
gives, to every several man,
75 drachmas.
Moreover, he has
left you all his walks,
his private arbors,
and new-planted
orchards this side Tiber.
He has left them you
and to your heirs forever,
common pleasures to walk
abroad and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Caesar!
When comes such another?
- Never!
- Never!
Away! Away!
We'll burn his body
in the holy place,
and, with the brands,
fire the traitors' houses!
Take up the body!
Over thy wounds,
now do I prophesy.
A curse shall light
upon the limbs of men.
Domestic fury
and fierce civil strife
shall cumber all
the parts of Italy.
Blood and destruction
shall be so in use
and dreadful objects so familiar
that mothers shall but smile
when they behold their infants
quartered with the hand of war,
all pity choked with
custom of fell deeds.
And Caesar's spirit,
ranging for revenge,
with Ate by his side
come hot from hell,
shall, in these confines,
with a monarch's voice,
cry, "Havoc!" and let
slip the dogs of war,
that this foul deed shall
smell above the earth,
with carrion men
groaning for burial!
I-I'm... I'm Cinna...
Cinna the poet!
Cinna the poet!
I'm not Cinna the conspirator!
All the same, his name's Cinna.
Tear him to pieces!
Now let it work.
Mischief, thou art afoot.
Take thou what course thou wilt.
Now let's pause for a moment
and turn to our Westinghouse
program and June Graham.
Yes, watch out.
That drip pan's mighty full.
Oh! There it goes,
spilled all over.
That's what happens
when you're all dressed,
ready to go shopping,
and you're in a hurry.
She's defrosting
her refrigerator,
so naturally she had to
empty that messy defrost water.
And look what happened.
Defrosting is such a nuisance.
So trade in that
old refrigerator
that doesn't defrost
itself right now
and get a whale of a deal
on this big 12-cubic-foot
Westinghouse refrigerator
that keeps itself frost-free.
That's right.
That means there's no
defrosting in the refrigerator
or the freezer.
With a frost-free, there's
no messy drip tray to empty.
In fact, there's
nothing for you to do.
And just think how
you'd enjoy owning
this big 1955 Westinghouse
frost-free refrigerator
that's so big, so right
for your family today.
Well, for instance,
this huge freezer holds
51 pounds of frozen foods.
And look at all the
space in this refrigerator.
There's even more space in
these handy door shelves over here.
It's a lot of space, isn't it?
Yes, it's a Westinghouse
Food File refrigerator
with a special place
and a special cold
for every kind of food.
And here's a
feature that's optional
that you won't find in
any other refrigerator.
It's an exclusive Westinghouse
automatic twin juice fountain.
Now, you just keep a supply
of a thawed juice
concentrate in here.
And press the tap, like this.
The fountain automatically
mixes the concentrate
with the right amount
of cold water and air
to give it nature's
own freshness.
Now, while your
dealer is offering
a whale of a trade-in deal
on that 1955
Westinghouse refrigerator,
get rid of that old
undersize refrigerator
and get yourself a big
12-cubic-foot Westinghouse.
And he'll give you a whale
of a deal on other models, too,
at prices much lower
than you'd expect.
And remember, in
choosing your refrigerator,
you can be sure if
it's Westinghouse.
We return now
to "Westinghouse Studio
One Summer Theatre"
and "Julius Caesar."
Stand, ho!
Stand, ho! Speak the word along.
Stand!
Most noble brother,
you have done me wrong!
Cassius, be content.
Speak thy grief softly.
Before the eyes of both our
armies here, let us not wrangle.
Bid them move away.
Stand away.
Dardanius.
That you have wronged
me doth appear in this.
You have condemned
and noted Lucius Pella
for taking bribes
here of the Sardians,
wherein my letters, praying on
his side because I knew the man
were slighted off!
You wronged yourself
to write in such a case.
In such a time as
this it is not meet
that every nice offense
should bear his comment!
Let me tell you, Cassius...
You yourself are much
condemned to have an itching palm,
to sell and mart your offices
for gold to undeservers!
I, an itching palm?!
Remember March.
The ides of March, remember.
Shall we now contaminate
our fingers with base bribes?
Brutus, bay not me!
You forget yourself,
to hedge me in.
I am a soldier
and I abler than yourself
to make conditions.
Go to. You are not, Cassius.
I am!
I say you are not.
Urge me no more.
I shall forget myself!
Away, slight man!
Must I endure all this?!
All this!
Ay, more!
You say you are
a better soldier.
- Let it appear so!
- You wrong me every way!
I said an elder
soldier, not a better.
- Did I say "better"?
- If you did, I care not!
Do not presume too
much upon my love!
I may do that I
shall be sorry for!
You have done that
you should be sorry for!
I sent to thee for gold to pay
my legions, which you denied me.
I denied you not!
He was but a fool that
brought my answer back.
A friend should bear
his friend's infirmities,
but Brutus makes mine
greater than they are.
You love me not.
I do not like your faults.
A friendly eye could
never see such faults.
A flatterer's would not!
Oh, I could weep my
spirit from mine eyes.
There is my dagger,
here my naked breast.
I that denied thee
gold will give my heart.
If that thou beest a
Roman, take it forth!
Oh, Cassius.
Sheathe thy dagger.
You are yoked with a lamb
that carries anger
as the flint bears fire.
When I spoke that, I
was ill-tempered, too.
Do you confess so much?
Give me your hand.
And my heart, too.
Oh, Brutus.
Have not you love
enough to bear with me
when that rash humor
which my mother gave me
- makes me forgetful?
- Yes, Cassius.
And from henceforth,
when you are overearnest
with your Brutus,
he will think your mother
chides, and leave it so.
I did not think you could
have been so angry.
Oh, Cassius.
I am sick of many griefs.
Of your philosophy
you make no use
if you give place
to accidental evils.
No man bears sorrow better.
Portia is dead.
Portia.
She is dead.
How escaped I killing
when I crossed you so?
Upon what sickness?
Impatient at my absence.
And grief that young
Octavius and Marc Antony
have made themselves so strong.
For, with her death,
these tidings came.
With this, she fell distract,
and her attendants
absent, swallowed fire.
And died so?
Even so.
No more, I pray you.
I have the patience
to endure it now.
Well, to our work.
What think you of marching
to Philippi presently?
I do not think it good.
'Tis better that
the enemy seek us.
So shall he waste his
means, weary his soldiers,
whilst we, lying still,
are full of rest, defense,
and nimbleness.
Good reasons must, of
force, give place to better.
Young Octavius and Marc Antony
bring down upon
us a mighty power,
bending their expedition
toward Philippi.
The people 'twixt
Philippi and this ground
are but in a forced affection.
They have grudged
us contribution.
Now, if at Philippi
we face him there,
these people at our backs...
- Hear me, good brother.
- Under your pardon.
The enemy increaseth every day.
We, at the height,
are ready to decline.
There is a tide in
the affairs of men,
which, taken at the
flood, leads on to fortune.
Omitted, all the
voyage of their life
is bound in shallows
and in miseries.
Upon such a full sea
we are now afloat.
And we must take the
current when it serves,
or lose our ventures.
Then, with your will, go on.
If we do lose this battle...
what are you then
determined to do?
The same day must end the
work the ides of March began.
And whether we shall
meet again, I know not.
Therefore, our
everlasting farewell take.
If we do meet
again, we shall smile.
If not, why, then, this
parting was well made.
If we do meet again,
we'll smile indeed.
If not, why, then, this
parting was well made.
Farewell, Brutus.
Good night, dear brother.
Good night and sweet repose.
This is a sleepy tune.
Oh, let me see. Let me see.
Is not the leaf turned down
where I left off reading?
Yes. Here it is, I think.
How ill this taper burns.
Who comes here?
I think it is the
weakness of mine eyes
that shapes this
monstrous apparition.
Art thou anything?
Speak to me what thou art.
Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
Why comest thou?
To tell thee thou shalt
see me at Philippi.
Well, then... I shall
see thee again?
Aye.
At Philippi.
Why, then, I shall
see thee at Philippi.
Oh.
That a man could know the end
of this day's business ere it end.
But it sufficeth that
the day will end...
and so the end is known.
Fates, we will
know your pleasure.
Where does his body lie?
Lo, yonder.
Friends, I owe more
tears to this dead man
than you shall see me pay.
Milord, there is
no tarrying here.
I shall find time, oh, Cassius.
I shall find time.
Oh, Julius Caesar,
thou art mighty yet.
Thy spirit walks abroad
and turns our swords in
our own proper entrails.
Milord!
Slaying is the word.
It is a deed of fashion.
Hark thee, Clitus.
What? I?
No, milord, not
for all the world!
Peace, then! No words.
I'll rather kill myself.
Hark thee, Dardanius.
Shall I do such a thing?
What request did
Brutus make to thee?
To kill him, Clitus.
Look. He meditates.
Now is that vessel full of grief
that it runs over
even at his eyes.
Fly, milord, fly!
Fly, milord, fly.
Hence. I will follow.
Farewell.
My heart doth joy
that yet in all my life I found
no man but he was true to me.
I shall have glory
by this losing day,
more than Octavius
and Marc Antony
by this vile conquest
can attain unto.
Countrymen, farewell.
Night doth hang on mine eyes.
My bones would rest, that have
but labored to attain this hour.
Fly! Fly!
Hence, I prithee.
Lucius!
Stay thou with thy lord.
Thou art a fellow
of a good respect.
Hold then my sword
and turn your face away
while I do run upon it.
Wilt thou... Lucius?
Give me your hand first.
Farewell, milord.
Farewell, good Lucius.
Caesar...
now be still!
I killed not thee...
with half so good a will.
What man is that?
This was the noblest
Roman of them all.
All the conspirators,
save only he,
did that they did in
envy of great Caesar.
He only... in a
general honest thought
and common good to
all... made one of them.
His life was gentle, and
the elements so mixed in him
that nature might stand
up and say to all the world,
"This was a man."
And now June Graham
wants to show you
what to take on your vacation.
As you can see, I always
like to travel light myself.
But I'd never go away
without my Westinghouse
personal portable radio.
I love it because
it's a portable radio
that's really portable.
Look.
It has its own handsome-finish
cordovan carrying case.
And, you see, it's open here so
you can tune your Westinghouse
right in the case, like that.
It's the only portable
to take when you travel
because, well, lots of
portables, like this one,
hardly work when you're far
away from your favorite stations.
They sound like this.
Pretty weak and tinny, isn't it?
But the Westinghouse
portable has a rich, full tone.
Your favorite programs
come in wonderfully clear,
even from far-off stations.
And the Westinghouse
personal portable
comes in gray, green, or red.
It's a smart vacation companion.
And listen to this.
Now you can get it,
complete with carrying case
and long-life
batteries, a $39 value,
for only $29.95.
And remember, in
choosing your radio,
you can be sure if
it's Westinghouse.
Next week,
"Westinghouse Studio
One Summer Theatre"
will present "The Prince and
the Puppet" by Shirley Peterson,
starring Bil and Cora Baird
with their charming puppets.
Also appearing
will be Phyllis Hill,
Van Dyke Parks,
and Joseph Sweeney.
Keep cool all day long
with the new Westinghouse
Riviera four-way fan.
Cools four big rooms all night,
changing the air
every two minutes.
Or reverse it to
pull cool air in.
Get this Westinghouse
Riviera fan now,
and you get a $9.95
automatic fan timer free.
"Westinghouse Studio
One Summer Theatre"
has been selected for viewing
by America's armed forces
at home and overseas.
This is Paul Branson saying
good night for Westinghouse,
who have made more
than 40 million products
for the American home.
We hope you'll be
with us again next week.
Until then, good night.
"Studio One Summer
Theatre" originated live
from New York City.