Speeches (Lines) for Clitus in "The Tragedy of Julius Caesar"

Total: 8
print
# Act / Scene Speech text
1 V / 5
  • Statilius show'd the torch-light, but, my lord,
    He came not back: he is or t...
  • Statilius show'd the torch-light, but, my lord,
    He came not back: he is or ta'en or slain.
  • Brutus. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.

    Clitus. Statilius show'd the torch-light, but, my lord,
    He came not back: he is or ta'en or slain.

2 V / 5
  • What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
  • What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
  • Brutus. Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word;
    It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.

    Clitus. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.

3 V / 5
  • I'll rather kill myself.
  • I'll rather kill myself.
  • Brutus. Peace then! no words.

    Clitus. I'll rather kill myself.

4 V / 5
  • O Dardanius!
  • O Dardanius!
  • Dardanius. Shall I do such a deed?

    Clitus. O Dardanius!

5 V / 5
  • What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
  • What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
  • Dardanius. O Clitus!

    Clitus. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?

6 V / 5
  • Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
    That it runs over even at his eyes.
  • Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
    That it runs over even at his eyes.
  • Dardanius. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.

    Clitus. Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
    That it runs over even at his eyes.

7 V / 5
  • Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
  • Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
  • Volumnius. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.

    Clitus. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.

8 V / 5
  • Fly, my lord, fly.
  • Fly, my lord, fly.
  • Brutus. Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius.
    Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
    Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,
    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 Mark Antony
    By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
    So fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
    Hath almost ended his life's history:
    Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
    That have but labour'd to attain this hour.

    Clitus. Fly, my lord, fly.

© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.

shakespeare_network

© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.