In the play, Julius Caesar, a pattern emerges that does not shine well on the character of Marcus Brutus. What slowly appeared as the dominant trait of Brutus, forcing aside any good sense, seemed an enormous ego, which in its intemperance proved the direct cause of Brutus’s doom -- and that of his allies.

The weak thought and strategy of Brutus come as a result of his belief that his thought was the most logical and direct manner that any man would take in such trials and situations. Under the guise of objectivity, subjective thought never came to a more inevitable end.

The transparency of Brutus’s thought is evident throughout the play and appears as early as 1.2, when Cassius first approaches Brutus. Cassius is aware of the unrest in Brutus, and with only the briefest prelude, in line 342 of 1.2, Cassius begins probing for the reasons for Brutus’s solitude and obstinate manner. Allowing Brutus time to explain himself as, "with himself at war," (1.2.46), Cassius then seizes the chance to truly speak his mind.

Using flattery, Cassius tells Brutus of the former Brutus, who, in the eyes of many of Rome’s leading citizens, would never have allowed any man to grasp the power Caesar now holds after his victory in the recent civil war. In the play’s next lines, Brutus asks a staggering question:

The only interruption of Cassius during his next speech is by the cheers of the crowd, which act as a prod to the urgency of Cassius’ message. In his anxiety, Brutus, as if thinking aloud, states that he fears, "the people choose Caesar for their king" (1.2.79-80). Despite his professing his love for Caesar after admitting that he would not have Caesar crowned, Brutus, rather than leaving and seeking peace elsewhere, in fact prods Cassius to continue: "What is it that you would impart to me?" (1.2.84).

Brutus allows Cassius free rein in his following speech, thus, in effect, encouraging Cassius to use flattery in his comparison of Brutus with Caesar. No interruptions here must show that Brutus shared the same thought, reinforced by Brutus’ comment: "What you would work me to I have some aim" (1.2.163). In perhaps the only wise move he makes, Brutus doesn’t commit himself to anything more than another meeting:

Brutus agreeing to speak with Casca immediately after his promise of consideration seals his commitment to the death of Caesar (1.2.182). This actually finalizes the resolve that began well before this scene and the questions of Cassius. Information about the events the public shouted over could have been related by anyone, anytime, on is way home--and such queries would not have aroused the suspicions of Caesar. With this pulling of Casca’s cloak, Brutus truly set the play in motion. With this, we see the first sign of the ego that has blinded Brutus to the possibility that no two men see a situation in identical terms except on the surface.

Taking the conversation with Casca for granted, meaning the pulling of Casca’s cloak that alerted Caesar, seems more than careless in light of Brutus’ recent conversation with Cassius. We know that Caesar was suspicious of Cassius, and despite the petty reasons in Caesar’s mind, these suspicions still proved valid. Had Brutus not had such care of Brutus, he may have noticed Caesar at this moment.

This flaw in Brutus--an inflated ego that touches indifference toward others, comes into dull view in his soliloquy in 2.1.10-34, when he has determined to accept the leadership of this conspiracy. Nothing of this speech reflects what Caesar has done, rather on what Brutus fears. These fears are self-motivated, because in his reverie, Brutus states:

The ego of Brutus runs much deeper than this denotes. In this first instance of his blundering in this scene, Brutus, as accepted leader of these conspirators, quickly disregards any suggestion or proposal. His slighting regard of Cicero suggests limited action by imploring not only fewer conspirators and less bloodshed, but also less opposition to Brutus:

Further evidence of Brutus’s character comes in his disregard for Antony in this scene. Once the conspirators have gathered, Decius asks, "Shall no man else be touched but only Caesar?" (2.1.154). Cassius makes good sense in his opinion that Antony should die as well as Caesar:

Brutus, ignoring Antony as he did, proves the folly of the play. The answer Brutus gives Cassius concerning the death of Antony is one of studied ego. Cassius, in his argument, shows a finer knowledge of their time and enemies, and their potential to annoy this coalition, than Brutus shows at the end of the play. In overriding Cassius on the point of Antony’s death, Brutus does make superb sense, but in full contradiction to the indifference shown minutes before concerning the death of Caesar. He now fears, "Our course will seem too bloody" (2.1.162), with the death of Antony. The true reason Brutus insists on sparing Antony becomes clear only after the death of Caesar.

Despite the fears of Cassius over sparing Antony, and the reasons he would give to substantiate this fear (2.1.183-4), he is interrupted by Brutus with a contemptuous slight that reflects harshly on Cassius. Brutus’s disdainful sneer of Antony shows a deep mistrust of not only Cassius, but also of other men who would follow anything that Brutus does not begin. These lives reek of the condescension one would show a sniveling child.

The will of Brutus governs all these conspirators, and the comment of Trebonius in line 190 of 2.1, seconding Brutus, seals the discussion while sounding overall approval of that plan begun by Brutus. Any worries of Cassius seem trivial to these conspirators well acquainted with Caesar’s habits. These men placed no groundwork for what could happen after their treason. The only thought for Rome and themselves the next day is that Antony "...will live and laugh at this hear after" (2.1.191). Such a lack of political savvy and miserable character judgment drive the second blunder of Brutus in this scene, and certainly the one that haunted him. This scene nears farce in the subjective determination all these characters show in their will to silence Cassius.

The next scene showing an important delineation of Brutus’ character comes in 3.1.143, when he speaks so confidently of having Antony as an ally. This belief comes from nothing shown in Antony toward Brutus thus far. Brutus’s thought is purely subjective now; as elected leader of these conspirators, the man leads by his will alone, and he will not hear other voices. Cassius again tells Brutus of his fear of Antony, based on those reasons listed in 2.1.157-60. Here, at the moment of crisis, with Caesar dead at their feet, Brutus completely ignores Cassius and welcomes Antony as though he had met a long-lost friend. Nothing of Brutus’s actions here make sense in light not only of the thought Cassius provides but also of the blood on Brutus’s hands. Brutus believed that because his love for Rome was so great, it must then follow that Antony’s love for Rome, and Rome only, must mirror that of Brutus. Such near-sightedness processes neurotic and worsens as the play progresses.

This attitude, forcing these situations, turns Brutus into the sole antagonist at this point of the play. Cassius proves the better parent of Brutus’s conscience. The intellect of Cassius proves itself later, while the ego of Brutus rampages in this scene. Brutus’s underestimation of Antony serves as nothing more than his true thought of Cassius.

Brutus seems determined at this point to gain public approval, which he feels he can obtain through a use of Antony.

Antony, however, clearly proves himself the consummate politician Cassius earlier feared--once Antony realizes that he must deal with Brutus: "I doubt not your wisdom. / Let each men render me his bloody hand (3.1.183-84). With this, Antony begins his mourning of Caesar--and saves his own life not merely with these handshakes, but with the blunt statement to these men that: "One of two ways you must conceit me, / Either a coward or a flatterer" (3.1.192-93). Here, Antony's tirade begins and Cassius hasn't a chance to interrupt until Antony's emotion seems exhausted. Cassius, however, remains intent on settling the matter of Antony's future allegiance and inserts his questions to Antony before further interruption (3.1.214-17).

Antony's shrewdness now appears in his answer to Brutus (3.1.226-30). Without a tremor, Antony modestly answers Brutus, yet thinking far ahead of "these butchers" makes a provision for himself to which Brutus at once consents. The alarm Cassius feels, based on what he knows of Antony, (2.1.157-60), is brazenly overruled by Brutus simply because Brutus: "...will myself into the pulpit first / And show the reason of our Caesar's death"(3.1.236-37). No more should be done because no more could be done, having come from the mind of Brutus. This man now sells Antony as short in both intellect and foresight as he had repeatedly done to Cassius. In turning to speak to Antony, Brutus uses a harsher voice and confirms his control of the situation in his own mind. Antony, "the shrewed contriver" accepts Brutus's condition with gentle humility, all the while biding his time--and opportunity.

The respective speeches of Brutus and Antony are marvelous examples of compare and contrast. Brutus failed to deeply move the public in his speech, unable to relate more than his view of the turmoil his fellow Romans felt. His dialog, centered on politics and patriotism, touched only the surface of the public's emotions. The poet's use of prose shows Brutus as reasoning--deliberate in thought and action, and strictly true to character. At a time when the public was near riot, Brutus calms them and convinces them of his love for Rome, stating bluntly that his deed came on their behalf. Brutus could no see, perhaps blinded by his nobility, that a mob once ready to riot still has a smoldering fuse. His leaving the scene marks the worst blunder possible because the future of Brutus still depended on the words of Antony. Brutus's failure came in not turning this scene into a debate with Antony.

Antony's speech, in verse, is one of the most passionate and moving in all of Shakespeare, and proves so because of the absence of Brutus. With a steady, calculated use of emotion and mockery (the references to "honorable"), Antony makes perfect use of his freedom to speak by manipulating the public's emotion--and not their intellect.

Brutus's entire plan, developed the night before as noted in 2.1.10-34, has proven a wholesale fiasco. His quick objection to any thought other than his own proves that Brutus developed a strategy and insisted on following it, but the play's transition at this point proves his complete lack of tactical understanding. In spite of this reversal of fortune and his obvious blunders, this ego still ruled the thought of Brutus.

In Act Four, Scene Three, Brutus's nobility seems to have crowded his reason from the fact that he now struggles for his survival. Once his argument with Cassius is over and the conversation turns to strategy, Brutus asks his council's opinion of his planned march to Philippi without the slightest intention of weighing their advice.

The reasons Cassius gives for staying encamped are excellent defensive measures. Rest and discipline lend themselves to nimbleness that creates the kind of defense that creates a winning counterattack. These reasons Cassius offers for not leaving make superb sense to a soldier--as was their case--encamped and waiting for attack.

Brutus, by his will, forces his thought over that of Cassius. Those lines of Cassius (4.3.190-202), denote that he and Brutus have had ample time to take stock of the surrounding area and prepare not only the best means of defense, but to know that terrain which would best lend itself to counterattack.

Brutus, however, makes light of Cassius and defensive measures. Beginning with line 203 of 4.3, Brutus speaks his own mind and damns the objectivity of others, demonstrating little knowledge of his own well-being. By dismissing the opinion of Cassius here as he did, Brutus thought of nothing and no one other than Brutus.

The thought of the people between their camp and Philippi should hardly have mattered for an instant to any commander, however deep the grudge may have been. The local population joining the ranks of Octavius and Antony should have relieved Brutus, for such men, no longer growing irate at his back, would serve better as the enemy's weapon bearers. The enemies of Brutus and Cassius would hardly have come to the attack "refresh'd" and "encouraged," but stressed by extra numbers they would have had to feed and coerce into a fighting force in short time. Doubt of any information concerning the movement of Brutus's forces--since time, meaning travel, must negate accuracy in this play's setting-- should then force Octavius and Antony to pause as they evaluate this information. Brutus should have readily felt encouraged by this turn of events, yet his ego worked harder than his intellect. This man's responsibility was to those who followed Brutus because of Brutus and not merely for the sake of gold.

Brutus does continue with a more serious concern--but over a matter that concerned Brutus and not his colleagues or their common cause: "We have tried the utmost of our friends..." (4.3.214), sounds too ambiguous to accurately define. Should Brutus mean those in camp with him, then reason or discipline was needed to maintain faith and unity. Friends outside camp, even if they supplied Brutus's legions, had no right to weigh on his mind at this time since his enemy marched toward him.

The thought of Brutus at this point of his life, delving on what may or may not occur to those not concerned with his camp, proves the same type of misguided thought that caused his trouble after the murder of Caesar. His inability to see into tomorrow troubles him still, while these worries that do concern him are of the kind that junior officers could easily have handled. This man had no grasp of either strategy or tactics.

Brutus's assumption of command, despite this being handed to him, became the command of Brutus alone, always and only the voice of Brutus in final judgment. Not once, despite listening to Cassius, did Brutus ever weigh the advice or opinions given him when Cassius disagreed with what Brutus had previously devised.

Despite either having an advantage or resting in safety, Brutus continued to think himself into greater danger. Examples of this arrogant subjectivity show in his determination to allow Antony to speak at the Capitol, and in his insistence to leave camp for Philippi. These two blunders ruined whatever hopes Brutus may have had for either Rome, or himself. The poet's depiction of a noble mind ever intent on improvement is in fact one of subtle buffoonery and irony. Brutus is a nobleman with true care and concern for Rome and Romans, yet his greatest concern was ever for himself.