Imatges de pÓgina

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Antony's funeral oration over Cæsar's body.

FRIENDS, Romans,

RIENDS, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your


I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do, lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Cæsar! Noble Brutus
Hath told you,
Cæsar was ambitious ;
If it were so, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Cæsar answer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest,
(For Brutus is an honourable man,
So are they all, all honourable men)
Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me;
But Brutus says,
he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill;

Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cry'd, Cæsar, hath wept;
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious;

And Brutus is an honourable man.

You all did see, that, 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 honourable man.

I speak not 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 with-holds you then to mourn for him!
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason.---Bear with me.---
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,

And I must pause till it come back to me.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle: I remember,
The first time ever Cæsar put it on,
'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent.
That day he overcame the Nervii—

Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through;
See what a rent the envious Casca made.-
Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;
And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it!
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd,
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no:
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel.
Judge, oh ye gods! how dearly Cæsar lov'd him;
This, this was the unkindest cut of all;
For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
Quite vanquish'd him; then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statue,

Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.
Oh what a fail was there, my countrymen!
Then I and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
O, now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind souls; what, weep you when you but behold
Out Cæsar's vesture wounded? look you here!
Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, by traitors.---
Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you


To any sudden flood of mutiny.

They that have done this deed are honourable. What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, That made them do it; they are wise and honourable;

And will, no doubt, with reason answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts: I am no orator, as Brutus is :

But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man

That loves my friends: and that they know full


That gave me public leave to speak of him:
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action nor utt'rance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood: I only speak right on:
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor dumb

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 Cæsar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.



The Quarrel of Brutus and Cassius.

Cas. THAT you have wrong'd me doth appear in


You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella,
For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letter (praying on his side,
Because I knew the man) was slighted of.
Bru. You wrong'd yourself to write in such a


Cas. In such a time as this it is not meet That ev'ry nice offence should bear its comment. Bru. Yet let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm, To sell and mart your offices for gold, To undeservers.

Cas. I an itching palm?

You know, that you are Brutus that spake this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Bru. The name of Cassius honours this cor


And chastisement doth therefore hide its head..
Cas. Chastisement!

Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember!

Did not great Julius bleed for justice sake?
What villain touch'd his body, that did stab,
And not for justice? What, shall one of us,
That struck the foremost man of all this world,
But for supporting robbers; shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes?
And sell the mighty meed of our large honours
For so much trash, as may be grasped thus?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,

Than such a Roman.

Cas. Brutus, bay not me,

I'll not endure it; you forget yourself,
To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius.

Cas. I am.

Bru. I say, you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myselfHave mind upon your health-tempt me no farther. Bru. Away, slight man!

Cas. Is't possible?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

Cas. O gods! ye gods! must I endure all this?
Bra. All this? ay more. Fret till your proud
heart break;

Go tell slaves how choleric you are,
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?
Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humour? By the gods,

You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Tho' it do split you: for from this day forth,
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.

Cas. Is it come to this?

Bru. You say, you are a better soldier; Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,

And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

Cas. You wrong me every way-you wrong
me Brutus;

I said an elder soldier, not a better:
Did I say a better?
Bru. If did,



I care not.

Cas. When Cæsar liv'd, he durst not thus have

mov'd me.

Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him.

Cas. I durst not?

Bru. No.

Cas. What? durst not tempt him?
Bru. For your life you durst not.

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love; may do what I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that
you should be sorry for.
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not. I did send to you

For certain sums of gold, which you deny'd me;
For I can raise no money by vile means.
By heav'n, I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hand of peasants their vile trash
By any indirection. I did send

To you for gold to pay my legions,

Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?
Should I have answered Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts;,
Dash him to pieces.

Cas. I deny'd

Bru. You did.

you not.

Cas. I did not- he was but a fool

That brought my answer back.

my heart.

Brutus hath rivd

A friend should bear a friend's infirmities,

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