Imatges de pÓgina



OPARDON 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.

Wo to the hand, that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,

(Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips,
To beg the voice and utt'rance of my tongue,)
A curse shall light upon the line 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 quarter'd by the hands of war;
All pity chok'd with custom of fell deeds;
And Caesar's spirit raging for revenge,
With Até by his side come hot from Hell,
Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice,
Cry Havock, and let slip the dogs of war.




FRIENDS, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears.

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 1 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 bath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the gen'ral coffers fill;
Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?

When that the poor hath cried, 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 withholds 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, O 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.
O what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
While 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
Our 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 up
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 love my friend and that they know full well,
That gave me public leave to speak of him :
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action nor utt'rance, nor the pow'r 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 mouths!
And bid them speak for me. But were 1 Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In ev'ry wound of Cæsar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.




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

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 case.
Cas. In such a time as this it is not meet,

That ev'ry nice offence should bear it's 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 corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide it's head.

[blocks in formation]

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'd rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.

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.

Brutus, bay not me,

Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius.


I am.

Bru. I say you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself

Have 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?

Bru. All this? ay more.-Fret till your proud heart break!

Go, tell

your 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,
Though 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 ev'ry way—you wrong me, Brutus; I said an elder soldier, not a better;

Did 1 say better?


Bru. If you 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;


do what I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry

There is no terrour, 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 denied me,
For I can raise no money by vile means.


« AnteriorContinua »