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Ant. Friends, 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! The 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 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.
1 Pleb. Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
2 Pleb. If thou consider rightly of the matter, Cæsar has had great wrong. 3 Pleb.
Has he, masters ? I fear, there will a worse come in his place. 4 Pleb. Marked ye his words ? He would not take
the crown : Therefore, 'tis certain he was not ambitious.
1 Pleb. If it be found so, some will dear abide it. 2 Pleb. Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with
weeping 3 Pleb. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony 4 Pleb. Now mark him ! he begins again to speak.
Ant. But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the world: now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
O masters ! if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong ;
all know, are honourable men.
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I would wrong such honourable men.
But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cæsar;
I found it in his closet, 'tis 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 Cæsar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood;
Yea, beg a hair of him, for memory;
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,
Unto their issue.
4 Pleb. We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony. All. The will, the will; we will hear Cæsar's will. Ant. Have patience, gentle friends; I must not read it :
It is not meet you know how Cæsar loved you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men:
And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar,
It will inflame you—it will make you mad. .
'Tis good you know
not that you are his heirs ; For if you should, O what will come of it ?
4 Pieb. Read the will; we will hear it, Antony : You shall read us the will—Cæsar's will!
Ant. Will you be patient? will you stay awhile ?
I have o'ershot myself, to tell you of it:
I fear I wrong the honourable men,
Whose daggers have stabbed Cæsar: I do fear it.
4 Pleb. They were traitors. Honourable men!
All. The will ! the testament !
2 Pleb. They were villains-murderers ! The will !
read the will !
Ant. You will compel me, then, to read the will ?
Then make a ring about the corpse of Cæsar,
And let me show you him that made the will.
Shall I descend ! and will you give me leave ?
All. Come down.
2 Pleb. Descend. [He comes down from the pulpit.
3 Pleb. You shall have leave.
4 Pleb. A ring ! stand round !
1 Pleb. Stand from the hearse! stand from the body !
2 Pleb. Room for Antony! most noble Antony !
Ant. Nay, press not so upon me: stand far off.
All. Stand back ! room ! bear back!
Ant. 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 stabbed;
And, as he plucked his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar followed it;
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved
If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel :
Judge, O you gods ! how dearly Cæsar loved him.
This was the most unkindest cut of all ;
For, when the noble Cæsar 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 statue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell!
0, what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down :
Whilst bloody treason flourished over us.
0, 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! marred as you see, with traitors.
1 Pleb. O piteous spectacle !
2 Pleb. O noble Cæsar !
3 Pleb. O woeful day!
4 Pleb. O traitors ! villains !
1 Pleb. O most bloody sight!
2 Pleb. We will be revenged ! Revenge ! AboutSeek-burn-fire-kill-slay—let not a traitor live!
Ant. Stay, countrymen.
1 Pleb. Peace, there! Hear the noble Antony.
2 Pleb. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die
Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir
you up To such a 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 reasons 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 utterance, 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 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 Cæsar, that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.
ACT I., SCENE 3.
Venice.-A Council Chamber. Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither.
[Exeunt two or three. Oth. Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place.
[Exit IAGO. And, till she come, as truly as to heaven I do confess the vices of my blood, So justly to your grave ears I'll present How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, And she in mine.