You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn to a modest gaze,
By the sweet power of music: Therefore, the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
But music for a time doth change his nature:
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affection dark as Erebus:

Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music.
Enter PORTIA and NERISSA, at a distance.
Por. That light we see is burning in my hall :-
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less:
A substitute shines brightly as a king,
Until a king be by; and then his state
Empties itself as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters.-Music! hark!

Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house.
Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect:
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.

Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.
Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,
When neither is attended; and, I think,
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.

How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise, and true perfection!
-Peace, hoa! the moon sleeps with Endymion.
And would not be awak'd!

Lor. Madam, they are not yet;
But there is come a messenger before,
To signify their coming.

Por. Go in, Nerissa,

Lor. That is the voice,

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckow, By the bad voice.

Lor. Dear lady, welcome home.

Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare, Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Are they return'd?

Give order to my servants, that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence.-
Nor you, Lorenzo ;—Jessica, nor you.

[Music ceases.

[A trumpet sounds.

Lor. Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet: -We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not.

Por. This night, methinks, is but the day-light sick, It looks a little paler; 't is a day,

Such as the day is when the sun is hid.

MERCY.

Portia. The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven,
Upon the place beneath: It is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes :
"T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings:
It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice: Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this-
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: We do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

EARLY FEMALE FRIENDSHIP.

Helena. Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,
The sister's vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us.-O, and is all forgot?

All school-day's friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,

Have with our needles created both one flower;
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion;
Both warbling of one song, both in one key;
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted;
But yet a union in partition,

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem.

CESAR'S FUNERAL.

Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of CITIZENS.
Cit. We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.

Bru. Then follow me, and give me audience, friends.-
Cassius go you into the other street,
And part the numbers.-

Those that will hear me speak, let them stay here;
Those that will follow Cassius, go with him;
And public reasons shall be rendered

Of Cesar's death.

1 Cit. I will hear Brutus speak.

2 Cit. I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons, When severally we hear them rendered. Exit CASSIUS, with some of the CITIZENS. the Rostrum.

BRUTUS goes into

3 Cit. The noble Brutus is ascended: Silence!
Bru. Be patient till the last.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers? hear me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honor; and have respect to mine honor, that you may believe; censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Cesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Cesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand, why Brutus rose against Cesar, this is my answer.-Not that I loved Cesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cesar were living, and die all slaves; than that Česar were dead to live all freemen? As Cesar lov'd me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him: There are tears, for his love; joy, for his fortune; honor for his valor; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base, that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile, that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.

Cit. None, Brutus, none.

[Several speaking at once.

Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cesar, than you should do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol: his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death.

Enter ANTONY and others, with CESAR's Body.

Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart; That, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.

Cit. Live, Brutus, live! live!

1 Cit. Bring him with triumph home unto his house.

2 Cit. Give him a statute with his ancestors.

3 Cit. Let him be Cesar.

4 Cit. Cesar's better parts

Shall now be crown'd in Brutus.

1 Cit. We'll bring him to his house with shouts and clamours.

Bru. My countrymen,

2 Cit. Peace; silence! Brutus speaks.

1 Cit. Peace, ho!

Bru. Good countrymen, let me depart alone,
And, for my sake, stay here with Antony:
Do grace to Cesar's corpse, and grace his speech
Tending to Cesar's glories; which Mark Antony,
By our permission, is allow'd to make.

I do entreat you, not a man depart,
Save I alone, till Antony have spoke.

1 Cit. Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony. 3 Cit. Let him go up into the public chair; We'll hear him: Noble Antony, go up.

Ant. For Brutus' sake, I am beholden to you. 4 Cit. What does he say of Brutus ?

3 Cit. He says for Brutus' sake,

He finds himself beholden to us all.

4 Cit. 'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here. 1 Cit. This Cesar was a tyrant.

3 Cit. Nay, that's certain:

We are bless'd, that Rome is rid of him.

2 Cit. Peace; let us hear what Antony can say.

[Exit.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Cesar seem ambitious?

Ant. You gentle Romans,

Cit. Peace, ho! let us hear him.

Ant. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;

I come to bury Cesar, 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 Cesar! The noble Brutus
Hath told you, Cesar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Česar answered it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest,
(For Brutus is an honorable man;
So are they all, all honorable men)
Come I to speak in Cesar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me :
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.

When that the poor have cried, Cesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable 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 honorable 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 witholds 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 Cesar,
And I must pause 'till it come back to me.

1 Cit. Methinks, there is much reason in his sayings.

2 Cit. If thou consider rightly of the matter,

Cesar has had great wrong.

3 Cit. Has he, masters?

I fear there will a worse come in his place.

4 Cit. Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the

crown:

Therefore 'tis certain, he was not ambitious.

1 Cit. If it be found so, some will dear abide it

2 Cit. Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping. 3 Cit. There's not a nobler man in Rome, than Antony.

4 Cit. Now mark him, he begins again to speak.

Ant. But yesterday the word of Cesar might
Have stood against the world: now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
O masters! if I were dispos'd to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honorable men:
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I will wrong such honorable 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 dear Cesar'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 Cit. We'll hear the will: Read it, Mark Antony.