To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores ?
And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you now cull out a holiday ?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ?
Begone! -
Run to your houses ! fall upon your knees !
Pray to the gods to intermit the plagues,
That needs must light on this ingratitude !



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 Cæsar's to him I say, that Brutus's love to Cæsar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer : not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living, and die all slaves; than that Cæsar were dead, to live all freemen ? — As Cæsar loved 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's here so base, that would be a bondman ? if any, speak! for him have I offended. Who's here so rude, that would not be a Roman? if any, speak! for him have I offended. Who's here so vile, that will not love his country ? if any, speak ! for him have I offended. - I pause for a reply.

None ? then none have I offended! I have done no more to Cæsar, 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.

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.



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 was 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 honorable man !
So are they all! all honorable 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 honorable 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 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 withholds you, then, to mourn for him ?
O judgment! thou hast 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!

But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the world — now lies he there
And none so poor as 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,
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 his testament —
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read --
And they will 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 ! -

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 followed it ! -
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved
If Brutus so unkindly knock’d, or no; :
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel! -
Judge, O ye gods, how dearly Cæsar loved him !
This, this was the unkindest cut of all;
For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab! -
Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's 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 fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I, and you, and all of us, fell down;
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us !
Oh 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,
To such a sudden flood of mutiny!
They, that have done this deed, are honorable ! -
What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it: they are wise and honorable,
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 his friend — and that they know full well,

That gave me public leave to speak of him —
For I have neither writ, 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!



Oh that this too, too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! .
Or, that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter !
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world !
Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed: things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely.-- That it should come to this ! -
But two months dead ! — nay, not so much; not two ! -
So excellent a king! that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother,
That he would not let the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. ---Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on : yet, within a month, —
Let me not think — Frailty, thy name is woman!
A little month! or ere those shoes were old,

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