When that the Poor have cry'd, Cæfar hath wept ;
Ambition fhould be made of fterner fluff.

Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did fee, that on the Lupercal,
I thrice presented him a kingly Crown;
Which he did thrice refufe.

Was this ambition?

Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious,

And, fure, he is an honourable man.

I fpeak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not without caufe:
What cause with holds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beafls,
And men have loft their reafon-bear with me,
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæfar,
And I must paufe till it come back to me.

1 Pleb. Methinks, there is much reafon in his fayings. If thou confider rightly of the matter,

Cafar has had great wrong.

3 Pleb. Has he, Mafters ? I fear there will a worfe come in his place.

4 Pleb. Mark'd ye his words? he would not take the Crown;

Therefore, 'tis certain, he was not ambitious.

1 Pleb. If it be found fo, fome will dear abide it. 2 Pleb. Poor foul! his eyes are red as fire with

3

weeping.

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 ward of Cafar might

Have flood against the world; now lies he there,
And none fo poor to do him reverence.
O mafters! if I were difpos'd to stir

Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Caffius wrong
Who, you all know, are honourable men.
I will not do them wrong: I rather chufe
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you;
Than I will wrong fuch honourable men.
C 3

But

But here's a parchment, with the feal of Cæfar,
I found it in his closet, 'tis his Will;

Let but the Commons hear this Teftament,
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read)
And they would go and kifs dead Cafar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his facred blood;
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,

And dying, mention it within their Wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy,

Unto their iffue.

4 Pleb. We'll hear the Will, read it, Mark Anteny. All. The Will, the Will; we will hear Cafar's Will. Ant. Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read It is not meet you know how Cæfar lov'd you. [it; You are not wood, you are not ftones, but men ; And, being men, hearing the Will of Cafar, 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 would come of it? 4 Pleb. Read the Will, we will hear it, Antony : You shall read us the Will, Cafar's Will.

Ant. Will you be patient? will you stay a while? (I have o'er fhot myself, to tell you of it.)

I fear, I wrong the honourable men,

Whofe daggers have ftabb'd Cæfar.I do fear it. 4 Pleb.hey were traitors-honourable men! All. The Will! the Teftament!

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 corpfe of Cæsar,
And let me shew you him that made the Will.
Shall I defcend? and will you give me leave?
All. Come down.

2 Pleb. Defcend.

[He comes down from the pulpit.

3 Pleb. You fhall have leave.

4 Pleb. A ring; ftand round.

1 Pleb. Stand from the hearse, ftand from the body. 2 Pleb. Room for Antonymoft noble Antony. Ant. Nay, prefs not fo upon me, ftand far off.

All.

All Stand backroom-bear back

Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle; I remember,

The first time Cæfar ever put it on,

'Twas on a fummer's evening in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii

-(22)

Look! in this place, ran Caffius' 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 Cafar follow'd it!
As rushing out of doors, to be refolv'd,
If Brutus fo unkindly knock'd, or no?
For Brutus, as you know, was Cafar's angel.
Judge, oh you Gods! how dearly Cæfar lov'd him;
This, this, was the unkindeft cut of all;
For when the noble Gafar faw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors arms,
Quite vanquish'd him; then burft his mighty heart:
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the Bafe of Pompey's statue,

(Which all the while ran blood) great Cæfar fell.

(22) That day be overcame the Nervii.] This circumftance about Cafar's mantle, (which I prefume to be purely the poet's invention) abtracted from the chronology, is very pretty. Perhaps, it has not fo much propriety, as beauty, if we confider one thing. The Nervii were conquer'd in the ad year of his Gaulish expedition, 17 years bofore his affaffination; and 'tis hardly to be thought that Cæfar preferv'd one robe of ftate for fo long a period. Another circumstance, pretty like this, we meet with in Hamlet; the Ghoft of the old king appearing, Horatio, in defcribing the garb and figure he had affum'd, fays;

Such was the very armour he had on,

When he th' ambitious Norway combated. Now Horatio, being a school-fellow of young Hamlet, could hardly know in what armour the old king kill'd Fortinbras of Norway which happen'd on the very day whereon young Hamlet was born. Befides, in ftrictnefs, why fhould the Ghoft of the old king walk in armour, who was murdered in time of peace, fleeping in his garden? But thefe circumftances and ftrokes of fancy dress up an amusing picture, for which the poet, perhaps, is neither accountable to propriety, nor probability.

O what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down:
Whilft bloody treafon flourish'd over as.
O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel
The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind fouls! what, weep you when you but behold
Cur Cæfar's vefture wounded? look you here!
Here is himself, marr'd, as you fee, by traitors.
1 Pleb. O piteous fpectacle!

2 Pleb. O noble Cæfar! 3 Pleb. O woful day!

4 Pleb. O traitors, villains! i Pleb. O moft bloody fight!

2 Pleb. We will be reveng'd: revenge: aboutfeek-burn--fire--kill--flay ! let not a trai

ter live.

Ant. Stay, my Countrymen

1 Pleb. Peace there, hear the noble Antony.

2 Pleb. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.

[up Ant. Good friends, fweet friends, let me not ftir you To fuch a fudden flood of mutiny :

They, that have done this deed, are honourable.
What private griefs they have, alas! I know not,
'I hat made them do it: they are wife and honourable
And will, no doubt, with reafons anfwer you.
I come not, friends, to fieal 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 give me publick leave to speak of him:
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action nor utt'rance, nor the power of speech,
To ftir men's blood; I only speak right on.

I tell you that, which you yourfelves do know ;
Shew you fweet Cafar's wounds, poor, poor, dumb

mouths !

And bid them fpeak for me. But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your fpirits, and put a tongue

In

In every wound of Cæfar, that should move
The ftones of Rome to rise and mutiny.

All. We'll mutiny.

1 Pleb. We'll burn the houfe of Brutus.

3

Pleb. Away then, come, feek the confpirators. Ant. Yet hear me, Countrymen; yet hear me speak. All. Peace, ho, hear Antony, most noble Antony. Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what. Wherein hath Cafar thus deferv'd your loves? Alas, you know not; I must tell you, then : You have forgot the Will, I told you of.

[Will.

All. Moft true-the Will-let's ftay and hear the
Ant. Here is the Will, and under Cæfar's feal.

To ev'ry Roman citizen he gives,

To ev'ry fev'ral man, feventy-five drachmas.

2 Pleb. Moit noble Cafar! we'll revenge his death. 3 Pleb. O royal Cafar!

Ant. Hear me with patience.
All. Peace, ho.

Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
His private arbors, and new planted orchards,
(23) On that fide Tiber; he hath left them you,
And to your heirs for ever; common pleasures,
To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Cæfar, when comes fuch another?

1 Pleb. Never, never; come, away, away; We'll burn his body in the holy place,

(23) On this fide Tiber;] The fcene is here in the Forum near the Capitol, and in the most frequented part of the city; but Cæfar's gardens were very remote from that quarter.

Trans Tiberim longe cubar is prope Cæfaris hortos,

fays Horace and both the Naumachia and Gardens of Cafar were separated from the main city by the river; and lay out wide, on a line with mount Janiculum; where Statius, the poet, was buried. Our author therefore certainly wrote;

On that fide Tiber ;

And Plutarch, whom Shakespeare very diligently ftudied, in the life of Marcus Brutus, fpeaking of Cafar's Will, exprefly fays, That he left to the publick his gardens and walks beyond the Tiber; where, in that author's time, the temple of Fortune stoods