ANTONY'S FUNERAL ORATION OVER
FRIENDS, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears.
I come to bury Cæfar, 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 Cæfar! Noble Brutus
Hath told you, Cæfar was ambitious:
If it were fo, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Cæfar anfwer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the reft,
(For Brutus is an honourable man,
So are they all, all honourable men,)
Come I to fpeak in Cæfar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me;
But Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whofe ranfoms did the general coffers fill;
Did this in Cæfar feem ambitious?
When that the poor hath cried, Cæsar hath wept ;
Ambition fhould be made of fterner stuff.
Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did fee, that, on the Lupercal,
I thrice prefented 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 difprove what Brutus fpoke,
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 beafts,
And men have loft their reafon.-Bear with me.-
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæfar,
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 Cæfar put it on,
'Twas on a fummer's evening in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii
Look! in this place ran Caffius' dagger through;
See what a rent the envious Cafca made.
Through this the well beloved Brutus ftabb'd;
And as he pluck'd his curfed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæfar follow'd it!
As rufhing out of doors, to be refolv'd,
If Brutus fo unkindly knock'd, or no:
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæfar's angel.
Judge, O ye gods! how dearly Cæfar lov'd him;
This, this was the unkindeft cut of all;
For when the noble Cæfar faw him ftab,
Ingratitude, more ftrong than traitors' arms,
Quite vanquish'd him; then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the bafe of Pompey's ftatue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæfar fell.
O what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilft bloody treason flourish'd over us.
O! now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity; thefe are gracious drops.
Kind fouls; what! weep you when you but behold
Our Cæfar's vefture wounded? lock you here!
Here is himself, marr'd, as you fee, by traitors.
Good friends, fweet friends, let me not ftir you up
To any fudden flood of mutiny.
R 4
They that have done this deed are honourable.
What private griefs they have, alas! I know not,
That made them do it; they are wife 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 ftir men's blood; I only fpeak right on:
I tell you that which you yourfelves do know;
Show you fweet Cæfar'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 every wound of Cæfar, that should move
The ftones of Rome to rife and mutiny.
THE QUARREL OF BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.
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 fide,
Because I knew the man) was flighted of.
BRU. You wrong'd yourfelf to write in fuch a case.
CAS. In fuch a time as this it is not meet
That ev'ry nice offence should bear its comment.
BRU. Yet let me tell you, Caffius, you yourself
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm,
To fell and mart your offices for gold,
You know that you are Brutus that spake this,
Or, by the gods, this fpeech were else your last.
BRU. The name of Caffius honours this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide its head.
BRU. Remember March, the ides of March remember! Did not great Julius bleed for juftice fake? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That ftruck the foremost man of all this world, But for fupporting robbers; fhall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ? And fell the mighty meed of our large honours For fo much trash as may be grafped thus? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than fuch a Roman.
CAS. Brutus, bay not me,
I'll not endure it; you forget yourself,
To hedge me in; I am a foldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.
BRU. Go to; you are not, Caffius.
CAS. I am.
BRU. I fay you are not.
CAS. Urge me no more, I fhall forget myfelf
Have mind upon your health-teinpt me no further..
BRU. Away, flight man!
CAS. Is't poffible?
BRU. Hear me, for I will fpeak.
Muft I give way and room to your rafh choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman ftares ?
CAS. O gods! ye gods! muft I endure all this?
BRU. All this? ay more.-Fret till your proud heart
Go, tell your flaves how choleric you are,
And make your bendmen tremble. Must I budge?
Muft I obferve you? must I ftand and crouch
Under your testy humour? By the gods,.
You shall digeft the venom of your fpleen,
Though it do fplit you: for from this day forth
I'll ufe you for my mirth, yea for my laughter,
When you are wafpifh.
CAS. Is it come to this.?
You fay, you are a better foldier:
Let it appear fo; make your vaunting true,
And it fhall please me well.
I fhall be glad to learn of noble men.
CAS. You wrong me every way-you wrong me,
I faid an elder foldier, not a better;
Did I fay better?
BRU. If you did, I care not.
CAS. When Cæfar lived, he durft not thus have mov'd me.. BRU. Peace, peace; you durft not so have tempted him.. CAS. I durft not!
CAS. Do not prefume too much upon my love;
I may do what I shall be forry for.
BRU. You have done that you should be forry for.
There is no terrour, Caffius, in your threats;
For I am arm'd fo ftrong in honefty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I refpect not. I did fend to you
For certain fums of gold, which you
For I can raife no money by vile means.
By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring.
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