Julius Caesar Page #5

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freedom and liberty!'

Stoop, then, and wash.

How many ages hence shall this our lofty scene be acted over

in states unborn and accents yet unknown!

How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,

that now on Pompey's basis lies along no worthier than the dust!

So oft as that shall be,

so often shall the knot of us be call'd the men that gave their country liberty.

- What, shall we forth?

- Ay, every man away!

Brutus shall lead. And we will grace his heels with the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.

Soft! who comes here?

Welcome, Mark Antony.

O mighty Caesar!

Dost thou lie so low?

Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,

shrunk to this little measure?

Fare thee well.

I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,

Who else must be let blood? Who else is rank?

If I myself, there is no hour so fit as Caesar's death hour,

nor no instrument of half that worth as those your swords,

made rich with the most noble blood of all this world.

I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,

fulfil your pleasure.

Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die.

No place will please me so, no mean of death, as here by Caesar, and by you cut off,

the choice and master spirits of this age.

O Antony, beg not your death of us.

Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,

as, by our hands and this our present act, you see we do,

yet see you but our hands and this the bleeding business they have done.

Our hearts you see not.

They are pitiful.

For your part,

to you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony.

Your voice shall be as strong as any man's

in the disposing of new dignities.

Only be patient till we have appeased the multitude, beside themselves with fear,

and then we will deliver you the cause, why I, that did love Caesar

when I struck him, have thus proceeded.

I doubt not of your wisdom.

Let each man render me

his bloody hand.

First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you.

Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand.

Caesar,

If thy spirit look upon us now, shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death,

to see thy Anthony making his peace,

shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes

-Most noble!- in the presence of thy corse?

Mark Antony,--

Pardon me, Caius Cassius.

Will you be prick'd in number of our friends?

Or shall we on, and not depend on you?

Friends am I with you all, and love you all.

Upon this hope,

that you shall give me reasons why and wherein Caesar was dangerous.

Or else were this a savage spectacle.

Our reasons are so full of good regard that were you, Antony, the son of Caesar,

you should be satisfied.

That's all I seek.

And am moreover suitor that I may produce his body to the market-place,

and in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, speak in the order of his funeral.

You shall, Mark Antony.

Brutus, a word with you.

You know not what you do.

Do not consent that Antony speak in his funeral.

Know you how much the people may be moved by that which he will utter?

By your pardon.

I will myself into the pulpit first,

and show the reason of our Caesar's death.

What Antony shall speak, I will protest he speaks by leave and by permission,

and that we are contented Caesar shall have all true rites and lawful ceremonies.

It shall advantage more than do us wrong.

I know not what may fall.

I like it not.

Mark Antony,

here, take you Caesar's body.

You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,

But speak all good, you can devise of Caesar,

and say you do't by our permission.

Else shall you not have any hand at all about his funeral.

and you shall speak in the same pulpit

whereto I am going, after my speech is ended.

Be it so. I do desire no more.

Prepare the body then, and follow us.

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,

that I am meek and gentle with these

butchers!

Thou art the ruins of the noblest man

that ever lived in the tide of times.

Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!

Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,--

A curse shall light upon the limbs of men.

Domestic fury and fierce civil strife shall cumber all the parts of Italy!

Blood and destruction shall be so in use and dreadful objects so familiar

that mothers shall but smile when they behold their infants quarter'd with the hands of war.

And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,

with Ate by his side come hot from hell, shall in these confines with a monarch's voice cry 'Havoc,'

and let slip the dogs of war.

- You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?

- I do, Mark Antony.

Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.

He did receive his letters, and is coming.

And bid me say to you by word of mouth--

O Caesar!--

Passion, I see, is catching.

Is thy master coming?

He lies tonight within 7 leagues of Rome.

Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome.

No Rome of safety for Octavius yet.

Hie hence, and tell him so.

Yet, stay awhile.

Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corpse into the market-place.

I try there how the people take the cruel issue of these bloody men.

We will be satisfied! let us be satisfied!

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 'em stay here.

Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; and public reasons shall be rendered

of Caesar's death.

The noble Brutus is ascended.

Silence!

Be patient till the last.

Romans,

countrymen,

and lovers!

Hear me for my cause,

and be silent.

Believe me for mine honour,

and have respect to mine honour, 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 Caesar's,

to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.

If then that friend demand

why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer:

Not that I loved Caesar less,

but that I loved Rome more.

Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves,

than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men?

As Caesar loved me,

I weep for him.

As he was fortunate, I rejoice at it.

As he was valiant, I honour him.

but, as he was ambitious,

I slew him.

There is tears

for his love,

joy for his fortune,

honour for his valour

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.

None, Brutus, none.

None.

Then none

have I offended

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.

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