Julius Caesar Page #6

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Live, Brutus!

Live, Brutus!

- Give him a statue with his ancestors.

- Let him be Caesar.

Caesar's better parts shall be crown'd in Brutus.

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

- My countrymen,--

- Peace, silence!

- Brutus speaks.

- Peace!

Good countrymen,

let me depart alone,

and, for my sake, stay here with Antony.

Do grace to Caesar's corpse,

and grace his speech tending to Caesar'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.

Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.

We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.

For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you.

What does he say of Brutus?

He says, for Brutus' sake,

he finds himself beholding to us all.

'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.

This Caesar was a tyrant.

That's certain. We are blest that Rome is rid of him.

- You gentle Romans,--

- Peace, ho! let us hear him.

Friends,

Romans,

countrymen,

lend me your ears.

I come to bury Caesar, 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 Caesar.

The noble Brutus

hath told you Caesar was ambitious.

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

and grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.

Here,

under leave of Brutus

and the rest--

For Brutus is an honourable man.

So are they all,

all honourable men--

Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.

He was my friend,

faithful and just to me.

But Brutus says he was ambitious.

And Brutus is an honourable man.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome

whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:

Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept.

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff!

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious.

And Brutus is an honourable 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 honourable 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?

Judgment! hou art fled to brutish beasts,

And men have lost their reason.

Bear with me.

My heart is there with Caesar,

and I must pause till it come back to me.

Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.

If thou consider rightly of the matter,

Caesar has had great wrong.

Has he, masters? I fear there will a worse come in his place.

Mark'd ye his words?

He would not take the crown.

Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious.

There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.

But yesterday the word of Caesar might have stood against the world.

Now lies he there.

And none so poor to 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 honourable men.

I will not do them wrong.

I rather choose to wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, than I will wrong such honourable men.

But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar.

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 dead Caesar'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.

The will, the will! we will hear Caesar's will.

Silence!

Have patience, gentle friends,

I must not read it.

It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.

You are not wood, you are not stones, but men

and, being men, bearing the will of Caesar, 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!

Read the will!

Will you be patient? will you stay awhile?

I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it.

I fear I wrong the honourable men

whose daggers have stabb'd Caesar I do fear it!

- They were traitors!

- The will! the testament!

You will compel me, then, to read the will?

The will!

Read the will!

Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar, and let me show you him that made the will.

Shall I descend?

And will you give me leave?

Stand far off.

You all do know this mantle.

I remember the first time ever Caesar 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 Caesar follow'd it.

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel.

Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!

This was the most unkindest cut of all

for when the noble Caesar saw him stab,

ingratitude, more strong than traitors' 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 statua,

which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.

O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!

Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.

Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold our Caesar's vesture wounded?

Look you here!

Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.

- O piteous spectacle!

- O noble Caesar!

Stay, countrymen.

Good friends, sweet friends.

Let me not stir you up to such a sudden flood of mutiny.

They that have done this deed are honourable.

What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, that made them do it.

They are wise and honourable, and will, no doubt, with reasons 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 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 Caesar'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 Caesar

that should move the stones of Rome to rise

and mutiny!

Yet hear me, countrymen! Yet hear me speak!

Why, friends, you go to do you know not what.

Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?

Alas, you know not!

I must tell you then.

You have forgot the will I told you of.

Here is the will,

and under Caesar's seal.

To every Roman citizen he gives, to every several man,

Moreover,

he hath left you all his walks,

his private arbours and new-planted orchards, on this side Tiber.

He hath left them you, and to your heirs for ever, common pleasures,

to walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.

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