Cassius.

Pardon, Cesar; Cæsar, pardon : As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. Cæsar.

I could be well mov'd, if I were as you ; If I could pray to move, prayers would move me; But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true, fix'd, and resting quality, There is no fellow in the firmament. The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, They are all fire, and every one doth shine; But there's but one in all doth hold his place: So, in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men, And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; Yet in the number I do know but one That unassailable holds on his rank, Unshak'd of motion: and, that I am he, Let me a little show it, even in this,

That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, And constant do remain to keep him so.

Cinna.

Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. Metellus.

Stand fast together, lest some friend of Cæsar's Should chance

Brutus.

Talk not of standing.- Publius, good cheer: There is no harm intended to your person, Nor to no Roman else; so tell them, Publius. Cassius.

And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.

Brutus.

Do so:-and let no man abide this deed, But we, the doers.

Re-enter Trebonius.

Where's Antony?

Cassius.

Trebonius.

Fled to his house amaz'd. Men, wives, and children, stare, cry out, and As it were doomsday.

Brutus.

[run,

Fates, we will know your pleasures.That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon. Casca. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life, Cuts off so many years of fearing death. Brutus.

Grant that, and then is death a benefit: So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridg'd His time of fearing death.-Stoop, Romans, stoop,

And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords; Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, Let's all cry, Peace! Freedom! and Liberty! Cassius.

Stoop then, and wash.-How many ages hence, Shall this our lofty scene be acted over, In states unborn, and accents yet unknown? Brutus.

How many times shall Cæsar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey's basis lies along, No worthier than the dust?

Cassius.

So oft as that shall be, So often shall the knot of us be call'd The men that gave their country liberty. Decius. What shall we forth? Cassius.

Ay, every man away: Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. Enter a Servant. Brutus.

Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's.

Servant.

Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel; Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down, And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say. Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; Cæsar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him; Say, I fear'd Cæsar, honour'd him, and lov'd If Brutus will vouchsafe, that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolv'd

[him.

How

How Cæsar hath deserv'd to lie in death,
Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar dead
So well as Brutus living; but will follow
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus,
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state,
With all true faith. So says my master Antony.

Brutus.

Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman : I never thought him worse.

Tell him, so please him come unto this place, He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, Depart untouch'd.

Servant.

I'll fetch him presently. [Exit Servant.

Brutus.

I know, that we shall have him well to friend. Cassius.

I wish, we may; but yet have I a mind, That fears him much, and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

Re-enter Antony.

Brutus.

Now, Decius Brutus, yours;—now yours, Metellus ;

Yours, Cinna;-and, my valiant Casca, yours;Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius.

Gentlemen all,-alas! what shall I say?

My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,
Either a coward, or a flatterer.—

That I did love thee, Cæsar, O! 'tis true:
If, then, thy spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy death,
To see thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
Most noble in the presence of thy corse?
Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better, than to close
In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd,
brave hart;

Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters

stand,

Antony.

O mighty Cæsar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee wellI 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's 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, [smoke,
Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and
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 Cæsar, and by you cut off,
The choice and master spirits of this age.
Brutus.

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;
And pity to the general wrong of Rome
(As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity)
Hath done this deed on Cæsar. For your part,
To you our swords have leaden points, Mark
Antony:

Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts,
Of brothers' temper, do receive you in
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Casslus.

Your voice shall be as strong as any man's, In the disposing of new dignities.

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 mov'd By that which he will utter?

Brutus.

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, Casar shall Have all true rites, and lawful ceremonies. It shall advantage more, than do us wrong. Cassius.

Prepare the body, then, and follow us. [Exeunt all but Antony. Antony.

[lips,

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,
(Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue)
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,
All pity chok'd with custom of fell deeds;
And Cesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Até by his side, come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice,
Cry, "Havock!" and let slip the dogs of war,
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.

Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear: be. lieve 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 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 Caesar were living, and die all slaves, than that Cæsar 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.

All. None, Brutus, none.

Brutus.

Then, none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæsar, than you shall 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.

Enter Antony and others, with Cæsar's Body. 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.

All.

Live, Brutus! live! live!

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