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The multitude, beside themselves with fear;
And then we will deliver you the cause,
Why I, that did love Cæjar when I strook him,
Proceeded thus.
Ant. I doubt not of

your

wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand; First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you ; Next, Caius Caffius, do I take your hand; Now, Decius Brutus, yours; now yours, Metellus; Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; Tho' laft, 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, Cæjar, oh, '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 fait 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 ftand Sign'd in thy spoil, (25) and crimson'd in thy death. O world ! thou waft the forest to this hart, And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee.

(12) And crimfon'd in thy Death.) All the old Copies, that I have seen, read, Letbe. The Dictionaries, indeed, acknowledge no such Word : and as the L might have mistakingly been form'd from an obscure D, not taking the Ink equally in all Parts, I have suffer'd the more known Word to fand in the Text; tho', indeed, I am not without Suspicion of our Poet's having either coin'd the other Term, or copied it from some absolete Author, who had adopted it from the Letbum of the Latines ; which, 'tis well known, was used for Death, as well as Deftruction, Ruin, Havock, &c.

How

Will you

all ;

How like a deer, stricken by many Princes,
Dost thou here lie?

Caf. Mark Antony

Ant. Pardon me, Caius Cassius : The enemies of Cæfar fhall say this: Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.

Caf. I blame you not for praising Cefar fo, But what compact mean you to have with us?

be prick'd in number of our friends, Or shall we on, and not depend on you? Ant. Therefore I took

your

hands; but was, indeed,
Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Cæfar.
Friends am I with you all, and love you
Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons,
Why, and wherein Cæfar was dangerous.

Bru. Or else this were a favage spectacle.
Our reasons are so full of good regard,
That were you, Antony, the Son of Cæsar,
You should be fatisfied.

Ant. 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.

Bru. You shall, Mark Antony.

Caf. Brutus, a word with you.
You know not what you do; do not consent, [Afide.
That Antony speak in his funeral :
Know you, how much the People may be mov'd
By that which he will utter ?

Bru. By your pardon,
I will myself into the Pulpit first,
And shew the reason of our Casar's death.
What Antony shall speak, I will protest
He speaks by leave, and by permission ;
And that we are contented, Cæfar shall
Have all due rites, and lawful ceremonies :
It shall advantage more, than do us wrong.

Cal. I know not what may fall, I like it not.
Bru. Mark Antony, here, take you Cafar's body:

Yon

You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
But speak all good you can devise of Cajar;
And say, you do’t by our permission:
Ele 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.

Ant. Be it so ;
I do desire no more.
Bru. Prepare the body then, and follow us.

[Exeunt Conspirators

Manet Antony. Ant. 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 prophefy, (Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue) A curse shali light upon the limbs of men; Domestick fury, and fierce civil ftrife, 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 by the hands of war : All pity choakd with custom of fell deeds; And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge, With Até by his fide 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.

Enter Octavius's Servant.
You ferve Ostavius Cæfar, do you not ?

Serv. I do, Mark Antony.
Ant. Cafar did write for him to come to Rome.

Serv. He did receive his letters, and is coming ;
And bid me say to you by word of mouth-
O Cæfar!

[Seeing the Body.
Ant. Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep;
Passion I fee is catching; for mine eyes,
Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,
Began to water. Is thy master coming ?

Serv. He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. Ant. Poft back with speed, and tell him what hath

chanc'd. Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, No Rome of safety for Oclavius yet; Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet stay a while; Thou shalt not back, 'till I have borne this corse Into the market-place: there shall I try In my Oration, how the people take The cruel ifie of these bloody men ; According to the which, thou shalt discourse To young O&avius of the state of things. Lend me your hand. [Exeunt with Cæsar's body.

SCENE changes to the Forum.
Enter Brutus, and mounts the Roftra ; Caffius, with the

Plebeians.
Pleb. YE will be satisfied ; let us be satisfied.

Bru. Then follow me, and give me audi

ence, friends.

Cafus, go you into the other street,
And part the numbers :
Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here;
Those, that will follow Calius, go with him;
And publick reasons shall be rendered
Of Caefar's death.

i Pleb. I will hear Brutus speak.

2. Pleb. I will hear Caffius, and compare their reasons, When sev'rally we hear them rendered

[Erit Caffius, with fone of the Plebeians. 3

Pleb. The noble Brutus is ascended : filence! Pru. Be patient 'till the last.

Romans,

Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers! hear me for my cause; and be filent, that you may hear. 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 Cæsar's, to him I say, that Brutus's love to Cafar was no less than his. If then that friend demand, why Brutus rose against Cæfar, this is my Answer: Not that I lov'd Cafar less, but that I lovd Rome more. Had

you rather Cafar were living, and dye all saves ; than that Cæfar were dead, to live all free men ? As Cæfar lov'd 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 flew him. There are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honour for his valour, and death for his ambition. Who's here so base, that would be a bond-man? 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 fo vile, that will not love his Country ? if any, speak; for him have I offended

-I pause for a Reply

All. None, Brutus, none.

Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæfar, than you shall do to Brutus, The question of his death is inrolld in the Capicol ; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforc'd, for which he suffered death.

Enter Mark Antony with Cæsar's body. Here comes his body, mourn’d by Mark Antony ; who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the bear nefit of his dying, a place in the Commonwealth ; as which of you shall not? With this I depart, that as I. flew my

best lover for the good of Rome; I have the fame dagger for myself, when it shall please my Country to need my death.

All. Live, Brutus, live! live! i Plet. Bring him with triumph home unto his house.

2 Plebs

Vol. VII.

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