2 Cit. They were villairs, murderers: The will! Read the will!
Ant. You will compel me then to read the will? Then make a ring about the corpse of Cesar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend? Ard will you give me leave? Cit. Come down.
2 Cit. Descend. [He comes down from the pulpit.
Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Cesar 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 Cesar follow'd it;
As rushing out of doors to be resolv'd
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Cesar's angel.
Judge, O you gods, how dearly Cesar loved him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all:
For when the noble Cesar 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 Cesar 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.f
O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel
The dint of pity: these are gracious trops.
Kind souls, what weep you, when you but behold
Our Cesar's vesture wounded? Look you here,
Here is himself, marr'd as you see with traitors.
1 Cil. O piteous spectacle!
* Statua, for statue, is common among the old writers.
† Was successful.
+ Impression.
2 Cit. We will be revenged: revenge; about,seek,―burn,—fire,—kill,-slay!-let not a traitor
Ant. 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 Cesar'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 Cesar, that should move
The stores of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Ever note, Lucilius,
When love begins to sicken and decay,
It useth an enforced ceremony.
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith:
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle:
But when they should endure the bloody spur,
They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades,
Sink in the trial.
THE TENT SCENE BETWEEN 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 letters, praying on his side,
Because I knew the man, were slighted off.
Bru. You wrong'd yourself, to write in such a case.
Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice* offence should bear his comment.
Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm,
To sell and mart your offices for gold,
Cas. I an itching palm? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. Cas. Chastisement!
Bru. Remember March, the ides of March re member!
Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?
What villain touch'd his body, that did stab,
And not for justice? What, shall one of us,
That struck the foremost man of all this world,
But for supporting robbers; shall we now,
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes?
And sell the mighty space of our large honours,
For so much trash, as may be grasped thus?-
I had rather be a dog, and bayt the moon,
Brutus, bay not me,
I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in;‡ I am a soldier, I
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.§
Go to; you're not, Cassius.
§ Terms, fit to confer the offices at my disposal.
Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further Bru. Away, slight man!
Bru.
Hear me, for I will speak.
Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
Cas. O ye gods! ye gods! Must I endure all this Bru. All this? ay, more: Fret, till your proud heart break;
Go, show your slaves how choleric you are,
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?
Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humour? By the gods,
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Though it do split you: for, from this day forth,
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.
Is it come to this? Bru. You say, you are a better soldier:
Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well: For mine own part,
I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
Cas. You wrong me every way, you wrong me,
Brutus:
I said, an elder soldier, not a better:
Cas. When Cesar liv'd, he durst not thus have
Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not thus have tempt
Cas. I durst not?
Bru. No.
Cas. What? durst not tempt him?
Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love,
I may do that I shall be sorry for.
Bru. You have done that should be sorry for There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats:
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me, as the idle wind,
Which I respect not. I did send to you
For certain sums of gold, which you denied me;
For I can raise no money by vile means:
By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas,* than to wring
From the hard bands of peasants their vile trash,
By any indirection. I did send
To you for gold to pay my legions,
Which you denied me: Was that done like Cassius!
Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thunder bolts,
Dash him to pieces!
I did not: he was but a fool, That brought my answer back.-Brutus hath riv'df my heart:
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Bru. I do not, till you practice them on me.
Cas. You love me not.
I do not like your faults. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.
Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is aweary of the world:
Hated by one he loves: brav'd by his brother:
Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observ'd,
Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep
My spirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast; within, a heart
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:
If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;
I, that deny'd thee gold, will give my heart:
* Coin.
+ Split.
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