ANTONY

Caesar, my Lord. I shall remember, When Caesar says, Do this; it is performed. Caesar. Fear him not Caesar, he's not dangerous, He is a Noble Roman, and well given. So to most Noble Caesar. Oh 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 my self, there is no hour so fit As Caesars 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, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find my self 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. I doubt not of your Wisdom: Let each man render me his bloody hand. F rst Marcus Brutus will I shake with you; Next Caius Cassius do I take your hand; Now Decius Brutus yours; now yours Metellus ; Yours Cinna ; and my valiant Caska, 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 bade ways you must conceit me, Either a Coward, or a Flatterer. That I did love thee Caesar, Oh it's true: If then thy Spirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee dearer then thy death, To see thy Antony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes? Most Noble, in the presence of thy Coarse, Had I as many eyes, as thou hast wounds, Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, It would become me better, then to close In terms of Friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me Julius, here was't thou bayed brave Heart, Here didst thou fallen, and here thy Hunter's stand Signed in thy Spoil, and Crimsoned in thy Lethee. Oh World! thou wast the Forest to this Heart, And this indeed, Oh World, the Heart of thee. How Like a Dear, stroken by many Princes, Dost thou here lie? Pardon me Caius Cassius: The Enemies of Caesar, shall say this: Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modesty. Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed Swayed from the point, by looking down on Caesar. 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. That's all I seek, And am moreover suitor, that I may Produce his body to the Marketplace, And in the Pulpit as becomes a Friend, Speak in the Order of his Funeral. Be it so: I do desire no more. Caesar did write for him to come to Room. Thy heart is big: get thee apart and weep: Passion I see is catching from mine eyes, Seeing those Beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water. Is thy Master coming? Post back with speed, And tell him what hath chanced: Here is a mourning Room, a dangerous Room, No Room of safety for Octavius yet, High hence, and tell him so. Yet stay awhile, Thou shalt not back, till I have born this course Into the Market place: There shall I try In my Oration, how the People take The cruel issue of these bloody men, According to the which, thou shalt discourse To young Octavius, of the state of things. Lend me your hand. For Brutus sake, I am beholding to you. You gentle Roman. But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the World: Now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. Oh 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 my self and you, Then I will wrong such Honourable men, But here's a Parchment, with the Seal of Caesar, I found it in his Closet, it's 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 Caesars wounds. And dip their Napkins in his Sacred Blood; Yea, beg a hair of him for Memory, And dying, mention it within their Wills, Bequeathing it as a rich Legacy Unto their issue. 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, hearing the Will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad: It's good you know not that you are his Heirs, For if you should, Oh what would come of it? Will you be Patient? Will you stay awhile? I have overshot my self to tell you of it, I fear I wrong the Honourable men, Whose Daggers have stabbed Caesar: I do fear it. You will compel me then to read the Will: Then make a Ring about the Corpses of Caesar, And let me show you him that made the Will: Shall I descend? And will you give me leave? Nay press not so upon me, stand far off. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 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 rend the envious Caska made: Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabbed, And as he plucked his cursed Steel away: Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no: For Brutus, as you know, was Caesars Angel. Judge, Oh 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 then Traitors arms, Quite vanquished him: then burst his Mighty heart, And in his Mantle, muffling up his face, Even at the Base of Pompey's Statue (Which all the while ran blood) great Caesar fell. Oh what a fallen was there, my Countrymen? Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody Treason flourished over us. Oh now you weep, and I perceive you feel The dint of pity: These are gracious drops. Kind Souls, what weep you, when you but behold Our Caesars Vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is Himself, marred as you see with Traitors. 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 writ nor words, nor worth, Actium, nor Utterance, nor the power of Speech, To stir men's Blood. I only speak right on: I tell you that, which you your selves do know, Show you sweet Caesars wounds, poor poor dum mouths And bid them speak for me: But were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were and Antony Would ruffle up your Spirits, and put a Tongue In every Wound of Caesar, that should move The stones of Room, 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 forgotten the Will I told you of. Here is the Will, and under Caesars Seal: To every Roman Citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy five Drachmaes. Hear me with patience. 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 your selves. Here was a Caesar : when comes such another? Now let it work: Mischief thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt. How now Fellow? Where is he? And thither will I straight, to visit him: He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry, And in this mood will give us any thing. Belike they had some notice of the people How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. These many then shall die, their names are pricked He shall not live; look, with a spot I dam him. But Lepidus, go you to Caesars house: Fetch the Will hither, and we shall determine How to cut off some charge in Legacies. This is a slight meritable man, Meet to be sent on Errands: is it fit The threefold World divided, he should stand One of the three to share it? Octavius, I have seen more days then you, And though we lay these Honours on this man, To ease our selves of diverse slanderous loads, He shall but bear them, as the Ass bears Gold, To groan and sweated under the Business, Either led or driven, as we point the way: And having brought our Treasure, where we will, Then take we down his Load, and turn him off (Like to the empty Ass) to shake his ears, And graze in Commons. So is my Horse Octavius, and for that I do appoint him store of Provender. It is a Creature that I teach to fight, To wind, to stop, to run directly on: His corporal Motion, governed by my Spirit, And in some taste, is Lepidus but so: He must be taught, and trained, and bid go forth: A barren spirited Fellow; one that feeds On Objects, Arts, and Imitations. Which out of use, and stal'de by other men Begin his fashion. Do not talk of him, But as a property: and now Octavius, Listen great things. Brutus and Cassius Are levying Powers; We must straight make head: Therefore let our Alliance be combined. Our best Friends made, our means stretched, And let us presently go fit in Council, How covert matters may be best disclosed, And open Perils surest answered. Tut I am in their bosoms, and I know Wherefore they do it: They could be content To visit other places, and come down With fearful bravery: thinking by this face To fasten in our thoughts that they have Courage; But it's not so. Octavius, lead your Battle softly on Upon the left hand of the even Field. Why do you cross me in this exigent. Not stingless too. Villains: you did not so, when your vile daggers Hacked one another in the sides of Caesar: You showed your teethes Like Apes, And fawned Like Hounds, And bowed Like Bondmen, kissing Caesars feet; Whilst damned Caska, Like a Cur, behind Struck Caesar on the neck. Oh you Flatterers. Old Cassius still. Where is he? This is not Brutus friend, but I assure you, A prize no less in worth; keep this man safe, Give him all kindness. I had rather have Such men my Friends, then Enemies. Go on, And see where Brutus be alive or dead, And bring us word, unto Octavius Tent: How every thing is chanced. This was the Noblest Roman of them all: All the Conspirators save only he, Did that they did, in envy of great Caesar : He, only in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the Elements So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world; This was a man. Friends, Roman, 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 answered it. Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest (For Brutus is and Honourable man, So are they all; all Honourable m n) Come I to speak in Caesars Funeral. He was my Friend, faithful, and joust to me; But Brutus says; he was Ambitious, And Brutus is and Honourable man. He hath brought many Captives home to Room 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 and Honourable man. You all did see, that on the Lupercall, 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 and 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? Oh Judgement! thou are fled to brutish Beasts, And Men have lost their Reason. Bear with me, My heart is in the Coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause, till it come back to me. In your bade strokes Brutus, you give good words Witness the hold you made in Caesars heart, Crying long live, Hail Caesar. No Caesar, we will answer on their Charge. Make forth, the Generals would have some words.