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But, with an angry wafture of your hand,
Gave sign for me to leave you: So I did;
Fearing to strengthen that impatience,

Which seem'd too much enkindled; and withal,
Hoping that it was but an effect of humour,
Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep:
And, could it work so much upon your shape,
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition*,
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.

CALPHURNIA'S ADDRESS TO CÆSAR ON THE PRODIGIES
SEEN THE NIGHT BEFORE HIS DEATH.

Cal. Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies, Yet now they fright me. There is one within, Besides the things that we have heard and seen, Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. A lioness hath whelped in the streets;

And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead:
Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds,
In ranks, and squadrons, and right form of war,
Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol:
The noise of battle hurtled in the air,
Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan;
And ghosts did shriek, and squeal§ about the streets,
O Cæsar! these things are beyond all use,

And I do fear them.

Cæs.

What can be avoided,

Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods? Yet Cæsar shall go forth: for these predictions Are to the world in general, as to Cæsar.

Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; • Temper.

Encountered.

+ Never paid a regard to prodigies or omens. § Cry with pain.

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH.

Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once.

Of all the wonders that I

have heard, yet

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It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.

DANGER.

Danger knows full well

That Cæsar is more dangerous than he.
We were two lions litter'd in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible.

ENVY.

My heart laments that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation*.

ACT III.

ANTONY'S ADDRESS TO THE CORPSE OF Cæsar.

O mighty Cæsar! Dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure?-Fare thee well.

ANTONY'S SPEECH TO THE CONSPIRATORS. I 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 Cæsar's death's hour; nor no instrument Of half that worth, as those your swords, made rich * Envy. + Grown too high for the public safety.

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 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.

REVENGE.

Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side, come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice,
Cry Havoc*, and let slipt the dogs of war.

BRUTUS'S SPEECH TO THE people.

If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Cæsar'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 Cæsar were living, and die all slaves; than that Cæsar were dead, to live all free men? As Cæsar 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

*The signal for giving no quarter. + To let slip a dog at a deer, &c. was the technical phrase of Shakspeare's time.

his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended.

ANTONY'S FUNERAL ORATION.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Cæsar, 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 Cæsar. The noble Brutus Hath told you, Cæsar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault; And grievously hath Cæsar 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 Cæsar'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 Cæsar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Cæsar 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?

O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason!-Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the world: now lies he there,
And none so poor* to do him reverence.
O masters! if I were dispos'd 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 Cæsar,
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 Cæsar'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,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,

Unto their issue.

4 Cit. We'll hear the will: Read it, Mark Antony. Cit. The will, the will; we will hear Cæsar's will. Ant. Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;

It is not meet you know how Cæsar lov'd you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad:

* The meanest man is now too high to do reverence to Cæsar. + Handkerchiefs.

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