 | The Tragedy of Julius Caesar |  |
ACT III.
Enter Soothsayer, reading a Paper.Sooth.
“ Cæsar , beware of Brutus, take heed of Cassius,
“Come not near Caska; have an Eye to Cinna,
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“Decius Brutus loves thee not—Thou hast
“Wrong'd Caius Ligarius—There is but one Mind
“In all these Men, and it is bent against Cæsar.
“If thou bee'st not Immortal, look about thee,
“Security gives way to Conspiracy—The mighty
“Gods defend thee—Thy Lover, Artemidorus.
Here will I stand, till Cæsar pass along,
And as a Suitor will I give him this.
My Heart laments, that Virtue cannot live
Out of the Teeth of Emulation.
If thou read this, O Cæsar, thou may'st live,
If not, the Fates with Traytors do contrive.
[Exit.
Enter Portia, and Lucius.
Port.
I prithee Boy, run to the Senate-House,
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone,
Why dost thou stay?
Luc.
To know my Errand, Madam.
Port.
I wou'd have had thee there, and here agen,
E're I can tell thee what thou should'st do there:
O Constancy, be strong upon my Side,
Set a huge Mountain 'tween my Heart and Tongue,
I have a Man's Mind, but a Woman's Might;
How hard it is for Women to keep Counsel.
Art thou here yet?
Luc.
Madam, what shou'd I do;
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else;
And so return to you, and nothing else.
Port.
Yes, bring me Word (Boy) if thy Lord looks well,
For he went sickly forth; and take good note,
What Cæsar doth, what Suitors press to him.
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Luc.
I hear none Madam.
Port.
Prithee listen well.
I hear a bustling Rumour, like a Fray,
And the Wind brings it from the Capitol.
Luc.
Indeed Madam, I hear nothing.
Enter Soothsayer.
Port.
Come hither Fellow, Which way hast thou been?
Sooth.
At my own House, good Lady:
Port.
What is't a Clock?
Sooth.
About the ninth Hour, Lady.
Port.
Is Cæsar yet gone to the Capitol.
Sooth.
Madam, not yet—I go to take my Stand
To see him pass on to the Capitol.
Port.
Thou hast some Suit to Cæsar, hast thou not?
Sooth.
That I have Lady, if it will please Cæsar
To be so good to Cæsar, as to hear me;
I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
Port.
Why, know'st thou any harm's towards him?
Sooth.
None that I know will be,
Much that I fear may chance.
Good-morrow to you. Here the Street is narrow,
The Throng that follows Cæsar at the Heels,
Of Senators, of Prætors, common Suitors,
Will crowd a feeble Man almost to Death.
I'll get me to a Place more void, and there
Speak to Great Cæsar as he comes along.
[Exit.
Port.
I must go in;
Ay me! How weak a thing
The Heart of Woman is! O Brutus!
The Heav'ns speed thee in thine Enterprize.
Sure the Boy heard me—Brutus hath a Suit
That Cæsar will not grant: O I grow faint!
Run Lucius, and commend me to my Lord,
Say I am merry, Come to me agen,
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[Exeunt.
Enter Cæsar, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Metellus, Trebonious, Cinna, Anthony, Lepidus, Publius, and Soothsayer.
Cæs.
The Ides of March are come.
Sooth.
Ay Cæsar, but not gone.
Hail Cæsar, read this Schedule.
Deci.
Trebonius doth desire you to o're-read
At your best Leisure, this his humble Suit.
Sooth.
O Cæsar, read mine first—for mine's a Suit.
That touches Cæsar nearer—: Read it Great Cæsar.
Cæs.
What touches us, our self shall be last serv'd.
Sooth.
Delay not Cæsar; read it instantly.
Cæs.
What is the Fellow mad.
Cassi.
What, urge you your Petitions in the
Street, come to the Capitol.
Enter Popilius Lena.
Pop.
I wish your Enterprize to Day may thrive.
Cassi.
What Enterprize, Popilius?
Pop.
Fare you well.
Brut.
What said Popilius Lena?
Cassi.
He wish'd to Day our Enterprize might thrive,
I fear our Purpose is discover'd.
Brut.
Look how he makes to Cæsar—mark him.
Cassi.
Caska be sudden, for we fear Prevention.
Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,
Cassius or Cæsar never shall turn back,
For I will slay my self.
Brut.
Cassius be constant;
Popilius Lena speaks not of our Purpose,
For look he smiles, and Cæsar doth not change.
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Cassi.
Trebonius knows his time—for look you Brutus,
He draws Mark Anthony out of the way.
Deci.
Where is Metellus Cymber? Let him go,
And first prefer his Suit to Cæsar.
Brut.
He is address'd—press near, and second him.
Cin.
Caska, you are the first that rears your Hand:
Cæs.
Are we all ready? What is now amiss
That Cæsar and his Senate must redress.
Met.
Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Cæsar,
Metellus Cymber throws before your Seat
An humble Heart.
Cæs.
I must prevent thee, Cymber:
These Crouchings, and these lowly Courtesies
Might fire the Blood of ordinary Men,
And turn pre-ordinance, and first decree
Into the Lane of Children—be not fond
To think that Cæsar bears such rebel Blood
That will be thaw'd from the true Quality
With that which melteth Fools, I mean, Sweet Words,
Low crooked Courtesies, and base Spaniel fawning:
Thy Brother, by Decree is banish'd:
If thou dost bend and pray, and fawn for him,
I spurn thee, like a Curr, out of my way,
Know, Cæsar doth no Wrong, nor without Cause,
Will he be satisfy'd.
Met.
Is there no Voice more worthy than my own,
To sound more sweetly in Great Cæsar's Ear.
For the repealing of my banish'd Brother.
Brut.
I kiss thy Hand, but not in Flattery Cæsar,
Desiring thee, that Publius Cymber may
37
Cæs.
What, Brutus!
Cassi.
Pardon Cæsar; Cæsar Pardon!
As low as to thy Feet doth Cassius fall,
To beg Enfranchisement for Publius Cymber.
Cæs.
I could be well mov'd if I were as you,
If I cou'd pray to move, Prayers wou'd move me;
But I am constant as the Northern Star,
Of whose true Fixt, 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 Course,
Unshak'd of Motion; and that one am I
Let me a little shew it, ev'n in this:
That I was constant Cymber shou'd be banish'd,
And constant do remain to keep him so:
Cin.
O Cæsar!
Cæs.
Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Deci.
Great Cæsar!
Cæs.
Doth not Brutus bootless kneel—
Cask.
Speak Hands for me!
[Stabs him
Cæs.
Et tue Brute! Then falls Cæsar—
[dies
Cassi.
Some to the common Pulpit, and cry out
Liberty, Freedom, and Enfranchisement—
Brut.
People and Senators, be not affrighted;
Fly not, stand still—Ambition's Debt is paid—
Cask.
Go to the Pulpit Brutus—
Deci.
And Caissus too:
Brut.
Where's Publius?
Cin.
Here, quite confounded with this Mutiny—
Brut.
Publius, Good Cheer,
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Nor to any Roman else—So tell them Publius.
Cassi.
And leave us Publius.
Brut.
Do so, good Brutus, and let no Man abide this Deed,
But we the Doers—
Enter Trebonius.
Cassi.
Where is Anthony?
Treb.
Fled to his House amaz'd;
Men, Wives, and Children, stare, cry out, and run,
As it were Doom's-day.
Brut,
Fates, we will know your Pleasures;
That we shall dye we know, 'tis but the time
And drawing Days out, that Men stand upon.
Cask.
Why he that cuts off twenty Years of Life,
Cuts off so many Years of fearing Death—
Brut.
Grant that, and then is Death a Benefit.
So are we Cæsar's Friends, that have abridg'd
His time of fearing Death—Stoop Romans, stoop,
And let us bathe our Hands in Cæsar's Blood,
And all besmear our Swords,
Then walk we forth, ev'n to the Market-place,
And waving our red Weapons o're our Heads,
Let's all cry Peace, Freedom, and Liberty.
Cassi.
How many Ages hence
Shall this our lofty Scene be acted over
In States unborn, and Accents yet unknown.
Brut.
So many times shall Cæsar bleed in Sport!
That now on Pompey's Basis lies along,
No worthier than the Dust.
Cassi.
So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the Knot of us be call'd
The Men that gave their Country Liberty.
Deci.
What, shall we forth?
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Ay, ev'ry Man away—
Brutus shall lead, and we will grace his Heels
With the most boldest, and best Hearts of Rome.
Enter Servant.
Brut.
Soft, who comes here? A Servant of Anthony's.
Serv.
Thus Brutus, did my Master bid me kneel,
Thus did Mark Anthony bid me fall down,
And being prostrate, thus he bad 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 him.
If Brutus will vouchsafe, that Anthony
May safely come to him, and be resolv'd,
How Cæsar hath deserv'd to lye in Death,
Mark Anthony shall not love Cæsar dead
So well as Brutus living—But will follow
The Fortunes and Affairs of noble Brutus,
Thro' all the Hazards of this untrod State
With all true Faith—So says my Master Anthony.
Brut.
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 satisfy'd; and by my Honour
Depart untouch'd,
Serv.
I'll fetch him presently.
[Exit.
Brut.
I know that we shall have him well to Friend.
Cassi.
I wish we may: But yet I have a Mind
That fears him much; and my misgiving still
Falls shrewdly to the Purpose—
Enter Anthony.
Brut.
But here comes Anthony.
40
Anth.
O mighty Cæsar! Dost thou lye 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?
If I my self, 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,
With the most noble Blood of all this World.
I do beseech you, if you bear me hard,
Now, whilst your purpl'd Hands do reak and smoak,
Fulfil your Pleasure; live a thousand Years,
I shall not find my self so apt to die.
No Place will please me so, no Mein of Death,
As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off,
The Choice and Master Spirits of the Age.
Brut.
O Anthony, beg not your Death of us:
Tho' now we must appear bloody and cruel,
As by our Hands, and this our present Act
We seem to do—Yet see you but our Hands,
Our Hearts you see not, they are pitiful.
And pity to the general wrong of Rome,
Hath done this Deed on Cæsar—For your part,
To you, our Swords have Leaden Points, Mark Anthony,
And our Hearts
Of Brother's Temper, do receive you in
With all kind Love, good Thoughts, and Reverence.
Cassi.
Your Voice shall be as strong as any Man's
In the disposing of new Dignities.
Brut.
Only be patient, till we have appeas'd
The Multitude, besides themselves will fear,
And then we will deliver you the Cause,
Why I, that did love Cæsar when I struck him,
Have thus proceeded—
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I doubt not of your Wisdom;
Let each Man render me his bloody Hand.
First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you:
Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your Hand,
Now Decius Brutus, yours, now yours Mettellus:
Yours Cinna, and my valiant Caska, yours.
Tho' last, not least in Love, yours, good Trebonius
Gentleman 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 once, Cæsar, 'tis true,
If then thy Spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy Death,
To see thy Anthony making his Peace,
Shaking the bloody Fingers of thy Foes—
Had I as many Eyes as thou hast Wounds,
Weeping as fast as they Stream forth thy Blood
It wou'd become me better, than to close
In Terms of Friendship with thy Enemies.
Pardon me, Julius, here wast thou bay'd, brave Heart;
Here didst thou fall, and here thy Hunters stand,
Sign'd in thy Spoil, and crimson'd in thy Lethe.
O World, thou wast the Forest to this Hart,
And this indeed, O World, the Heat of thee.
How, like a Deer, strucken by many Princes,
Dost thou here lye.
Cassi.
Mark Anthony.
Anth.
Pardon me, Caius Cassius;
The Enemies of Cæsar shall say this:
Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modesty—
Cassi.
I blame you not for praising Cæsar so,
But what Compact mean you to have with us?
Will you be prick'd in Number of our Friends,
Or shall we on, and not depend on you.
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Therefore I took your Hands, but was indeed
Sway'd from the Point, by looking down on Cæsar:
Friends am I with you all, and love you all,
Upon this Hope, that you shall give me Reasons
Why, and wherein, Cæsar was dangerous.
Brut.
Or else were this a savage Spectacle;
Our Reasons are so full of good Regard,
That were you, Anthony, the Son of Cæsar,
You shou'd be satisfy'd.
Anth.
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.—
Brut.
You shall, Mark Anthony.
Cassi.
Brutus, a Word with you.
You know not what you do; do not consent
That Anthony speak in his Funeral,
Know you how much the People may be mov'd
By that which he will utter.
Brut.
By your pardon,
I will my self into the Pulpit first,
And shew the Reason of our Cæsar's Death—
What Anthony shall I speak, I will protest
He speaks by leave, and by permission;
And that we are contented Cæsar shall
Have all true Rites, and lawful Ceremonies:
It shall advantage more, than do us wrong—
Cassi.
I know not what may fall, I like it not.
Brut.
Mark Anthony.—Here, take you Cæsar's Body;
You shall not in your Funeral Speech blame us,
But speak all good you can devise of Cæsar,
And say you do't by our Permission—
Else shall you not have any Hand at all
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In the same Pulpit whereto I am going,
After my Speech is ended.
Anth.
Be it so,
I do desire no more.
Brut.
Prepare the Body then, and follow us.
[Exit all but Anthony.
Anth.
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 Prophecy,
(Which like dumb Mouths, do ope their ruby Lips
To beg the Voice and Utterance of my Tongue.)
A Curse shall light upon the Limbs of Men,
Domestick 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.
That this foul Deed, shall Smell above the Earth.
With Carrion Men, groaning for Burial—
Enter Servant.
You serve Octavius Cæsar, do you not?
Serv.
I do, Mark Anthony—
Anth.
Cæsar did write from him to come to Rome.
Serv.
He did receive his Letter, and is coming.
And bid me say to you by Word of Mouth,—
O Cæsar.
Anth.
Thy Heart is big—Get thee a part and weep,
Passion I see is catching from mine Eyes,
Seeing those Beads of Sorrow stand in thine;
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Serv.
He lies to Night within seven Leagues of Rome.
Anth.
Post back with speed,
And tell him what hath chanc'd;
Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
No place of safety for Octavius yet,
Hye hence, and tell him so.—Yet stay a while,
Thou shalt not back, till I have born this Body
To the Market-Place—There shall I try
In my Oration, how the People take
The cruel Issue of these bloody Men—
Acccording to the which, thou shalt discourse
To young Octavius of the State of things.
Take up the Body—
[Exeunt.
Enter Brutus, Cassius, and Mob.
Mob.
We will be satisfy'd, let us be satisfy'd.
Brut.
Then follow me, and give me Audience, Friends;
Cassius, go you into the other Street,
And part the Numbers—
Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here,
Those that will follow Cassius, go with him,
And publick Reasons shall be rendred
Of Cæsar's Death—
1.
I will hear Brutus speak.
2.
I will hear Cassius, and compare their Reasons,
When severally we hear them rendred
3.
The noble Brutus is ascended. Silence.
Brut.
Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers, hear me for my
Cause, and be silent, that you may hear—believe
Me for mine Honour, and have respect to my Honour,
That you may believe—Censure me in your
Wisdom, and awake your Senses, that you may
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Any dear Friends 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 lov'd
Cæsar less, but that I lov'd Rome more—Had you
Rather Cæsar were living and dye Slaves, than
That Cæsar were dead, to live all Freemen—
As Cæsar lov'd me, I weep for him, as he
Was fortunate, I rejoyce 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 have 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—
Omn.
None, Brutus, none.
Brut.
Then none have I offended—I have done no
More to Cæsar, than you shall do to Brutus.
The Question of his Death, is Enroll'd in the
Capitol—His Glory not extenuated, wherein
He was worthy—Nor his Offences enforc'd,
For which he suffer'd Death—
Here comes his Body, mourn'd by Mark Anthony, who
Tho' he had no Hand in his Death, shall receive
The Benefit of his dying, a Place in the Common
Wealth—As which if 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 my self,
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Omn.
Live Brutus, live, live.
1.
Bring him with Triumph home unto his House.
2.
Give him a Statue with his Ancestors.
3.
Let him be Cæsar.
4.
Cæsar's better parts,
Shall be crown'd in Brutus.
1.
We'll bring him to his House,
With Shouts and Clamours!
Brut.
My Countrymen!
2.
Peace, Silence, Brutus speaks.
1.
Peace, ho!
Brut.
Good Countrymen, let me depart alone,
And, for my sake, stay here with Anthony.
Do grace to Cæsar's Corps, and grace his Speech,
Tending to Cæsar's Glories, which Mark Anthony
By our Permission, is allow'd to make.
I do entreat you not a Man depart,
Save I alone, till Anthony have spoke.
[Exit.
Enter Anthony, with Cæsar's Body.
1.
Stay ho, and let us hear Mark Anthony.
3.
Let him go up into the publick Chair.
We'll hear him—Noble Anthony go up.
Anth.
For Brutus sake, I am beholding to you:
4.
What does he say of Brutus?
3.
He says for Brutus sake, He is
He finds himself beholding to us all.
4.
'Twere best he spake no harm of Brutus here.
1.
This Cæsar was a Tyrant.
3.
Nay, that's certain,
We are blest that Rome is rid of him.
2.
Peace let us hear what Anthony can say.
Omn.
Peace ho, let's hear him—
Anth.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your Ears,
I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
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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 has 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 Ransom did the general Coffers fill.
Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?
When that the Poor have cry'd, Cæsar hath wept,
Ambition shou'd 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 with-holds you then, to mourn for him?
O Judgment! Thou art fled to brutish Beasts,
And Men have lost their Reasons—Bear with me,
My Heart is in the Coffin there with Cæsar,
And I must pause, till it come back to me—
1.
Methinks there is much Reason in his Sayings.
2.
If thou consider rightly of the Matter,
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3.
Has he Master's! I fear there will a Worse
come in his place.
4.
Mark'd you his Words? he wou'd not take the Crown,
Therefore 'tis certain, he was not ambigious.
1.
If it be found, some will dear abide it
2.
Poor Soul, his Eyes are red as Fire with weeping.
3.
There's not a nobler Man in Rome than Anthony.
4.
Now mark him, he begins agen to speak.
Anth.
But Yesterday, the Word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the World—Now lies he there
And none so proper 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 hononurable Men,
I will not do them Wrong: I rather chuse
To wrong the Dead, to wrong my self, 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.
We'll hear the Will—read it, Mark Anthony.
Omn.
The Will, the Will—We will hear Cæsar's Will.
Anth.
Have Patience, gentle Friends, I must not read it.
It is not meet, you know how Cæsar lov'd you.
49
And being Men, hearing the Will of Cæsar,
It will enflame you, it will make you mad;
'Tis good you know not that you are his Heirs,
For if you shou'd, O what will come of it?
4.
Read the Will, we'll hear it, Anthony,
You shall read us the Will; Cæsar's Will.
Anth.
Will you be patient? Will you stay a while.
I have o'reshot my self to tell you of it,
I fear I wrong the honourable Men,
Whose Daggers have stabb'd Cæsar—I do fear it.
4.
They were Traytors—Honourable Men!
2.
They were Villains, Murderers—The Will, read the Will.
Anth.
You will compel me then to read the Will—
Then make a Ring about the Corps of Cæsar,
And let me shew you him that made the Will.
Shall I descend—And will you give me Leave?
Omn.
Come down.
2.
Descend.
3.
You shall have Leave.
4.
A Ring, Stand round.
1.
Stand from the Hearse—Stand from the Body.
2.
Room for Anthony, Most noble Anthony.
Anth.
Nay, press not so upon me—Stand far off.
Omn.
Stand back—Room, bear back.
Anth.
If you have Tears, prepare to shed 'em now,
You all do know this Mantle—I remember
The first time Cæsar ever put it on,
'Twas on a Summer's Evening, in his Tent,
That Day he overcame the Nervii.
Look, in this place run Cassius Dagger thro'
See what a Rent the envious Caska made.
Thro' this, the Well-beloved Brutus Stabb'd,
And as he pluck'd his cursed Steel away,
50
As rushing out of Doors, to be resolv'd
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd or no:
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsars Angel.
Judge, O ye Gods! how dearly Cæsar lov'd him.
This was the most unkindest Cut of all,
For when the noble Cæsar saw him Stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than Traytors Arms,
Quite Vanquish'd him: Then burst his mighty Heart,
And in his Mantle, muffling up his Face,
Ev'n at the Base of Pompey's Statute
(Which all the while ran Blood) Great Cæsar 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.
O! 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 Cæsar's Vesture wounded? Look you here,
Here is himself, marr'd as you see with Traytors.
1.
O piteous Spectacle!
2.
O noble Cæsar!
3.
O woful Day!
4.
O Traytors! Villains!
1.
O most bloody Sight!
2.
We will be Reveng'd: Revenge,
About, Seek, Burn, Fire, Kill, Slay,
Let not a Traytor Live.
Ant.
Stay Countrymen!
1.
Peace there—Hear the noble Anthony.
2.
We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll dye with him.
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, alass I know not,
That made 'em do it—They are wise & honourable
51
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 publick leave to speak of him.
But I have neither Wit, nor Words, nor Worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of Speech,
To stir Mens Bloods—I only speak right on,
I tell you that, which you your selves do know,
Shew you sweet Cæsars Wounds, poor, poor, dumb
Mouths—
And bid them speak for me—But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Anthony, there were an Anthony
Wou'd ruffle up your Spirits, and put a Tongue
In ev'ry Wound of Cæsar—That shou'd mov'd
The Stones of Rome to rise and Mutiny.
All.
We'll Mutiny.
1.
Well Burn the House of Brutus.
3.
Away then, come, seek the Conspirators.
Ant.
Yet hear me Countrymen, yet hear me speak
All.
Peace ho, hear Anthony most noble Anthony.
Ant.
Why Friends: you go to do I know not what
Wherein hath Cæsar thus deserv'd your Loves?
Alass you know not, I must tell you then:
You have forgot the Will I told you off.
All.
Most true, the Will—let's stay and hear the Will.
Ant.
Here is the Will, and under Cæsar's Seal.
To ev'ry Roman Citizen he gives,
To ev'ry several Man, seventy five Drachma's.
2.
Most noble Cæsar—We'll revenge his Death
3.
O Royal Cæsar!
Ant.
Hear me with Patience.
All.
Peace ho.
Ant.
Moreover he hath left you all his Walks,
His private Arbors, and new planted Orchards.
52
And to your Heirs for ever—Common Pleasures
To walk abroad, and recreate your selves.
Here was a Cæsar—When comes such another.
4.
Never, never, come, away, away,
We'll burn his Body in the holy Place,
And with the brands fire the Traytor's Houses.
Take up the Body. Huzza.
[Exeunt.
Ant.
Now let it work, mischief, thou art a'foot
Take thou what Course thou wilt.
Enter Servant.
How now Fellow.
Serv.
Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
Ant.
Where is he?
Serv.
He and Lepidus are at Cæsars House.
Ant.
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.
Serv.
I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius,
Are rid like Madmen, thro' the Gates of Rome.
Ant.
Belike they had some notice of the People
How I had mov'd 'em—bring me to Octavius.
[Exeunt.
| The Tragedy of Julius Caesar | |