It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor fleep;
And, could it work fo much upon your shape,
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
I fhould not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
Calpburnia to Cafar, on the Prodigies feen the
Night before his Death.

Cal. I never stood on ceremonies,

Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
Befides the things that we have heard and feen,
Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.
A lionefs hath whelped in the ftreets;
And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead:
Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds,
In ranks, and fquadrons, and right form of war,
Which drizzled blood upon the capitol :
The noife of battle hurtled in the air;
Horfes did neigh, and dying men did groan;
And ghosts did fhriek, and fqueal about the ftreets.
O Cæfar! these things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them.

Cefar. What can be avoided,

Whofe end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet Cæfar fhall go forth for thefe predictions
Are to the world in general, as to Cæfar.
Cal. When beggars die there are no comets feen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of
princes.

Against the Fears of Death.
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never tafte of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange, that men fhould fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come, when it will come.

With Até by his fide, come hot from hell,
Shall in thefe confines, with a monarch's voice,
Cry," "Havoc !" and let flip the dogs of war.

Antony's Funeral Oration.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your

ears;

I am come to bury Cæfar, 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 Cæfar! The noble Brutus
Hath told you Cafar was ambitious:
If it were fo, it was a grievous fault;
And grieroufly hath Cæfar anfwer'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 fpeak in Cætar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whofe ranfoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Cæfar feem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Cæfar hath wept ;
Ambition fhould be made of fterner ftuff:
Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did fee, that, on the Lupercal,
I thrice prefented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refufe. Was this ambitious?
Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious;
And, fure, he is an honourable man.
I fpeak not to difprove what Brutus fpoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause ;
What caufe with-holds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beafts,
And men have loft their reafon !-Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæfar,
And I muft pause till it come back to me.

But yesterday the word of Cæfar might
Have ftood against the world: now lies he there,
And none fo poor to do him reverence.
O mafters! if I were difpos'd to ftir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Caffius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men :
I will not do them wrong; I rather chufe
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I will wrong fuch honourable men.
But here's a parchment with the feal of Cæfar;
I found it in his clofet, 'tis his will;
Let but the commons hear this teftament
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read),
And they would go and kifs dead Cæfar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his facred blood;
Yea, beg a hair of him, for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,
Unto their iffue.

4

Pleb. We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.

All. The will, the will; we will hear Cæfar's will.

I

Ant

read it;

It is not meet you know how Cæfar lov'd you.
You are not wood, you are not ftones, but men ;
And, being men, hearing the will of Cæfar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ;
For if you should-O, what would come of it!
4 Pleb. Read the will; we will hear it, Antony:
You fhall read us the will; Cæfar's will.

Ant. Will you be patient? will you stay awhile
I have o'erfhot myfelf, to tell you of it.
I fear, I wrong the honourable men
Whofe daggers have ftabb'd Cæfar-I do fear it.
4 Pleb. They were traitors :-honourable men!
All. The will! the teftament!

Ant. You will compel me then to read the will Then make a ring about the corpfe of Cæfar, And let me fhew you him that made the will. Shall I defcend? and will you give me leave? All. Come down.

You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Cæfar put it on; 'Twas on a fummer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii :Look! in this place ran Caffius'dagger through:See what a rent the envious Cafca made:Through this, the well-beloved Brutus ftabb'd; And, as he pluck'd his curfed fteel away, Mark how the blood of Cæfar follow'd it ; As rufhing out of doors, to be refolv'd If Brutus fo unkindly knock'd, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Cæfar's angel: Judge, O you Gods, how dearly Cæfar lov'd him! This was the most unkindeft cut of all: For, when the noble Cæfar faw him ftab, Ingratitude, more ftrong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burft his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's ftatue, Which all the while ran blood, great Cæfar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilft bloody treafon flourish'd over us. O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity; thefe are gracious drops. Kind fouls! what, weep you when you but behold Our Cæfar's vefture wounded? look you here! Here is himself, marr'd, as you fee, with traitors. 1 Pleb. O piteous fpectacle!.

2 Pleb. We will be reveng'd: revenge; About-feek-burn-fire-kill-flay! let not traitor live.

a

Ant. Good friends, fweet friends, let me not

ftir you up To fuch a fudden 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 wife, and ho. nourable,

And will, no doubt, with reafons anfwer you.

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 give me public leave to speak of him.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, or utterance, nor the power of speech,
To ftir men's blood; I only fpeak right on;
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Shew you fweet Cafar'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 fpirits, and put a tongue
In ev'ry wound of Cæfar, that should move
The ftones of Rome to rife and mutiny.

You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella,
For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letters praying on his fide,
Because I knew the man, were flighted of. [cafe.
Bru. You wrong'd yourself, to write în fuch a
Caf. In fuch a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence fhould bear his comment.
Bru. Let me tell you, Caffius, you yourself
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;
To fell and mart your offices for gold
To undefervers.

Caf. I an itching palm ?

You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the Gods, this fpeech were else your last. Bru. The name of Caffius honours this cor

ruption,

And chaftifement doth therefore hide his head. Caf. Chaftifement!

Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember!

Did not great Julius bleed for juftice' fake?
What villain touch'd his body, that did ftab,
And not for juftice? What! fhall one of us,
That truck the foremost man of all this world,
But for fupporting robbers; fhall we now
Contaminate our fingers with bafe bribes ?
And fell the mighty pace of our large honours,
For fo much trath, as may be grafped thus ?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than fuch a Roman !

Caf. Brutus, bait not me,
I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in; I am a foldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourfalf
To make conditions.

Bru. Go to; you are not, Caffius. Caf. I am.

Bru. I fay, you are not.

Caf. Urge me no more, I fhall forget myself; Have mind upon yourhealth-tempt me no farther. Bra. Away, flight man!

Caf. Is 't poffible?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Muft I give way and room to your rafh choler?
Shall I be frighted, when a madman stares?
Caf. O ye Gods! ye Gods! muft I endure all
this?
[heart break;
Br. All this! ay, more: fret, till your proud
Go, fhew your flaves how choleric you are,
And make your bondmen tremble. Muft I budge?
Muft I obferve you? muft 1 ftand and crouch
Under your testy humour? By the Gods,
You fhall digeft the venom of your spleen,
Tho' it do fplit you: for, from this day forth,
I'll ufe you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are wafpifh.

Caf. Is it come to this?

Bru. You fay you are a better foldier: Let it appear fo; make your vaunting true, And it thall pleafe me well: for mine own part, I fhall be glad to learn of noble men.

Caf. You wrong me ev'ry way you wrong me, Brutus;

I faid an elder foldier, not a better.

Caf. What! durft not tempt him? Bru. For your life you durft not.

[him.

Caf. Do not prefume too much upon my love, I may do that I fhall be forry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be forry for. There is no terror, Caffius, in your threats; For I am arm'd fo ftrong in honefty, That they pafs by me as the idle wind Which I refpect not. I did fend to you For certain fums 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 hands of peafants their vile trash, By any indirection. I did fend

Το

you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me was that done like Caffius? Should I have anfwer'd Caius Caffius fo? When Marcus Brutus grows fo covetous, To lock fuch rafcal counters from his friends, Be ready, Gods, with all your thunderbolts Dafh him to pieces!

Caf. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Caf. I did not:-he was but a fool That brought my answer back.-Brutus hath riv'd my heart:

A friend fhould bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.

Caf. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius, For Caffius is a weary of the world: Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother; Check'd like a bendman; all his faults obferv'd, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote, To caft into my teeth. O, I could weep My fpirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger, And here my naked breaft ;-within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold: If that thou be'ft a Roman, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike, as thou didst at Cæfar: for, I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dft him Than ever thou lov'dit Caffius. [better

Bru. Sheath your dagger;

Be angry when you will, it fhall have scope;
Do what you will, difhonour fhall be humour.
O Caffius, you are yoked with a lamb,
That carries anger as the flint bears fre;
Who, much enforced, fhews a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Caf. Hath Caffius liv'd

Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Caflius; and from henceforth, When you are over-earneft with your Brutus, He 'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

Opportunity to be feized on all Affairs.
There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in fhallows, and in miferies.
On fuch a full fea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it ferves,
Or lofe our ventures.

The Parting of Brutus and Caffius.
Bru. No, Caffius, no; think not, thou noble
Roman,

That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
He bears too great a mind. But this fame day
Muft end that work the ides of March began:
And whether we fhall meet again, I know not.
Therefore our everlasting farewel take :-
For ever, and for ever, farewel, Caffius!
If we do meet again, why, we fhall fmile;
If not, why then this parting was well made.
Caf For ever, and for ever, farewel, Brutus!
If we do meet again, we 'll fmile indeed;
If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made.
Bru. Why then, lead on.-O, that a man might

know

The end of this day's bufincfs ere it come!
But it fufficeth, that the day will end,
And then the end is known.

Melancholy the Parent of Error.

O, hateful error, melancholy's child! Why doft thou fhew to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O error, foon conceiv'd, Thou never com'ft unto a happy birth, But kill'ft the mother that engender'd thee. Antony's Character of Brutus.

This was the nobleft Roman of them all : All the confpirators, fave only he, Did, that they did, in envy of great Cæfar; He, only, in a general honeft thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mixt in him, that nature might stand up, And fay to all the world, "This was a man !"

LET it be fo-thy truth then be thy dower :
For, by the facred radiance of the fun;
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
By all the operations of the orbs

From whom we do exift, and cease to be;
Here I difclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity and property of blood,
And as a ftranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barb'rous
Scythian,

Or he that makes his generation meffes
To gorge his appetite, fhall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
As thou, my fometime daughter.

Stand in the plague of cuftom; and permit
The curiofity of nations to deprive me,
For that I am fome twelve or fourteen moonshines
Lag of a brother? Why baftard? Wherefore base?
When my dimensions are as well compact,
My mind as gen'rous, and my fhape as true,
As honeft madam's iffue? Why brand they us
With bafe with bafenefs baftardy? base, base
Who, in the lufty stealth of nature, take
More compofition and fierce quality,
Than doth within a dull, ftale, tired bed
Go to creating a whole tribe of fops,
Got 'tween afleep and wake?

A Father curfing bis Child.
Hear, Nature, hear;

Dear goddefs, hear! Sufpend thy purpose, if
Thou didst intend to make this creature fruitful!
Into her womb convey fterility!

Dry up in her the organs of increase;
And from her derogate body never spring
A babe to honour her! If the muft teem,
And be a thwart difnatur'd torment to her!
Create her child of fpleen; that it may live,
Let it ftamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent tears fret channels in her checks;
Turn all her mother's pains, and benefits,
To laughter and contempt; that he may feel
How fharper than a ferpent's tooth it is
To have a thanklefs child!

Ingratitude in a Child.

Ingratitude thou marble-hearted fiend, More hideous, when thou fhew'ft thee in a child, Than the fea-monster!

Flattering Sycophants.

That fuch a flave as this fhould wear a fword, Who wears no honefty! fuch smiling rogues as thefe,

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain
Which are too intrince t'unloofe: foothe ev'ry
paffion,

That in the nature of their lords rebels:
Bring oil to fire, fnow to their colder moods:
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With ev'ry gale and vary of their masters;
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
Plain, blunt Men.

-This is fome fellow,
Who, having been prais'd for bluntnefs doth affect
A faucy roughness; and conftrains the garb,
Quite from his nature: He cannot flatter, he!-
An honeft mind and plain-he must speak truth,
An they will take it fo; if not, he 's plain.
Thefe kind of knaves I know, which in this
plainnefs

Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends
Than twenty filly ducking obfervants,
That ftretch their duties nicely.

Defcription of Bedlam Beggars.
While I may fcape,

I will preferve myself: and am bethought
To take the bafeft and most poorest shape,

That