![]() ![]() His private arbours and new-planted orchards, Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas. ![]() Here is the will, and under Caesar’s seal. Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?Īlas, you know not: I must tell you then: Why, friends, you go to do you know not what: In every wound of Caesar that should move Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue Show you sweet Caesar’s wounds, poor poor dumb mouths,Īnd bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus, I tell you that which you yourselves do know To stir men’s blood: I only speak right on That gave me public leave to speak of him:įor I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,Īction, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, That love my friend and that they know full well I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts:īut, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That made them do it: they are wise and honourable,Īnd will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, ![]() They that have done this deed are honourable: Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up Here is himself, marr’d, as you see, with traitors. Our Caesar’s vesture wounded? Look you here, Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold The dint of pity: these are gracious drops. O, now you weep and, I perceive, you feel Whilst bloody treason flourish’d over us. Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. Quite vanquish’d him: then burst his mighty heart Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms, Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! Mark how the blood of Caesar follow’d it,įor Brutus, as you know, was Caesar’s angel: Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb’d Look, in this place ran Cassius’ dagger through: ‘Twas on a summer’s evening, in his tent, If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. Shall I descend? and will you give me leave? Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar,Īnd let me show you him that made the will. You will compel me, then, to read the will? Whose daggers have stabb’d Caesar I do fear it. I have o’ershot myself to tell you of it: Will you be patient? will you stay awhile? ‘Tis good you know not that you are his heirs įor, if you should, O, what would come of it! It will inflame you, it will make you mad: You are not wood, you are not stones, but men Īnd, being men, bearing the will of Caesar, It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you. Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,īut here’s a parchment with the seal of Caesar Īnd they would go and kiss dead Caesar’s woundsĪnd dip their napkins in his sacred blood,Īnd, dying, mention it within their wills, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, Have stood against the world now lies he there. My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,Īnd I must pause till it come back to me. O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him? You all did love him once, not without cause: I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:Īmbition should be made of sterner stuff: Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: He hath brought many captives home to Rome He was my friend, faithful and just to me: Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest– The good is oft interred with their bones I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. Commons member Amadscientist created the file from the book by William Smith, Abel Hendy Jones Greenidge, Andrew Dickson White, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.įriends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears
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