BRU. Do so;-and let no man abide this deed, But we the doers.

CAS.

Re-enter TREBONIUS.

Where is Antony?

TRE. Fled to his house amaz'd:

Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run As it were doomsday.

BRU. Fates! we will know your pleasures:That we shall die, we know; 't is but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon.

CAS. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

BRU. 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 Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, Let's all cry, Peace, Freedom, and Liberty!

Cas. Stoop, then, and wash.-How many ages hence

Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
BRU. How many times shall Cæsar bleed in
sport,

That now on Pompey's basis lies † along,
No worthier than the dust!

11 then let fall Your horrible pleasure."

If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
May safely come to him, and be resolv'd
How Caesar hath deserv'd to lie in death,
Mark Antony shall not love Cæsar dead
So well as Brutus living; but will follow
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus,
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state,
With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
BRU. 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 satisfied; and, by my honour,
Depart untouch'd.

SERV.

I'll fetch him presently. [Exit.

BRU. I know that we shall have him well to

friend.d

CAS. I wish we may: but yet have I a mind That fears him much; and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

BRU. But here comes Antony.—

Re-enter ANTONY.

Welcome, Mark Antony.
ANT. O, mighty Cæsar! 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 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
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.

BRU. O, Antony! beg not your death of us.
Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,
As, by our hands and this our present act,
You see we do; yet see you but our hands,
And this the bleeding business they have done :
Our hearts you see not, they are pitiful;
And pity to the general wrong of Rome
(As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity)

Hath done this deed on Cæsar. For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony :

C CAS.] The folio has the prefix Cask. d-to friend.] Equivalent to, for friend.

and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.]

My misgiving always, or ever, falls, &c.

f who else is rank:] Who else is too high-topped; of too luxuriant growth.

gif you bear me hard,-] Vide note (b), p. 418.

Our arms, in strength of malice," and our hearts
Of brothers' temper, do receive you in
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
CAS. Your voice shall be as strong as any
man's

In the disposing of new dignities.

BRU. Only be patient till we have appeas'd The multitude, beside themselves with fear, And then we will deliver you the cause, Why I, that did love Cæsar when I struck him, Have thus proceeded.

ANT. 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, Metellus ;

Yours, Cinna;-and, my valiant Casca, yours ;Though last, not least in love, yours, good Tre

bonius.

Gentlemen 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, Cæsar, O, 'tis true:
If, then, thy spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death,
To see thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
Most noble in the presence of thy corse?
Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better than to close
In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me, Julius !-Here wast thou bay'd, brave
hart;

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 heart of thee.-
How like a deer, strucken by many princes,
Dost thou here lie!

CAS. Mark Antony,—
ANT.
Pardon me, Caius Cassius:
The enemies of Cæsar shall say this;
Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.

CAS. I blame you not for praising Cæsar so; But what compact mean you to have with us?

ain strength of malice,-] For "malice," an unquestionable corruption, Mr. Collier's annotator proposes, welcome, a word, as Mr. Dyce remarks, which no way resembles it in the ductus literarum. Mr. Singer, with far more likelihood, suggests, amity. b Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe.-] The allusion is to the huntsmen's custom of tricking themselves out with the hide and antlers of the slaughtered deer and bathing their hands in its blood. Some difficulty, however, arises from the word "lethe," which, notwithstanding the assertion of Steevens that it was employed of old for death, has by many been pronounced a misprint. Theobald first proposed to read,

"crimson'd in thy death."

and this not improbably was what the poet wrote. Blood, it is

Will you be prick'd in number of our friends;
Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
ANT. 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.

BRU. Or else were this a savage spectacle:
Our reasons are so full of good regard,
That were you, Antony, the son of Cæsar,
You should be satisfied.

That Antony speak in his funeral:
Know you how much the people may be mov'd
By that which he will utter?

BRU.

By your pardon;I will myself into the pulpit first, And show the reason of our Cæsar's death: What Antony shall 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.

CAS. I know not what may fall; I like it not. BRU. Mark Antony, 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
About his funeral: and you shall speak
In the same pulpit whereto I am going,
After my speech is ended.

ANT.

I do desire no more.

Be it so;

BRU. Prepare the body, then, and follow us. [Exeunt all except ANTONY. ANT. O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,

well known, often signified death and life; we still hear, "I'l have his blood," for I'll take his life, or be the death of him; and in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Custom of the Country," Act V. Sc. 5, there is a passage, strikingly illustrative of the one under consideration, where "life" is used as a synonym for blood:"When thine own bloody sword cried out against thee, Hatch'd in the life of him."

c Friends am I with you all,-] The inaccurate pluralism here, as Henley observes, "is still so prevalent, as that the omission of the anomalous s would give some uncouthness to the sound of an otherwise familiar expression."

d in the order of his funeral.] That is, in the course of the ceremonial

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 prophesy,-
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;
Domestic 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;
All pity chok'd with custom of fell deeds:
And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Até by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice,

SERV. He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome.

ANT. Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanc'd:

Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
No Rome of safety for Octavius yet;

Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile ;
Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corset *
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
Το Octavius of the state of things.
young
Lend me your hand.

[Exeunt with CESAR's body.

SCENE II.-The same. The Forum.

Rome more. Had rather Cæsar were living,

you

and die all slaves; than that Cæsar were dead, to live all freemen? 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 his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.(3) CITIZENS. None, Brutus, none.

BRU. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæsar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein

censure

3 CIT. The noble Brutus is ascended: silence! BRU. Be patient till the last. 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 mine honour, that you may believe: me in your wisdom; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. 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

(*) Old text, course.

a No Rome of safety-] We have the same quibble on Rome, the city, and room, an old word for place, in Act I. Sc. 2, and it appears to have been a familiar one of the time. Prime, in his Commentary on the Galatians, p. 122, 1587, has the expression, "Rome is too narrow a Room for the church of God."

The question of his death-] Question here means, the motives or reasons which led to his death.

which he suffered death. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of 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 myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.