The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Act III

BRUTUS Where's Publius? CINNA Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.

ANTONY 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 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 destructi

ANTONY Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar. Friends am I with you all and love you all, Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. BRUTUS Or else were this a savage spectacle: Our reasons are so full of good regard That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, You should be satisfied. ANTONY That's all I seek: And am moreover suitor that I may Produce his body to the market-place; An

ANTONY Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water. Is thy master coming? Servant He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. ANTONY Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: 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 corse Into the market-pl

CAESAR I must prevent thee, Cimber. These couchings and these lowly courtesies Might fire the blood of ordinary men, And turn pre-ordinance and first decree Into the law of children. Be not fond, To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood That will be thaw'd from the true quality With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning. Thy brother by decree is banished: If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a cur o

CASSIUS I could be well moved, if I were as you: If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true-fix'd 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 u

CASSIUS Mark Antony,-- ANTONY Pardon me, Caius Cassius: The enemies of Caesar shall say this; Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. CASSIUS I blame you not for praising Caesar 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?

ANTONY 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 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 destructi

BRUTUS Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy, nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. Enter ANTONY and others, with CAESAR's body 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

ANTONY 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, alas, I know not, That made them do it: they are wise and honourable, And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. 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 public leave to spe

ANTONY If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii: Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through: See what a rent the envious Casca made: Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd; And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly kno

ANTONY 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 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 destructi

BRUTUS 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 Caesar. For your part, To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony: Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts Of

ANTONY O mighty Caesar! 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 Caesar's death 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 smok

CASSIUS I could be well moved, if I were as you: If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true-fix'd 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 u

CINNA Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. CAESAR Are we all ready? What is now amiss That Caesar and his senate must redress?

POPILIUS I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. CASSIUS What enterprise, Popilius? POPILIUS Fare you well. Advances to CAESAR BRUTUS What said Popilius Lena? CASSIUS He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive. I fear our purpose is discovered.

CASSIUS I could be well moved, if I were as you: If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true-fix'd 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 u

Servant Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel: Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him and loved him. If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolved How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead So well as Brutus living

ANTONY 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 last in love, yours, good Trebonius. 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