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.
FOURTH CITIZEN.
We’ll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
CITIZENS.
The will, the will! We will hear Caesar’s will.
ANTONY.
Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;
It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar,
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!
FOURTH CITIZEN.
Read the will! we’ll hear it, Antony;
You shall read us the will,—Caesar’s will!
ANTONY.
Will you be patient? will you stay awhile?
I have o’ershot myself to tell you of it:
I fear I wrong the honorable men
Whose daggers have stabb’d Caesar; I do fear it.
FOURTH CITIZEN.
They were traitors: honourable men!
CITIZENS.
The will! The testament!
SECOND CITIZEN.
They were villains, murderers. The will! read the will!
ANTONY.
You will compel me, then, to read the will?
Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar,
And let me show you him that made the will.
Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?
CITIZENS.
Come down.
SECOND CITIZEN.
Descend.
[He comes down.]
THIRD CITIZEN.
You shall have leave.
FOURTH CITIZEN.
A ring! stand round.
FIRST CITIZEN.
Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
SECOND CITIZEN.
Room for Antony!—most noble Antony!
ANTONY.
Nay, press not so upon me; stand far’ off.
CITIZENS.
Stand back; room! bear back.
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 wellbeloved 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 knock’d, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar’s angel:
Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all;
For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms,
Quite vanquish’d him: then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey’s statua,
Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar 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 Caesar’s vesture wounded? Look you here,
Here is himself, marr’d, as you see, with traitors.
FIRST CITIZEN.
O piteous spectacle!
SECOND CITIZEN.
O noble Caesar!
THIRD CITIZEN.
O woeful day!
FOURTH CITIZEN.
O traitors, villains!
FIRST CITIZEN.
O most bloody sight!
SECOND CITIZEN.
We will be revenged.
CITIZENS.
Revenge,—about,—seek,—burn,—fire,—kill,—slay,—let not a traitor live!
ANTONY.
Stay, countrymen.
FIRST CITIZEN.
Peace there! hear the noble Antony.
SECOND CITIZEN.
We’ll hear him, we’ll follow him, we’ll die with him.
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’re 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 speak of him:
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men’s blood: I only speak right on;
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Caesar’s wounds, poor dumb mouths,
And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Caesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
CITIZENS.