Here hung my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs ? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen ? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour* she must come; make her laugh at that. JULIUS CESAR. CONTEMPT OF CASSIUS FOR CESAR. I was born free as Cæsar; so were you : And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder * Complexion. The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tyber Did I the tired Cæsar: and this man Is now become a god: and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body, He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him I did mark How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans ANTONY'S FUNERAL ORATION. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. He was my friend, faithful and just to me: *Temperament. But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious; When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know, You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? But yesterday the word of Cæsar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, O masters! if I were disposed to stir I will not do them wrong; I rather choose The meanest man is now too high to do reverence to Cæsar I found it in his closet, 'tis his will: And, dying, mention it within their wills, Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Cæsar 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 : Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd, For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's 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 Cæsar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel * * * * * Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honourable; What private griefst they have, alas, I know not, [up 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 I tell you that which you yourselves do know; And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony * Impression. † Grievances. |