XXI.-Brutus' Harrangue on the Death of Cesar.—IB. ROMANS, Countrymen and Lovers!-Here me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor; and have respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Censure 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 Cesar's, to him, I say, that Brutus' love to Cesar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cesar, this is my answer: not that I loved Cesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cesar were living, and die all slaves; than that Cesar were dead, to live all freemeu? As Cesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor for his valor, and death for his ambition. -Who's here so base, that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him I have offended. Who's here so rude, that would not be a Roman ? If any, speak; for him I have offended. Who's here so vile, that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him I have offended. I pause for a reply None! Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cesar 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. Here comes his body, mourn'd by Mark Antony; who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receivo 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. XXII.-Antony's Oration over Cesar's Body. FRIENDS, Romans, Countrymen! Lend me your ears. So let it be with Cesar! Noble Brutus He was my friend, faithful and just to me: A:d Brutus is an honorable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Did this in Cesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Cesar hath wept! Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? And sure, he, is an honorable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke ; You all did love him once; not without cause; Have stood against the world! now lies he there, O Masters! If I were dispos'd to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I will not do them wrong-1 rather choose But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cesar; Let but the commons hear this testament, Unto their issue. If you have tears, prepare to shed ther now, > Iwas on a summer's evening in his tent, f Look in this place ran Cassius' dagger through- For when the noble Cesar saw him stab, Quite vanquish❜d him! Then burst his mighty heart, E'en at the base of Pompey's statue, (Which all the while ran blood) great Cesar fell. Good friends! Sweet friends! Let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny! They that have done this deed are honorable! 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, Show you sweet Cesar's wounds, poor,poor,dumb mouths, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongne XXIII.-Falstoff's Soliloquy on Honor.-HENRY IV. OWE heaven a death; 'Tis not due yet; and I would be loth to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter honor pricks me on.-But how, if honor prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honor set to a leg? No; or an arm ? No; or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honor? A word. What is that word honor? Air; a trim reckoning. Who hath it? He that died a Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it No. Is it insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore, I'll none of it. Honor is a mere 'scutcheon-and so ends my catechism. XXIV.-Part of Richard IIId's Soliloquy the night preeeding the Battle of Bosworth. TRAGEDY OF RICHARD III. "TIS now the dead of night, and half the world With all the weary courtship of My care tir'd thoughts, can't win her to my bed, Eing Though e'en the stars do wink,as' twere, with over watch I'll forth, and walk awhile. The air's refreshing, Gives it a sweet and wholesome odor. How awful is this gl om! and hark! From camp to camp That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret whisper of each other's watch! Steed threatens seed in high and boasting neighings, Piercing the night's dull ear. Hark! From the tents, The armorers, accomplishing the knights, With clink of hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation: while some, The morning's danger. By yon heaven, my stern And once more try to sleep her into morning XXV. The World compared to a Stage. ALL the world is a stage; AS YOU LIKE IT And all the men and women, merely players. And then the whining Schoolboy; with his satchel, Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the Justice; |