LESSON CL.

Antony's Speech over the Body of Cesar.-TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CESAR.

1. FRIENDS, Romans, Countrymen!-Lend me your ears. I come to bury Cesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do, lives after them: The good is oft interred with their bones: So let it be with Cesar!

2. Noble Brutus

Hath told you Cesar was ambitious.
If it were so, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Cesar answer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest,
(For Brutus is an honorable man,
So are they all, all honorable men)
Come I to speak in Cesar's funeral-

3. He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious;

And Brutus is an honorable man.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:

Did this in Cesar seem ambitious?

4. When that the poor hath cried, Cesar hath wept! Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.

You all did see, that, on the Lupercal,t

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 honorable man.

5. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke; But here I am to speak what I do know.

* Marcus Antony, a brave, ambitious, artful, and designing Roman. He was warmly attached to Cesar, and after his assassination he resolved to seize the opportunity for raising himself to power. He artfully procured a public funeral for Cesar, and took this occasion to harangue the soldiers and populace in his favor,-and he inflamed them so much against the conspirators, that Brutus and Cassius were obliged to leave the city. He led an army against the conspirators, and defeated them at Philippi. He obtained a share of the Roman empire in the triumvirate which he formed with Augustus Cesar and Marcus Lepidus. But dissensions arising between these three, a civil war commenced, and Antony, defeated at the battle of Actium, fled to Egypt, and killed himself, B. C. 30

+ Lupercal, a feast among the Romans.

You all did love him once; not without cause;
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment! Thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me:
My heart is in the coffin there with Cesar;
And I must pause till it come back to me.

6. But yesterday, the word of Cesar might
Have stood against the world! now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
O masters! If I were dispos'd to stir

Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong;
Who, you all know, are honorable men.

I will not do them wrong-I rather choose
Το wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
Than I will wrong such honorable men.

7. But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cesar I found it in his closet: 'tis his will.

Let but the commons hear this testament,
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read)
And they would go and kiss dead Cesar's wounds,
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.

8. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember

The first time ever Cesar 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 Cesar follow'd it!

9. This, this was the unkindest cut of all.
For when the noble Cesar 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,

* Pronounced Nér-ve-i, a warlike people of Gaul, whom Cesar attacked and totally defeated.

E'en at the base of Pompey's statue,

(Which all the while ran blood,) great Cesar fell.
10. 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 Cesar's vesture wounded? Look you here!-
Here is himself-marr'd, as you see, by traitors.

11. 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!

What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,

That made them do it! They are wise and honorable,
And will, no doubt, with reason answer you.

12. 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 knew full well,
That gave me public leave to speak of him!
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor power of speech,
To stir men's blood.

13. I only speak right on,

I tell you that which you yourselves do know--

Show you sweet Cesar's wounds, poor, 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 Cesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.

LESSON CLI. / L

Othello's Apology for his Marriage.-TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO

1. Most potent, grave and reverend seigniors;
My very noble and approv'd good masters:
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her:
The very head and front of my offending
Hath this extent; no more.

2.
Rude am I in speech,
And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace:
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now, some nine moons wasted, they have us'd
Their dearest action in the tented field;

And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broils and battle;
And therefore, little shall I grace my cause,
In speaking of myself. Yet by your patience,
I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver,

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration, and what mighty magic,

(For such proceedings I am charg'd withal) won his daughter with.

3. Her father lov'd me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life

From year to year: the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I had past.

I ran it through, e'en from my boyish days
To the very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances:
Of moving accidents by flood and field:

Of hair breadths 'scapes in the imminent deadly breach:
Of being taken by the insolent foe,

And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,

And with it all my travel's history.

4.

-All these to hear

Would Desdemona seriously incline;

But still the house affairs would draw her thence⚫
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse. Which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate;
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not distinctly.

5.

I did consent;

And often did beguile her of her tears,

When I did speak of some distressful stroke

That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,

She gave me for my pains a world of sighs.

She swore in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange; "Twas pitiful; 'twas wond'rous pitiful:

She wish'd she had not heard it; yet she wish'd
That heaven had made her such a man.

6.
She thank'd me
And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. On this hint I spake ;
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd;
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them.
This is the only witchcraft which I've us'd.

LESSON CLII. S

Soliloquy of Hamlet* on Death.-TRAGEDY Of Hamlet
1. To be or not to be-that is the question,
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune-
Or to take arms against a sea of trouble,
And, by opposing, end them? To die-to sleep-
No more? And, by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to.

Devoutly to be wish'd.-To die—to sleep

To sleep, perchance to dream-ay, there's the rub—
For, in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause.

3.

There's the respect,
That makes calamity of so long life;

For, who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despis'd love-the law's delay-
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes-
When he himself might his quietus† make
With a bare bodkin.

4.

Who would fardels bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
(That undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns) puzzles the will,

* A Prince of Denmark.

+ Quietus, rest, repose + Fardel, a bundle, or little pack.