Our reasons are so full of good regardThat 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 marketplace;
And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend,
Speak in the order of his funeral.
BRUTUS.
You shall, Mark Antony.
CASSIUS.
Brutus, a word with you.
[Aside to Brutus.] You know not what you do; do not consent
That Antony speak in his funeral:
Know you how much the people may be moved
By that which he will utter?
BRUTUS.
[Aside to Cassius.] By your pardon:
I will myself into the pulpit first,
And show the reason of our Caesar’s death:
What Antony shall speak, I will protest
He speaks by leave and by permission;
And that we are contented Caesar shall
Have all true rights and lawful ceremonies.
It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
CASSIUS.
[Aside to Brutus.] I know not what may fall; I like it not.
BRUTUS.
Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar’s body.
You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
But speak all good you can devise of Caesar;
And say you do’t by our permission;
Else shall you not have any hand at all
About his funeral: and you shall speak
In the same pulpit whereto I am going,
After my speech is ended.
ANTONY.
Be it so;
I do desire no more.
BRUTUS.
Prepare the body, then, and follow us.
[Exeunt all but Antony.]
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 destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quarter’d with the hands of war;
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:
And Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate’ by his side come hot from Hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice
Cry “Havoc!” and let slip the dogs of war,
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.—
[Enter a Servant].
You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?
SERVANT.
I do, Mark Antony.
ANTONY.
Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.
SERVANT.
He did receive his letters, and is coming;
And bid me say to you by word of mouth,—
[Seeing the body.] O Caesar!—
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 tonight 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 marketplace: there shall I try,
In my oration, how the people take
The cruel issue of these bloody men;
According to the which thou shalt discourse
To young Octavius of the state of things.
Lend me your hand.
[Exeunt with Caesar’s body.]
SCENE II. The same. The Forum.
[Enter Brutus and Cassius, with a throng
