That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd ! Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods ! When went there by an age, since the great flood, But it was fam'd with more than with one man? When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome, That her wide walks encompass'd but one man?

Cesar's suspicions of Cassius.

'Would he were fatter :-but I fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear,

I do not know the man I should avoid

So soon as that spare Cassius.

He reads much;

He is a great observer, and he looks

Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,
As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music:
Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort,
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit,
That could be mov'd to smile at any thing
Such men as he be never at heart's ease,
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves;
And therefore are they very dangerous.

I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,
Than what I fear, for always I am Cæsar.

ACT II.

Ambition clad in Humility.

But 'tis a common proof,

That lowliness is young ambition's ladder
Whereto the climber upward turns his face :
But when he once attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend.

Conspiracy dreadful till executed.

Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:
The genius, and the mortal instruments,
Are then in council: and the state of man,
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection.

O conspiracy!

Conspiracy.

Shamest thou to shew thy dangerous brow by night
When evils are most free? O then, by day,
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough

To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; Hide it in smiles and affability;

For if thou path, thy native semblance on,

Not Erebus itself were dim enough

To hide thee from prevention.

Sleep.

Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber :

Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,

Which busy care draws in the brains of men ;

Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

Portents attend Royal Deaths.

When beggars die, there are no comets seen : The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

The Fear of Death.

Cowards die many times before their deaths:

The valiant never taste of death but once.

Of all the wonders that I yet

have heard,

It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come.

Envy.

My heart laments that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation.*

ACT III.

Brutus's Address to the Citizens.

BRUTUS. Be patient till the last.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, 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 Cæsar's, to him I say, that Brutus's love to Cæsar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer,-Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living and die all slaves; than that Cæsar were dead, to live all free men? As Cæsar loved me,

weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base, that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so vile,

* Malice.

that will not love his country? If any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.

CITIZENS. None, Brutus, none.

BRUTUS. Then none have I offended.

I have done

no more to Cæsar, than you should 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 receive 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.

Antony's Oration over Casar's Body.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!
I come to bury Cæsar, 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 Cæsar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you, Cæsar was ambitious :
If it were so, it was a grievous fault ;
And grievously hath Cæsar answer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest
(For Brutus is an honourable man ;
So they are all, all honourable men),
Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.

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

And Brutus is an honourable man.

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

Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept;
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff;

Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see, that on the Lupercal,
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?
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 Cæsar,

And I must pause till it comes back to me.

*

*

*

*

But yesterday the word of Cæsar might

*

Have stood against the world: now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.

O masters! if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men ;
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I will wrong such honourable men.
But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cæsar;
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 Cæsar's wounds,