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1 Pleb. Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
2 Pleb. If thou consider rightly of the matter, Cæsar has had great wrong. 3 Pleb.
Has he, masters ? I fear, there will a worse come in his place. 4 Pleb. Marked ye his words ? He would not take
the crown: Therefore, 'tis certain he was not ambitious.
1 Pleb. If it be found so, some will dear abide it. 2 Pleb. Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with
weeping. 3 Pleb. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony. 4 Pleb. Now mark him! he begins again to speak.
Ant. But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might
4 Pleb. We'll hear the will : read it, Mark Antony. All. The will, the will; we will hear Cæsar's will. Ant. Have patience, gentle friends; I must not read it:
It is not meet you know how Cæsar loved you.
4 Pleb. Read the will; we will hear it, Antony: You shall read us the will-Cæsar's will !
Ant. Will you be patient ? will you stay awhile ?
4 Pleb. They were traitors. Honourable men!
read the will ! Ant. You will compel me, then, to read the will ? Then make a ring about the corpse of Cæsar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend ! and will you give me leave ?
All. Come down. 2 Pleb. Descend. [He comes down from the pulpit. 3 Pleb. You shall have leave. 4 Pleb. A ring ! stand round ! 1 Pleb. Stand from the hearse! stand from the body! 2 Pleb. Room for Antony! most noble Antony ! Ant. Nay, press not so upon me: stand far off. All. Stand back ! room! bear back!
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: See what a rent the envious Casca made! Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed;
And, as he plucked his cursed steel away,
1 Pleb. O piteous spectacle !
2 Pleb. We will be revenged ! Revenge! AboutSeek-burn-fire-kill-slay-let not a traitor live!
Ant. Stay, countrymen. 1 Pleb. Peace, there! Hear the noble Antony. 2 Pleb. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die
with him. Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir
you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honourable :
What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.
ACT I., SCENE 3.
Venice.-A Council Chamber. Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither.
[Exeunt two or three. Oth. Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place.
[Exit Iago. And, till she come, as truly as to heaven I do confess the vices of my blood, So justly to your grave ears I'll present How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, And she in mine.
Duke. Say it, Othello.
Oth. Her father loved me; oft invited me; Still questioned me the story of my life, From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have passed. I ran it through, even 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-breadth 'scapes, i’ the imminent deadly breach; Of being taken by the insolent foe, And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, And portance in my travel's history: Wherein of antres vast, deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills, whose heads touched
heaven, It was my hint to speak, such was the process; And of the Cannibals that each other eat; The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things 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 intentively. I did consent; And often did beguile her of her tears, When I did speak of some distressful stroke, That my youth suffered. My story being done, She gave me, for my pains, a world of sighs: She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing