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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
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 would 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,
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.

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.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men:
And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar,
It will inflame you-it will make you mad.

.
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;
For if you should, O what will come of it?

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 ?
I have o'ershot myself, to tell you of it:
I fear I wrong the honourable men,
Whose daggers have stabbed Cæsar: I do fear it.

4 Pleb. They were traitors. Honourable men!
All. The will! the testament!
2 Pleb. They were villains-murderers! The will !

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,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar followed it;
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved
If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel :
Judge, O you gods ! how dearly Cæsar loved him.
This was the most unkindest cut of all ;
For, when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
Quite vanquished him. Then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell!
0, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down:
Whilst bloody treason flourished 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 Cæsar's vesture wounded ? Look you here !
Here is himself! marred as you see, with traitors.

1 Pleb. O piteous spectacle !
2 Pleb. O noble Cæsar!
3 Pleb. O woeful day!
4 Pleb. O traitors ! villains !
1 Pleb. O most bloody sight!

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,
That made them do it: they are wise and honourable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
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
That gave me public leave to speak of him.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood: I only speak right on;
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Cæsar'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 Cæsar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.

SHAKSPERE.

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

strange :

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