That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward, or a flatterer.— That I did love thee, Cæsar, O, 'tis true: If then thy spirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy death, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, In terms of friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me, Julius!--Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart; Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, Cas. Mark Antony,— Ant. Pardon me, Caius Cassius: The enemies of Cæsar shall say this; Cas. I blame you not for praising Cæsar so; Or shall we on, and not depend on you? Ant. Therefore I took your hands; but was, in deed, Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Cæsar. Bru. Or else were this a savage spectacle: Ant. That's all I seek: And am moreover suitor, that I may Bru. You shall, Mark Antony. Cas. Brutus, a word with you. [Aside. You know not what you do; Do not consent, That Antony speak in his funeral: Know you how much the people may be mov'd Bru. By your pardon; I will myself into the pulpit first, And show the reason of our Cæsar's death: Cas. I know not what may fall; I like it not. You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, But speak all good you can devise of Cæsar; do't by our permission; And say, you Else shall you not have any hand at all In the same pulpit whereto I am going, Ant. I do desire no more. Be it so; Bru. Prepare the body then, and follow us. [Exeunt all but Antony. Ant. 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! Shall cumber all the parts of Italy: That mothers shall but smile, when they behold |