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to the elbows, and besmear our swords:

      Then walk we forth, even to the market-place,

      And, waving our red weapons o’er our heads,

      Let’s all cry ’Peace, freedom and liberty!’

      CASSIUS

      Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence

      Shall this our lofty scene be acted over

      In states unborn and accents yet unknown!

      BRUTUS

      How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,

      That now on Pompey’s basis lies along

      No worthier than the dust!

      CASSIUS

      So oft as that shall be,

      So often shall the knot of us be call’d

      The men that gave their country liberty.

      DECIUS BRUTUS

      What, shall we forth?

      CASSIUS

      Ay, every man away:

      Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels

      With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.

      Enter a Servant

      BRUTUS

      Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony’s.

      Servant

      Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel:

      Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down;

      And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say:

      Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest;

      Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving:

      Say I love Brutus, and I honour him;

      Say I fear’d Caesar, honour’d him and loved him.

      If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony

      May safely come to him, and be resolved

      How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death,

      Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead

      So well as Brutus living; but will follow

      The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus

      Thorough the hazards of this untrod state

      With all true faith. So says my master Antony.

      BRUTUS

      Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;

      I never thought him worse.

      Tell him, so please him come unto this place,

      He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour,

      Depart untouch’d.

      Servant

      I’ll fetch him presently.

      Exit

      BRUTUS

      I know that we shall have him well to friend.

      CASSIUS

      I wish we may: but yet have I a mind

      That fears him much; and my misgiving still

      Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

      BRUTUS

      But here comes Antony.

      Re-enter ANTONY

      Welcome, Mark Antony.

      ANTONY

      O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low?

      Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,

      Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.

      I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,

      Who else must be let blood, who else is rank:

      If I myself, there is no hour so fit

      As Caesar’s death hour, nor no instrument

      Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich

      With the most noble blood of all this world.

      I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,

      Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,

      Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,

      I shall not find myself so apt to die:

      No place will please me so, no mean of death,

      As here by Caesar, and by you cut off,

      The choice and master spirits of this age.

      BRUTUS

      O Antony, beg not your death of us.

      Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,

      As, by our hands and this our present act,

      You see we do, yet see you but our hands

      And this the bleeding business they have done:

      Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful;

      And pity to the general wrong of Rome-

      As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-

      Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,

      To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony:

      Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts

      Of brothers’ temper, do receive you in

      With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.

      CASSIUS

      Your voice shall be as strong as any man’s

      In the disposing of new dignities.

      BRUTUS

      Only be patient till we have appeased

      The multitude, beside themselves with fear,

      And then we will deliver you the cause,

      Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him,

      Have thus proceeded.

      ANTONY

      I doubt not of your wisdom.

      Let each man render me his bloody hand:

      First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;

      Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand;

      Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus;

      Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours;

      Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius.

      Gentlemen all, – alas, what shall I say?

      My credit now stands on such slippery ground,

      That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,

      Either a coward or a flatterer.

      That I did love thee, Caesar, O, ’tis true:

      If then thy spirit look upon us now,

      Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death,

      To see thy thy Anthony making his peace,

      Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,

      Most noble! in the presence of thy corse?

      Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,

      Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,

      It would become me better than to close

      In terms of friendship with thine enemies.

      Pardon

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