It was the first intent of the conspirators that Caesar and Antony should die together, but the fear was that the envious hate of the people toward Caesar would be neutralized by the love the soldiers bore both Caesar and Antony. So they counted on the cupidity and ambition of Antony to keep the soldiers in subjection. Antony was kept out of the plot, and when the blow was struck he was detained at his office by pretended visitors who wanted a hearing. When news came to him that Caesar was dead, he fled, thinking that massacre would follow. But the next day he returned and held audience with the rebels. Antony was too close a follower of Caesar to depart from his methods. Naturally he was hasty and impulsive; but now, everything he did was in imitation of the great man he had loved. Caesar always pardoned. Antony listened to the argument of Brutus that Caesar had been removed for the good of Rome. Brutus proposed that Antony should fill Caesar's place as Consul or nominal dictator; and in return Brutus and Cassius were to be made governors of certain provinces--amnesty was to be given to all who were in the plot. Antony agreed, and at once the Assembly was called and a law passed tendering pardon to all concerned--thus was civil war averted. Caesar was dead, but Rome was safe. The funeral of Caesar was to occur the next day. It was to be the funeral of a private citizen--the honor of a public funeral-pyre was not to be his. Brutus would say a few words, and Antony, as the closest friend of the dead, would also speak--the body would be buried and all would go on in peace. Antony had done what he had because it was the only thing he could do. To be successor of Caesar filled his ambition to the brim--but to win the purple by a compromise with the murderers! It turned his soul to gall. At the funeral of Caesar the Forum was crowded to every corner with a subdued, dejected, breathless throng. People spoke in whispers--no one felt safe--the air was stifled and poisoned with fear and fever. Brutus spoke first: we do not know his exact words, but we know the temper of the man, and his mental attitude. Mark Antony had kept the peace, but if he could only feel that the people were with him he would drive the sixty plotting conspirators before him like chaff before the whirlwind. He would then be Caesar's successor because he had avenged his death. The orator must show no passion until he has aroused passion in the hearer--oratory is a collaboration. The orator is the active principle--the audience the passive. Mark Antony, the practised orator, begins with simple propositions to which all agree. Gradually he sends out quivering feelers--the response returns--he continues, the audience answers back--he plays upon their emotion, and soon only one mind is supreme, and that is his own. We know what he did and how he did it, but his words are lost. Shakespeare, the man of imagination, supplies them.