_"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him; The evil that men do live after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious; If it were so it was a grievous fault; And grievously hath Caesar answered it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, (For Brutus is an honorable man, So are they all, all honorable men); Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me; But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honorable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill; Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor hath cried, Caesar hath wept; Ambition should be made of sterner stuff; Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honorable man. You all did see, that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honorable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I know. You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason! Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause until it come back to me. But, yesterday the word of Caesar 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 honorable men. I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you Than I will wrong such honorable men. But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar; I found it in his closet, 'tis his will; Let but the commons hear this statement, (Which pardon me, I do not mean to read), And they would go and kiss dead Caesar'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. If you have tears prepare to shed them now, You all do know this mantle; I remember The first time ever Caesar 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 Caesar followed it; As rushing out of doors to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no;