ACT III
SCENE II. The same. The Forum.
We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.
I will hear Brutus speak.
The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!
None, Brutus, none.
Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enroll’d in the Capitol, his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforc’d, for which he suffered death.
Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony, who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart, that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Live, Brutus! live, live!
Bring him with triumph home unto his house.
Give him a statue with his ancestors.
Let him be Caesar.
We’ll bring him to his house with shouts and clamours.
My countrymen,—
Peace! Silence! Brutus speaks.
Peace, ho!
Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.
For Brutus’ sake, I am beholding to you.
What does he say of Brutus?
’Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here!
This Caesar was a tyrant.
Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.
You gentle Romans,—
Peace, ho! let us hear him.
Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
There’s not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
Now mark him; he begins again to speak.
We’ll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony.
The will, the will! We will hear Caesar’s will.
They were traitors. Honourable men!
The will! The testament!
They were villains, murderers. The will! Read the will!
Come down.
Descend.
You shall have leave.
A ring! Stand round.
Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
Room for Antony, most noble Antony!
Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.
Stand back; room! bear back.
O piteous spectacle!
O noble Caesar!
O woeful day!
O traitors, villains!
O most bloody sight!
We will be revenged.
Revenge,—about,—seek,—burn,—fire,—kill,—slay,—let not a traitor live!
Stay, countrymen.
Peace there! Hear the noble Antony.
We’ll hear him, we’ll follow him, we’ll die with him.
We’ll mutiny.
We’ll burn the house of Brutus.
Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.
Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
Peace, ho! Hear Antony; most noble Antony.
Most true; the will!—let’s stay, and hear the will.
Most noble Caesar! We’ll revenge his death.
O, royal Caesar!
Hear me with patience.
Peace, ho!
Go, fetch fire.
Pluck down benches.
Pluck down forms, windows, anything.
How now, fellow?
Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
Where is he?
He and Lepidus are at Caesar’s house.