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How fearful
And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!
The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air,
Show scarce so gross as beetles : half-way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire-dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head :
The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice; and

yon tall anchoring bark,
Diminished to her cock;3 her cock, a buoy,
Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge,
That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high :-I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient4 sight
Topple down headlong.


FRIENDS, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears!
I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Cæsar! Noble Brutus
Hath told you Cæsar was ambitious;
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Cæsar answered it.

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These lines are generally considered as an ctual description, but a referen to the connection in which they occur will show that, though suggested by the scenery of the Dover Cliffs, they only represent an imaginary picture. This consideration may serve to account for the discrepancy which is usually felt between the actual scene and this description.

(2) Samphire-a plant used for pickling. (3) Cock-a small man-of-war's boat. (4) And the deficient, &c.-i.e. and I, my sight failing me, topple down headlong. (5) “ Julius Cæsar,” Act iii., scene 3.

This speech is a masterpiece of oratory, exhibiting in one view nearly all the resources of the art. The ingenuity with which Antony "wields at will” the fickle populace of Rome in the midst of their greatest excitement, dextrously concealing his purpose until they were prepared themselves voluntarily to aid it, can hardly be too much Imi: while his success by such means confirms

* ruth of the dogma, that “Reason and Rhetoric have nothing in common.”

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Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest
For Brutus is an honourable man,
So are they all, all honourable men-
Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me;
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill;
Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious ?
When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept;
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable 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


he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once-not without cause
What cause withholds


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 Cæsar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

But yesterday, the word of Cæsar 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 honourable men:
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I will wrong such honourable men.

(1) Lupercal—a spot at the foot of Mount Aventine, at Rome, where the Lupercalia (games commemorative of the founder of Rome) were annually celebrated. Perhaps “on the Lupercal” refers only to the day, and not to the place.

(2) None so poor-i.e. “the meanest man is now too high to do reverence to Cæsar.”-Dr. Johnson.


But here's a parchment with the seal of Cæsar ;
I found it in his closet, 'tis his will;
Let but the commons. hear this testament
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read),
And they would go and kiss dead Cæsar'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.

you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle; I remember
The first time ever Cæsar 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 Cæsar followed it!
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved?
If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no:
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel :
Judge, O you gods ! how dearly Cæsar loved him :
This was the most unkindest cut of all :
For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
Quite vanquished him;

then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statua,
Which all the while ran hlood,great Cæsar fell.
Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourished over us.
Oh, now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity: these are gracious drops.





(1) The commons--the common people or plebs Romana.
(2) To be resolved-to have the doubt resolved, to ascertain the point.
(3) Statua-This word was once much used for statue.

(4) All the while-i. e.“the blood of Cæsar flew upon the statue, and trickled down it."- Dr. Johnson.

(5) Flourished-i.e. flourished or brandished the sword-triumphed. (6) Dint-mark, impression.

Kind souls! What! weep you when you but behold
Our Cæsar's vesture wounded? Look


Here is himself, marred, as you see, with traitors.
Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To any sudden flood of mutiny.
They that have done this deed are honourable :
What private griefs they have, alas! I know not,
That made them do it; they are wise and honourable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
I come not, friends, to steal away your


am no orator, as Brutus is;
But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That loved my friend; and that they know full well
That gave me public leave to speak of him.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood; I only speak right on:
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths!
And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Cæsar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.



Related before the Senate of Venice.
Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approved good masters,
That I have ta’en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her;
The very

head and front of my offending
Hath this extent—no more. Rude am I in speech,
And little blest with the soft phrase of peace;

(1) There were, &c.-i.e. I would prove such an Antony as would ruffle, &c. (2) “Othello," Act i., scene 3.

This simple and beautiful narrative affords many instances of the influence which Shakspere's phraseology has had upon our language. His words and expressions, from their aptness and pithiness, have truly become “household terms" amongst us, still keeping their sharp and fresh appearance, like ancient coins in high preservation.


For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted they have used
Their dearest action in the tented field;
And little of this great world can I speak,

More than pertains to feats of broil and battle ;
And therefore little shall I grace my cause
In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnished tale deliver
Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration, and what mighty magic
(For such proceeding I am charged withal)
I won his daughter with.

Her father loved me; oft invited me;
Still questioned me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have past.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it :
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breath 'scapes in the imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And portance in my travel's history:
Wherein of antres ? vast, and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills, whose heads touch heaven,
It was my hint to speak ;-such was the process;
And of the cannibals that each other eat,
The anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline;
But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse : which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,

(1) Portance--port, bearing, conduct.
(2) Antres--from the Latin antrum, a cavern-caves.

(3) Anthropophagi—from the Greek ävopwtos, a man, and paytīv, to eatman-eaters.

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