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Nacd. If it be mine, Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for.
ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, That ever yet they heard.
Macd. Hum! I guess at it.
of these murther'd deer To add the death of
Macd. My children too!-
be found. Macd. And I must be from thence ! My wife
kill'd too! Rosse: I've said.
Mal. Be comforted. Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief. Macd. He has no children. All my pretty
ones! Did you say all? What all? Oh, hell-kite! All?
Mal, Endure it like a man.
Macd. I shall do so;. But I must also feel it as a man. I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. Did Heav'a look
And would not take their part ? Sinful Macduff,
now! Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword, let grief
Convert to wrath ; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
Macd.0, I could play the woman with mineeyes, And braggart with my tongue. But gentle heav'n! Cut short all intermission : front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; Within my sword's length set him, if he 'scape , Then Heav'n forgive him too!
Mal. This tine goes manly. Come, go we to the king, our power is ready'; Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you
may ; The night is long that never finds the day.
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers.
lend me your
CHA P. X X V. Antony's funeral oration over Cæsar's
body. Friends, Romans, Countrymen,
you, Cæsar was ambitious;
he is an honourable man.
then to mourn for him! O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason. --Bear with me, in My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,
And , sure,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
If 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 suinmer's evening in his tent. That day he overcame the NerviiLook! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through; See what a rent the envious Casca made.Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd; And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it! As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd, If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no: For Brutus , as you know, was Cæsar's angel. Judge, oh ye gods! how dearly Cæsar lov'd him; This, this was the unkindest cut of all; -For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms; Quite vanquish'd him; then burst his
mighty heart; And, in his mantle mustling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statue, Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell. Oh what a fall was there , my countrymen ! Then I and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep; and I perceive you feel The dint of pity; these are gracious drops. Kind souls; what, weep you when you but behold Out Caesar's vesture wounded ? look
here! Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, by 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 honour
able ; And will, no doubt, with reason answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is: But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That loves ny friends : 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 utt'rance, 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 mouth! 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.
SHAKESPEARE. CHA P. X X V I. The Quarrel of Brutus and Cassius.
Bru. You wrong'd yourself to write in such a
Cas. In such a time as this it is not meet. That ev'ry nice offence should bear its comment.
Bru. Yet let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm, To sell and mart your offices for gold, To undeservers.
Cas. I an itching palm? You know, that you are Brutus that spake this , Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Bru. The name of Cassius honours this cor
ruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide its head. Cas. Chastisement!