O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Cry "Havoc," and let slip the dogs of war.
Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear.
Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more.
Who is here so base that would be a bondman?
If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
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.
For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men.
When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason.
But yesterday the word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the world; now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
See what a rent the envious Casca made.
This was the most unkindest cut of all.
Great Cæsar fell.
O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
What private griefs they have, alas, I know not.
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.
I only speak right on.
Put a tongue
In every wound of Cæsar that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
When love begins to sicken and decay,
It useth an enforced ceremony.
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.
You yourself
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm.
The foremost man of all this world.
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.
I said, an elder soldier, not a better:
Did I say "better"?
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats,
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not.