reservoir', your lordship might swim in it'?—[Here the judge interfered'.] Let no man dare', when I am dead', to charge me with dishonour': let no man attaint my memory', by believing that I could engage in any cause but that of my country's liberty and independence'; or that I could become the pliant minion of power in the oppression or the miseries of my countrymen'. The proclamation of the provisional government speaks my views'; from which no inference can be tortured to countenance barbarity or debasement at home', or subjection', or humiliation', or treachery', from abroad'. I would not have submitted to a foreign invader', for the same reason that I would resist the domestick oppressor'. In the dignity of freedom', I would have fought upon the threshold of my country', and its enemy should enter only by passing over my lifeless corpse'. And am I', who lived but for my country', who have subjected myself to the dangers of the jealous and watchful oppressor', and now to the bondage of the grave', only to give my countrymen their rights', and my country her independence', to be loaded with calumny', and not suffered to resent and REPEL it'? No'; God forbid'! If the spirits of the illustrious dead', participate in the concerns and cares of those who were dear to them in this transitory life'-oh'! ever dear and venerated shade of my departed father', look down with scrutiny upon the conduct of your suffering son', and see if I have', even for a moment', deviated from those principles of morality and patriotism' which it was your care to instil into my youthful mind', and for which I am now to offer up my life'. My lords', you seem impatient for the sacrifice'. The blood for which you thirst', is not congealed by the artificial terrours which surround your victim': it circulates warmly and unruffled through the channels which God created for noble purposes', but which you are bent to destroy for purposes so grievous', that they cry to Heaven'. Be yet patient'. I have but a few words more to say'. I am going to my cold and silent grave': my lamp of life is nearly extinguished': my race is run': the grave opens to receive me'; and I sink into its bosom'. I have but one request to ask at my departure from this world': it is the charity of its silence." Let no man write my epitaph'; for', as no man who knows my motives', dares now vindicate them, let not prejudice nor ignorance asperse them'. Let them and me repose in obscurity', "Mo'ment-not, mo'munt. På'trẻ-åt-izm. Sák'ré-flze. Sl'lênse. and my tomb remain uninscribed', until other times and other men can do justice to my character'. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth', then', and not till then', let my epitaph be written'.- -I HAVE DONE'. SECTION XIX. Brutus' Harangue on the Death of Cesar.-SHAKSPEARE. ROMANS', Countrymen', and lovers'! hear me for my cause'; and be silent', that you may hear'. Believe me for my honour'; and have respect to my honour', that you may believe'. Censure me in your wisdom'; and awake your senses', that you may the better judge'.—If there is any in this assembly', any dear friend of Cesar's', to him I say', that Brutus' love to Cesar was no less than his'. If", then', that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cesar', this is my answer': Not that I loved Cesar less', but that I loved Rome more'. Had you rather Cesar were living', and die all SLAVES', than that Cesar were dead', to live all freemen'?-As Cesar loved me', I weep for him'; as he was fortunate', I rejoice at it'; as he was valiant', I honour him'; but', as he was AMBITIOUS', I SLEW him'. There are tears for his love', joy for his fortune', honour for his valour', and DEATH for his AMBITION.-Who is here so base', that he would be a bondman'? If any', speak'; for him I have offended'. Who is here so rude', that he would not be a Roman'? If any', speak'; for him I have offended'.-Who is here so vile', that he will not love his country'? If any', speak'; for him I have offended'.-I pause for a reply' None'! Then none have I offended'. I have done no more to Cesar', than you shall do to Brutus'. The question of his death is enrolled in the capitol'; his glory not extenuated', wherein he was worthy'; nor his offences enforced', 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'-and', 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'. SECTION XX. Antony's Oration over Cesar's Dead Body.-SHAKSPEARE. FRIENDS', Romans', countrymen"! Lend me your ears'. I come to bury Cesar', not to praise him'. He was my friend', faithful and just to me': He hath brought many captives home to Rome', Did this in Cesar seem ambitious'? When that the pôôr have cried', Cesar hath wept'. And Brutus is an honourable mân'. Which he did thrice refuse': Was this ambition'? And', sure', he is an honourable mân'. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke'; You all did love him once'; not without cause';- But yesterday the word', Cesar', might Have stood against the world! Now lies he there', But here's a parchment', with the seal of Cesar'. Let but the commons hear this testament', Unto their issue'. If you have têars', prepare to shed them now'. You all do know this mantle': I remember The first time ever Cesar 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'- Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed'; Even at the base of Pompey's statue', (Which all the while ran blood',) great Cesar FELL'. Good friends"! Sweet friends! Let me not stir you up To any sudden flood of mutiny'. They that have done this deed, are hônourable'. What private griefs they have', alas', I know not', That made them do it'. They are wise and honourable', 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 love my friend'-and that they know full well', I tell you that which you yourselves do know Show you sweet Cesar's wounds', poor', poor', dumb mouths', And bid them speak for me'. But', were I, Brutus', And Brutus', Antony', there were* an Antony [that] SECTION XXI. Speech of Henry the Fifth before the battle of Agincourt. WHO's he that wishes more men from England'? To do our country loss'; and if to live', The fewer men', the greater share of honour'. He that outlives this day', and comes safe home', Then will he strip his sleeve', and show his scars'. But they'll remember', with advantages', What feats they did that day'. Then shall our names', Warwick and Talbot',a Salisburyb and Gloucester', We few', we happy few', we band of brothers'; And gentlemen in England', now abed', Shall think themselves accursed they were not here'; aTol'but. Sölz'bër-rẻ. Glôs'tèr. Nåre. eåre. *Would be, grammatically. |