Chapter 13
_Antony._ 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 interrèd with their bones; So let it be with Cæsar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Cæsar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Cæsar answered it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest-- For Brutus is an honorable man; So are they all, all honorable 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 honorable 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 honorable 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 says he was ambitious, And, sure, he is an honorable 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 you, 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 honorable men. I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, Than I will wrong such honorable men.
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.
_Citizen._ We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
_All._ The will, the will! we will hear Cæsar's will.
_Ant._ Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it; It is not meet you know how Cæsar loved you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men; And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad. 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs; For, if you should, oh, what would come of it!
_Cit._ Read the will! we'll hear it, Antony! You shall read the will! Cæsar's will!
_Ant._ Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile? I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it. I fear I wrong the honorable men Whose daggers have stabbed Cæsar. I do fear it.
_Cit._ They were traitors! honorable men!
_All._ The will! the testament!
_Ant._ You will compel me, then, to read the will? Then make a ring about the corpse of Cæsar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend? And will you give me leave?
_All._ Come down.
_2 Citizen._ Descend. You shall have leave.
(_Antony comes down from the pulpit._)
_Ant._ 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 summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii. Look! in this place, ran Cassius's dagger through; See what a rent the envious Casca made; Through this, the well-belovèd Brutus stabbed; And, as he plucked his cursèd 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 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 flourished over us. Oh, 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 Our Cæsar's vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is himself, marred, as you see, with traitors.
Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honorable. What private griefs they have, alas! I know not, That made them do it; they are wise and honorable, And will, no doubt, with reasons 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 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.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 63: From "Julius Cæsar" by William Shakespeare (1564-1616).]
SELECTIONS TO BE MEMORIZED
I. THE PRAYER PERFECT[64]
Dear Lord! kind Lord! Gracious Lord! I pray Thou wilt look on all I love, Tenderly to-day! Weed their hearts of weariness; Scatter every care Down a wake of angel-wings, Winnowing the air.
Bring unto the sorrowing All release from pain; Let the lips of laughter Overflow again; And with all the needy Oh, divide, I pray, This vast treasure of content That is mine to-day!
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 64: From "Rhymes of Childhood," by James Whitcomb Riley, copyright, 1890. Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company.]
II. BE JUST AND FEAR NOT[65]
Be just and fear not; Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 65: By William Shakespeare.]
III. IF I CAN LIVE[66]
If I can live To make some pale face brighter and to give A second luster to some tear-dimmed eye, Or e'en impart One throb of comfort to an aching heart, Or cheer some wayworn soul in passing by; If I can lend A strong hand to the falling, or defend The right against one single envious strain, My life, though bare, Perhaps, of much that seemeth dear and fair To us of earth, will not have been in vain. The purest joy, Most near to heaven, far from earth's alloy, Is bidding cloud give way to sun and shine; And 'twill be well If on that day of days the angels tell Of me, "She did her best for one of Thine."
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 66: Author unknown.]
IV. THE BUGLE SONG[67]
The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, dearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river; Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 67: By Alfred Tennyson.]
V. THE NINETIETH PSALM
Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations.
Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God.
Thou turns man to destruction; and sayest, Return, ye children of men.
For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night.
Thou carried them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep: in the morning they are like grass which groweth up.
In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is cut down, and withereth.
For we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled.
Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy countenance.
For all our days are passed away in thy wrath; we spend our years as a tale that is told.
The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
Who knoweth the power of thine anger? even according to thy fear, so is thy wrath.
So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom....
Oh, satisfy us early with thy mercy; that we may rejoice and be glad all our days....
Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children.
VI. RECESSIONAL[68]
God of our fathers, known of old-- Lord of our far-flung battle line-- Beneath Whose awful Hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine-- Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies-- The captains and the kings depart-- Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice, A humble and a contrite heart. God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
Far-called, our navies melt away-- On dune and headland sinks the fire-- Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe-- Such boasting as the Gentiles use Or lesser breeds without the Law-- Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard, All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding calls not Thee to guard-- For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord!
Amen.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 68: By Rudyard Kipling.]
PROPER NAMES
Ad i ron'dacks
Æ t[=o]'li a
Ag a mem'non
A lon'zo
A m[=e]'li a
An a t[=o]'li a
An'to ny
A pol'lo
Ar'g[=i]ve
Ar'thur
Assisi ([:a]s s[=e] z[=e])
As s[)y]r'i a
Bar'ba ra
Ba v[=a]'ri a
Ber'lin
Bevagno (ba v[=a]n'yo)
Boetia (be [=o]'sh[)i] a)
Bo'na parte
Bozzaris (bo z[)a]r'is)
Brit'ta ny
Bru'tus
Bun'yan
Bur'gun dy
Bysshe (b[)i]sh)
Ca'diz
Cal e do'ni a
Ca thay'
Cau'dle
Charn'wood
Chat ta hoo'chee
Chi[+s]'_w_ick
Col i s[=e]'um
Cop'per field
C[=o]v'er ley
Cr[=e]a'kle
Cris'sa
D[=a]'na
D[)a]n'ube
D[=a]v'en port
Delft
Domitian (do m[)i]sh'i an)
Eb en [=e]'zer
Española ([)e]s pan y[=o]'la)
Eu'taw
Fer nan'do
F[)e]z'z[)i] wig
Fran'cis
Gal i l[=e]'o
Get'tys burg
Gib'son
Gu[:a] n[:a] h[)a]'n[:i]
Hab'er sham
H[=a]'man
H[:a]m'elin
Har'le quin
H[)e]l'las
Hel'les pont
Hu'bert
Ja m[=a]_i_'ca
Je m[=i]'ma
John'son
Juana (hw[:a]'na)
Knick'erbock er
La n_i_[=e]r'
Lannes (l[:a]n)
Leg'horn
Locks'ley
Lor raine'
Mag ne'si a
M[)a]r'i on
Mas'sa soit
M[)i]c_h_'ael mas
Mon'mouth
Mont calm'
Mon te bel'lo
Mont g[:o]m'er y
Na p[=o]'le on
Need'wood
Nic_h_'o las
Nin'e veh
Or'e gon
O res't[=e]s
Pal'las
Phoe'bus
Pinzon (p[=e]n th[=o]n')
Pla tæ'a
Po to'mac
Pro vence' (-v[)a]ns)
R[)a]ph'a el
R[)a]t'is bon
Rieti (r[=e] [)e]'t[=e])
Rog'er
Rouen (r[=o][=o] [:a]n')
Sa'lem
San'c_h_ez
San Sal va dor'
San tee'
Sar a to'ga
Sed'ley
Shel'ley
Spoun'cer
T[=o]'bit
T[=o]'phet
Tul'l[)i] ver
T[=y]re
Um'br[)i] a
V[)a]l'en t[=i]ne
Wake' field
Y[+s]'a bel
LIST OF AUTHORS
(Place of birth in parentheses. Title of one noted book in italics. Title of most famous poem in quotation marks.)
_Browning, Robert._ English poet. _The Ring and the Book._ (Born near London.) Lived in Italy. 1812-1889.
_Bryant, William Cullen._ American poet and journalist. "Thanatopsis." (Massachusetts.) New York. 1794-1878.
_Buckley, Arabella B._ (_Mrs. Fisher_). English writer on popular science. (Brighton, England.) 1840----.
_Bunyan, John._ English preacher and writer. _Pilgrim's Progress._ (Bedford.) London. 1628-1688.
_Burns, Robert._ Scottish poet. "Tam O'Shanter." (Alloway.) Dumfries. 1759-1796.
_Campbell, Thomas._ Scottish poet. "Hohenlinden." (Glasgow.) 1777-1844.
_Canton, William._ English journalist and writer. 1845----.
_Carnegie (k[:a]r n[)e]g'[)i]), Andrew._ American manufacturer and philanthropist. (Scotland.) New York. 1837----.
_Cherry, Andrew._ Irish poet and dramatist. _All for Fame._ (Ireland.) 1762-1812.
_Collins, William._ English poet. (Chichester.) 1721-1759.
_Columbus, Christopher._ The discoverer of America. (Genoa, Italy.) Spain. 1446(?)-1506.
_Cook, Eliza._ English poet. "The Old Arm-Chair." 1818-1889.
_Dickens, Charles._ English novelist. _David Copperfield._ (Portsmouth.) London. 1812-1870.
_Domett (d[)o]m'et), Alfred._ English poet and statesman. "Christmas Hymn." 1811-1887.
_Dumas (d[:u] m[:a]'), Alexandre._ French novelist and dramatist. _The Count of Monte Cristo._ 1802-1870.
_Eliot, George (Mrs. Mary Ann Evans Cross)._ English novelist. _The Mill on the Floss._ 1819-1880.
_Emerson, Ralph Waldo._ American philosopher and poet. _Essays._ (Boston.) 1803-1882.
_Everett, Edward._ American statesman and orator. _Orations and Speeches._ (Massachusetts.) 1794-1865.
_Fields, James T._ American publisher and author. (New Hampshire.) Massachusetts. 1817-1881.
_Giberne, Agnes._ English writer on scientific subjects.
_Goldsmith, Oliver._ English poet and novelist. _Vicar of Wakefield._ (Ireland.) 1728-1774.
_Halleck, Fitz-Greene._ American poet. "Marco Bozzaris." (Connecticut.) 1790-1867.
_Hawthorne, Nathaniel._ American novelist. _The Wonder Book._ (Massachusetts.) 1804-1864.
_Henry, Patrick._ American patriot. (Virginia.) 1736-1799.
_Herrick, Robert._ English poet. 1591-1674.
_Holmes, Oliver Wendell._ American author. _Autocrat of the Breakfast Table._ (Massachusetts.) 1809-1894.
_Hugo, Victor._ French novelist and poet. 1802-1885.
_Hunt, Leigh (James Henry Leigh Hunt)._ English essayist and poet. "Abou ben Adhem." 1784-1859.
_Irving, Washington._ American prose writer. _The Sketch Book._ (New York.) 1783-1859.
_Jerrold, Douglas William._ English humorist. _Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures._ (London.) 1803-1857.
_Jonson, Ben._ English dramatist. 1573-1637.
_Kipling, Rudyard._ English writer. _The Jungle Book._ (Bombay, India.) England. 1865----.
_Lamb, Charles._ English essayist. (London.) 1775-1834.
_Lanier, Sidney._ American musician and author. _Poems._ (Georgia.) Maryland. 1842-1881.
_Lee, Henry._ American general, father of Robert E. Lee. (Virginia.) 1756-1818.
_Lincoln, Abraham._ Sixteenth president of the United States. (Kentucky.) Illinois. 1809-1865.
_Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth._ American poet. _Poems._ (Maine.) Massachusetts. 1807-1882.
_Lowell, James Russell._ American poet and essayist. (Massachusetts.) 1819-1891.
_Macleod, Fiona (True name William Sharp)._ Scottish poet and story-writer. 1856-1905.
_Mitchell, Donald G._ American essayist. _Reveries of a Bachelor._ (Connecticut.) 1822-1908.
_Parker, Theodore._ American clergyman and author. (Massachusetts.) 1810-1860.
_Poe, Edgar Allan._ American poet and story-writer. "The Raven." (Massachusetts.) Virginia. 1809-1849.
_Pope, Alexander._ English poet. (London.) 1688-1744.
_Proctor, Richard A._ English astronomer. 1837-1888.
_Riley, James Whitcomb._ American poet. (Indiana.) 1852----.
_Rogers, Samuel._ English poet. (London.) 1763-1855.
_Ryan, Abram J._ American clergyman and poet. (Virginia.) Georgia; Kentucky. 1839-1886.
_Scott, Sir Walter._ Scottish poet and novelist. _Ivanhoe._ (Edinburgh.) 1771-1832.
_Shakespeare, William._ The greatest of English dramatists. (Stratford-on-Avon.) 1564-1616.
_Sharp, William._ See Macleod, Fiona.
_Shelley, Percy Bysshe (b[)i]sh)._ English poet. _Poems._ 1792-1822.
_Simms, William Gilmore._ American novelist and poet. (South Carolina.) 1806-1870.
_Sophocles (s[)o]f'o kl[=e]z)._ Greek tragic poet. 495-406 B.C.
_Sylvester, Joshua._ English poet. 1563-1618.
_Tennyson, Alfred._ English poet. _In Memoriam._ (Lincolnshire.) 1809-1892.
_Thackeray, William Makepeace._ English novelist and critic. (Calcutta, India.) London. 1811-1863.
_Timrod, Henry._ American poet. (South Carolina.) 1829-1867.
_Whitman, Walt._ American poet. _Leaves of Grass._ (New York.) Washington, D.C.; New Jersey. 1819-1892.
_Whittier, John Greenleaf._ American poet. _Poems._ (Massachusetts.) 1807-1892.
_Winslow, Edward._ Governor of Plymouth colony. (Worcestershire, Eng.) Plymouth, Massachusetts. 1595-1655.
_Wotton, Sir Henry._ English poet. 1568-1639.
End of Project Gutenberg's Eighth Reader, by James Baldwin and Ida C. Bender