English piece a monstrous fpectacle, and takes not the leaft notice of a speech which may be confidered as one of the finest pieces of rhetoric that is extant, I am defirous to fet it before the reader. It is presumed that he will hardly find any thing monstrous in its form, or abfurd in its matter, but quite the reverfe. I fuppofe a popular addrefs and manner, in an oration defigned for the populace, would be deemed the most proper by the best critics in the art of rhetoric.

ANTONY.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.
I come to bury Cæfar, 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 Cæfar! noble Brutus
Hath told you, Cæfar was ambitious;
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Cæfar anfwer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest,
For Brutus is an honourable man,
So are they all, all honourable men,
Come I to fpeak in Cæfar's funeral.

He

He was my friend, faithful and just to me;
But Brutus fays 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 Cæfar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cry'd, Cæfar hath wept;
Ambition fhould be made of fterner ftuff,

Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious,

And Brutus is an honourable man,
You all did fee, that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refufe.

Was this ambition!

Yet Brutus fays, he was ambitious;

And, fure, he is an honourable man.

I speak not, to disprove what Brutus fpoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know,

You all did love him once, not without caufe;
What cause with-holds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment thou art fled to brutish beasts,

And men have loft their reason. Bear with me.

My heart is in the coffin there with Cæfar,

And I must pause till it come back to me,

I PLEBEIAN.

Methinks, there is much reafon in his fayings, &c.

ANTONY.

ANTONY.

But yesterday the word of Cæfar might

Have ftood against the world; now lies he there, And none fo poor to do him reverence.

O mafters! if I were difpos'd to ftir

Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
Ifhould do Brutus wrong, and Caffius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men.

I will not do them wrong: I rather chufe
To wrong the dead, to wrong myfelf and you,
Than I will wrong fuch honourable men.

But here's a parchment, with the feal of Cæfar,

I found it in his clofet, 'tis his will;

Let but the commons hear this teftament,

Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,

And they would go and kifs dead Cæfar's wounds,

And dip their napkins in his facred blood;

Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,

And dying, mention it within their wills,

Bequeathing it as a rich legacy

Unto their iffue.

4 PLEBEIAN.

We'll hear the will; read it, Mark Antony.

ALL.

The will, the will. We will hear Cæfar's will.

ANTONY.

ANTONY.

Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;
It is not meet, you know how Cæfar lov'd you,
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ;
And, being men, hearing the will of Cæfar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
'Tis good you know not, that you are his heirs ;
For if you fhould, O what would come of it?

Read the will, we will hear it, Antony, &c.

Will

ANTONY.

you be patient? will you stay a while?

I have o'erfhot myfelf, to tell you of it.

I fear, I wrong the honourable men,

Whofe daggers have stabb'd Cæfar. I do fear it.

4 PLEBEIAN.

They were traitors, &c.

ANTONY.

You will compel me then to read the will?
Then make a ring about the corps of Cæfar,
And let me fhew you him, that made the will.
Shall I defcend? and will you give me leave?
ALL.

Come down.

3 PLE.

3 PLEBEIAN.

You fhall have leave.

ANTONY.

If you have tears, prepare to fhed them now.

You all do know this mantle; I remember
The first time ever Cæfar put it on,

'Twas on a fummer's evening in his tent,
That day he overcome the Nervii.

Look! in this place, ran Caffius' dagger through; See, what a rent the envious Casca made; Through this, the well-beloved Brutus ftabb'd; And as he pluck'd his curfed steel away,

Mark, how the blood of Cæfar follow'd it!

As rushing out of doors, to be refolv'd,
If Brutus fo unkindly knock'd, or no:

For Brutus, as you know, was Cæfar's angel,
Judge, oh you Gods! how dearly Cæfar lov'd him;
This was the most unkindest cut of all;

For when the noble Cæfar faw him ftab,

Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms,

Quite vanquish'd him; then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face,

Even at the base of Pompey's ftatue,

Which all the while ran blood, great Cæfar fell.

O what