If there be any in this assembly, I any dear friend of Cæsar's, to him I say that Brutus' love to Cæsar, | was no less than his. | If, then, that friend demand i why Brutus rose against Cæsar, I this is my answer: Not that I loved Cæsar, less, I but that I loved Rome, more. Had you rather Cæsar were living, I and die all slaves', / than that Cæsar were dead, and live all free'men?

As Cæsar 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. I There are tears' for his love, I joy' for his for'tune, 1 honour for his valour, I and death for his ambition.

Who is here so base I that [he]" would be a bond man? | If any, I speak ; | for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that [he] would not be a Roman? . If any, I speakı ; | for him have I offended. / Who is here so vile that [he] will not love his country? | If any, I speak' ; | for him' have I offended. | I pause for a reply: 1

None'! | Then none' have I offended. | I have done no more to Cæsar, I than you should do to Brutus. | The question of his death | is enrolled in the Ca'pitol; i 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, I shall receive the ben'efit of his dying, - | a place in the commonwealth ; I as which of you shall not? | With this, I depart : ! That, 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. |

ANTONY'S ORATION OVER CÆSAR'S BODY.

(SHAKSPEARE.) Friends', Ro'mans, countrymen! | lend me your ears. | I come to bu'ry Cæsar, I not to praise him. The evil that men do, I lives after them; } The good | is oft interred with their bones, : 1 So let it be with Cæsar. | The noble Brutus Hath told you, I Cæsar was ambitious. | If it were so, I it was a grievous fault'; / And grievously hath Cæsar answer'd it. I Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest, (For Brutus is an honourable man; | So are they all, / all honourable men) | Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral. | He was my friend, I faithful, and just to me. 1 But Brutus, says, he was ambitious; ! And Brutus is an honourable man. | He hath brought many cap'tives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : | Did this in Cæsar seem ambi'tious ? | When that the poor have cried, I Cæsar hath wept. | Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. I Yet Brutus says, he was' ambitious ; | And Brutus is an honourable 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 Brutus is an honourable 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, I not without cause, I What cause withholds

you

then to mourn for him ? | O judgment ! | thou art fled to brutish beasts'; /

* Lupercalia, solemn sacrifices, and plays, dedicated to Pan, kept the 15th of February.-CICERO.

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. 1
But yesterday, I the word of Cæsar, might
Have stood against the world': now lies he there';
And none so poore to do him reverence.
O masters 1| if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, |
I should do Brutus wrong", I and Cas'sius wrong, I
Who,

you all know, I are honourable men. 1
I will not do them' wrong; | I rather choose
To wrong the dead', | to wrong myself, and you',

, | Than I will wrong such honourable men. | But here's a parch'ment, / with the seal of Cæsar. | I found it in his clos'et : 1 't is his will. I 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', 1 And dip their napkins in his sacred blood. ; | Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills., 1 Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue. / If

you have tears, I prepare to shed them now.) You all do know this mantle:11 remember The first time ever Cæsar put it on'; I 'T was on a summer's eve'ning, I in his tent :/ That day he overcame the Ner'viib - 1 Look! | in this place, ran Cassius' dag ger through:1 See what a rent the envious Cas'ca , made: 1 Through this, | the well-beloved Bru'tus, stabb’d; | And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, | Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it ! | This was the most unkindest cut of all, ; | For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab, 1

Ingratitude, ! more strong than traitor's arms, |
Quite van quish'd him.

Then burst his mighty heart ; !
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
E'en at the base of Pompey's statue,
(Which all the while ran blood !) great Cæsar fell. |
Ò what a fall was there', my countrymen! |
Then I', / and you', and all of us, fell downı, |
Whilst bloody treason flourish’da over us. ]
O now you weep; | and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity. | These are gracious drops. 1.
Kind, souls !, what! | weep you when you but behold
Our Cæsar's ves'ture wounded? | Look you here !!
Here is himself', | marr'd, as you see, by traitors. I
Good friends, I sweet' friends! | let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny - 1
They that have done this deed, I are honourable!
What private griefs they have, I alas ! I know not, |
That made them do it, they are wise and hon'ourable; ]
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you!|
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts: 1
I am no orator, as Brutus is ; |
But, as you know me all, la plain, blunt man, 1
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', i
Ac'tion, nor utterance, | nor 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, 1 And bid them speak for me. | But, were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits, I and put a tongue every

wound of Cæsar, I that should move The stones' of Rome / to rise in mutiny. 1

That is, nourished the sword. -- STEEVENS.

In

2

WOMAN.

(R. H. TOWNSEND.) Sylph of the blue, and beaming eye!

The Muses' fondest wreaths are thine, The youthful heart beats warm, and high, |

And joys to own thy power divine ! Thou shinest o'er the flowery path

of youth; | and all is pleasure there! Thou soothest man, / whene'er he hath |

An eye of gloom' - | a brow of care. I To youth, thou art the early morn', /

With “light, and melody, and songi,” | To gild his path'; \ each scene adorn', |

And swiftly speed his time along. To man, thou art the gift of Heav'n, |

A boon from regions bright above'; | His lot, how dark', I had ne'er been giv'n |

To him the light of woman's love, ! | When o'er his dark’ning brow, | the storm,

Is gath’ring in its power, and might', ! The radiant beam of woman's form',

Shines through the cloud', and all is light!) When dire disease prepares her wrath,

To pour in terror from above', How gleams upon his gloomy path', |

The glowing light of woman's love ! | When all around is clear, and bright',

And pleasure lends her fairest charm; And man, enraptur'd with delight', ]

Feels, as he views, his bosom warm', | Why glows his breast with joy profuse',

And all his deeds, his rap'ture prove ? | It is, because the scene he views' i

Through the bright rays of woman's love!,