ANTONY. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, 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 Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious. If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer’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 speak in Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me; But Brutus says 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 Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept; Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: 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 sure he 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, not without cause; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? O judgement, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason. Bear with me. My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me. FIRST CITIZEN. Methinks there is much reason in his sayings. SECOND CITIZEN. If thou consider rightly of the matter, Caesar has had great wrong. THIRD CITIZEN. Has he, masters? I fear there will a worse come in his place. FOURTH CITIZEN. Mark’d ye his words? He would not take the crown; Therefore ’tis certain he was not ambitious. FIRST CITIZEN. If it be found so, some will dear abide it. SECOND CITIZEN. Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping. THIRD CITIZEN. There’s not a nobler man in Rome than Antony. FOURTH CITIZEN. Now mark him; he begins again to speak. ANTONY. But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. O masters! If I were dispos’d to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong and Cassius wrong, Who, you all know, are honourable men. 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 parchment with the seal of Caesar, 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 Caesar’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.