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 judgment! 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.
