Whilst their purple hands do reek and smoke,
fulfill their pleasure,—a spirit that over the dead body of Cęsar takes the hand of each and yet exclaims:—
"Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better than to close
In terms of friendship with thine enemies."
Permission is granted Antony to speak a farewell word over the body of Cęsar in the crowded market place. Before the populace, hostile and prejudiced, Antony stands as the friend of Cęsar. Slowly, surely, making his approach step by step, with consummate tact he steals away their hearts and paves the way for his own victory. The honorable men gradually turn to villains of the blackest dye. Cęsar's mantle, which but a moment before had called forth bitter curses, now brings tears to every Roman's eye. The populace fast yields to his eloquence. He conquers every vestige of distrust as he says:—
"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."
And now the matchless orator throws off his disguise. With resistless vehemence he pours forth a flood of eloquence which bears the fickle mob like straws before its tide:—
"I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Cęsar'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 Cęsar, that would move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny."
The effect is magical. The rage of the populace is quickened to a white heat; and, baffled, beaten by a plain, blunt man, the terror-stricken conspirators ride like madness through the gates of Rome.
ANDR. AND HALE
From "Orations and After-Dinner Speeches," the Cassell Publishing
Company, New York, publishers.