The Kentish Mercury, July 3, 1875.
College Rhymes (Oxford) contains a long parody of this scene from Henry VIII. See p. 178, vol. 14.
JULIUS CÆSAR.
Brutus.—Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, 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 why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer:—Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living and die all slaves, than that Cæsar were dead, to 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. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
Act iii. Scene ii.
A Poaching Actor.
A poor itinerant player, caught performing the part of a poacher, and being taken before the magistrates assembled at a quarter sessions for examination, one of them asked him what right he had to kill a hare? when he replied in the following parody on Brutus’ speech to the Romans in defence of the death of Cæsar:—
“Britons, hungrymen, and epicures! hear me for my cause; and be silent—that you may hear; believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of this hare, to him I say, that a player’s love for hare is no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why a player rose against a hare, this is my answer—not that I loved hare less, but that I loved eating more. Had you rather this hare were living, and I had died starving—than that this hare were dead, that I might live a jolly fellow? As this hare was pretty, I weep for him; as he was nimble, I rejoice at it; as he was plump, I honour him; but, as he was eatable, I slew him. There are tears for his beauty; honour for his condition; joy for his speed; and death for his toothsomeness. Who is here so cruel would see a starved man? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so silly that would not take a tit-bit? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so sleek that does not love his belly? If any, speak, for him have I offended.”