Antony's funeral speech, read in a 17th century pronunciation (from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar)
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- เผยแพร่เมื่อ 28 ก.ย. 2024
- This speech is taken from Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene II. I have left implicit any interactions with the crowd.
Errata: “I come not to disprove what Brutus spoke” for “I speak not to disprove”; “forgive me” for “bear with me”; the words “look you here” omitted; “poor dumb mouths” for “poor poor dumb mouths"; "whence comes such another" for "when comes such another."
Appreciate the quality you bring forth.
You sir, are a gem, and I would very much like to hear further readings in Early Modern English. Its incredibly important to the legacy of the English language.
Beautifully done. Thanks. 🎭
I really liked your essay on OP could you do some more Shakespere with your OP style? Your voice is incredible and makes me understand the speeches much better than in modern English!
Superb
I just found out your channel right now. Man, you're incredible! As a Latin speaker, could you be able reading Marcus Antonius' speech in Latin? Anyway now you got a new subscriber.
Stunning. I subscribed to your beautiful channel ❤
Oh I love these videos!! Can you try some Medieval French too please it would be so amazing to hear!
Thank you very much for your kind words. Whatever ability I may have in reading is limited only to English and ancient Greek. But I did recently stumble on a channel that I can recommend, that of A. Z. Foreman, who records in the widest variety of languages, both ancient and modern, of any reciter that I know of, including mediaeval French.
I wonder if, for a lengthy speech like this, if Shakespeare had stage instructions for how the crowd reacts to the various points in the speech. Do they hiss when Antony refers to Brutus as honorable, do they cheer at certain points, go silent at others?
That is an interesting question. I looked just now at the First Folio, which is said to be the only authoritative text, and could not find any stage directions, except for "Enter Mark Antony, with Caesars body," and "Exit Plebeians" when the crowd goes to burn the houses of the optimates. There are also the various remarks of Plebeians "1, 2, 3, and 4," which I left implicit in this speech.
beautiful
This is amazing.
Finally an Anthony speech 🎤 not cried like you are on drugs and fighting hobos on street.
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 answered 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.
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 disposed 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.
Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;
It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs,
For if you should, O, what would come of it!
Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile?
I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it.
I fear I wrong the honourable men
Whose daggers have stabbed Caesar; I do fear it.
You will compel me then to read the will?
Then make a ring about the corse of Caesar,
And let me show you him that made the will.
Shall I descend? And will you give me leave?
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle. I remember
The first time ever Caesar put it on;
'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii.
Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through;
See what a rent the envious Casca made;
Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed;
And as he plucked his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it,
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved
If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel.
Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all;
For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
Quite vanquished him. Then burst his mighty heart,
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statua,
Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourished over us.
O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity. These are gracious drops.
Kind souls, what weep you when you but behold
Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here,
Here is himself, marred, as you see, with traitors.
Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
They that have done this deed are honourable.
What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it. They are wise and honourable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts.
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.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the 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 Caesar's wounds, 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 Caesar that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
Why, friends, you go to do you know not what.
Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?
Alas, you know not; I must tell you then.
You have forgot the will I told you of.
Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal.
To every Roman citizen he gives,
To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
His private arbors, and new-planted orchards,
On this side Tiber; he hath left them you,
And to your heirs forever-common pleasures,
To walk abroad and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?
Thank you. Your Videos might be the only ones I do not speed up.
I love this!