No Fear Shakespeare: Julius Caesar: Act 3 Scene 1 Page 10

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ANTONY I doubt not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand. 195 (shakes hands with the conspirators) First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you. —Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand. —Now, Decius Brutus, yours.—Now yours, Metellus. —Yours, Cinna.—And, my valiant Casca, yours. 200—Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius. —Gentlemen all, alas, what shall I say? My credit now stands on such slippery ground That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward or a flatterer 205—That I did love thee, Caesar, O, ’tis true. If then thy spirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death To see thy Antony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes— 210Most noble!—in the presence of thy corse? 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. 215Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bayed, brave hart; Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, Signed in thy spoil, and crimsoned in thy lethe. O world, thou wast the forest to this hart, And this indeed, O world, the heart of thee. 220How like a deer, strucken by many princes, Dost thou here lie!	ANTONY I don’t doubt your wisdom. Each of you, give me your bloody hand. (he shakes hands with the conspirators) First, Marcus Brutus, I shake your hand. Next, Caius Cassius, I take your hand. Now, Decius Brutus, yours. Now yours, Metellus. Yours, Cinna. And yours, my brave Casca. Last but not least, yours, good Trebonius. You are all gentlemen—alas, what can I say? Now that I’ve shaken your hands, you’ll take me for either a coward or a flatterer—in either case, my credibility stands on slippery ground. It’s true that I loved you, Caesar—nothing could be truer. If your spirit is looking down upon us now, it must hurt you more than even your death to see your Antony making peace—shaking the bloody hands of your enemies—in front of your corpse. If I had as many eyes as you have wounds, and they wept as fast as your wounds stream blood—even that would be more becoming than joining your enemies in friendship. Forgive me, Julius! On this very spot you were hunted down, like a brave deer. And here you fell, where your hunters are now standing. The spot is marked by your death and stained by your blood. Oh world, you were the forest to this deer, and this deer, oh world, was your dear. Now you lie here, stabbed by many princes!
CASSIUS Mark Antony—	CASSIUS Mark Antony—
ANTONY Pardon me, Caius Cassius. The enemies of Caesar shall say this; 225Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.	ANTONY Pardon me, Caius Cassius. Even Caesar’s enemies would say the same. From a friend, it’s a cool assessment—no more than that.