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Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,

Dash him to pieces!

Cus. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Cus. I did not :-he was but a fool,

That brought my answer back.-Brutus hath riv'd my heart:

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me. Cas. You love me not.

Bru. I do not like your faults.

Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults.

Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear

As huge as high Olympus.

Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius! [come, For Cassius is aweary of the world: Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother: Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observ'd, [rote, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by To cast unto my teeth. O, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold: If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike, as thou didst at Cesar; for, I know, When thou didst hate him worse, thou lov'dst him better

Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius.

Bru. Sheath your dagger:

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb
That carries anger, as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Cas. Hath Cassius liv'd

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.

Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your
hand.

Bru. And my heart too.
Cas. O Brutus!-

Bru. What's the matter?

Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with

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Cas. Cicero one?

Mess. Ay, Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord? Bru. No, Messala.

Mes. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her? Bru. Nothing, Messala.

Mes. That, methinks, is strange.

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Bru. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

in yours?

Mes. No, my lord.

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me

true.

Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell: For certain she is dead, and by strange man

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'Tis better, that the enemy seek us:
So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,
Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.

Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.

The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground,
Do stand but in a forc'd affection;
For they have grudg'd us contribution:
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them shall make a fuller number up,
Come on refresh'd, new-added, and encour-
ag'd;

From which advantage shall we cut him off,
If at Philippi we do face him there,
These people at our back.

Cas. Hear me, good brother.

Bru. Under your pardon.-You must note beside,

That we have tried the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe:
The enemy increaseth every day,
We, at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows, and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.

Cas. Then, with your will, go on; [lippi. We'll along ourselves, and meet them at PhiBru. The deep of night is crept upon our And nature must obey necessity; Which we will niggard with a little rest. There is no more to say?

[talk,

Cas. No more. Good night; Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence. Bru. Lucius, my gown. [Exit LUCIUS.] Farewell, good Messala;

Good night, Titinius :-Noble, noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose.

Cas. O my dear brother!

This was an ill beginning of the night: Never come such division 'tween our souls! Let it not, Brutus.

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Luc. Here in the tent.

Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily? Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'er.

watch'd.

Call Claudius, and some other of my men; I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent. Luc. Varro, and Claudius!

Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS.

Var. Calls my lord?

Bru. I pray you, Sirs, lie in my tent, and sleep;

It may be, I shall raise you by and by
On business to my brother Cassius.

Var. So please you, we will stand, and watch your pleasure.

Bru. I will not have it so: lie down, good Sirs;

It may be, I shall otherwise bethink me. Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so I put it in the pocket of my gown.

[SERVANTS lie down.

Luc. I was sure, your lordship did not give it me.

Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
Luc. Ay, my lord, an it please you.
Bru. It does, my boy:

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
Luc. It is my duty, Sir.

Bru. I should not urge thy duty past thy might;

I know, young bloods look for a time of rest. Luc. I have slept, my lord, already.

Bru. It is well done; and thou shalt sleep

again;

I will not hold thee long: if I do live, I will be good to thee. [Music, and a Song This is a sleepy tune:-O murd'rous slumber! Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee music?-Gentle knave, good I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee. night; If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument; I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good Let me see, let me see;-Is not the leaf turn'd night. [down, Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. [He sits down.

Enter the GHOST of CESAR. How ill this taper burns!-Ha! who comes here?

I think, it is the weakness of mine eyes,
That shapes this monstrous apparition.
It comes upon me:-Art thou any thing?
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to
Speak to me, what thou art.
[stare?

Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
Bru. Why com'st thou?
Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt see me at
Philippi.

* Sceptre.

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SCENE I.-The Plains of Philippi. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their Army. Oct. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered: You said, the enemy would not come down, But keep the hills and upper regions; It proves not so; their battles are at hand; They mean to warn us at Philippi here, Answering before we do demand of them..

Ant. Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know Wherefore they do it: they could be content To visit other places; and come down With fearful bravery, thinking, by this face, To fasten in our thoughts that they have courBut 'tis not so.

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mess. Prepare you, generals: The enemy comes on in gallant show; Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, And something to be done immediately.

[age;

Ant. Octavius, lead your battle softly on, Upon the left hand of the even field.

Oct. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.

Ant. Why do you cross me in this exigent? Oct. I do not cross you; but I will do so. [March. Drum. Enter BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and their Army; LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, and others.

Bru. They stand, and would have parley. Cas. Stand fast, Titinius: We must out and talk.

Oct. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?

⚫ Summon.

Ant. No, Cesar, we will answer on their charge. [words. Make forth, the generals would have some Oct. Stir not until the signal.

Bru. Words before blows: Is it so, country

men?

Oct. Not that we love words better, as you do.

Bru. Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.

Ant. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words:

Witness the hole you made in Cesar's heart, Crying, Long live! hail, Cesar!

Cas. Antony,

The posture of your blows are yet unknown; But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless.

Ant. Not stingless too.

Bru. O, yes, and soundless too;
For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony,
And, very wisely, threat before you sting.

Ant. Villains, you did not so, when your vile daggers

Hack'd one another in the sides of Cesar: You show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds, [feet; And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Cesar's Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind, Struck Cesar on the neck. O flatterers!

Cas. Flatterers!-Now, Brutus, thank your

self:

This tongue had not offended so to-day,
If Cassius might have rul'd.

Oct. Come, come, the cause: If arguing
make us sweat,

The proof of it will turn to redder drops.
Look;

I draw a sword against conspirators;
When think you that the sword goes up a-
gain?-

Never, till Cesar's three and twenty wounds
Be well aveng'd; or till another Cesar
Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
Bru. Cesar, thou can'st not die by traitors,
Unless thou bring'st them with thee.
Oct. So I hope;

I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.
Bru. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
Young man, thou could'st not die more hon-
ourable.

Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such
honour,

Join'd with a masker and a reveller.
Ant. Old Cassius still!

Oct. Come, Antony; away.

Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth:
If you dare fight to-day, come to the field;
If not, when you have stomachs.

[Exeunt OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their
Army.

Cas. Why now, blow, wind; swell, billow; The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. and swim, bark!

Bru. Ho!

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Upon one battle all our liberties.
You know, that I held Epicurus strong,
And his opinion: now I change my mind,
And partly credit things that do presage.
Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch'd,
Gorging and feeding from our soldier's hands;
Who to Philippi here consorted us;
This morning are they fled away, and gone;
And in their steads, do ravens, crows, and
kites,

Fly o'er our heads, and downward look on us,
As we were sickly prey; their shadows seem
A canopy most fatal, under which
Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.
Mes. Believe not so.

Cas. I but believe it partly;

For I am fresh of spirit, and resolv'd
To meet all perils very constantly.
Bru. Even so, Lucilius.

Cus. Now, most noble Brutus,

The gods to-day stand friendly; that we may,
Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!
But, since the affairs of men rest still uncer-
tain,

Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
If we do lose the battle, then is this
The very last time we shall speak together:
What are you then determined to do?

Bru. Even by the rule of that philosophy,
By which I did blame Cato for the death
Which he did give himself:-I know not how,
But I do find it cowardly and vile,
For fear of what might fall, so to prevent
The time of life:-arming myself with pa-
tience,

To stay the providence of some high powers,
That govern us below.

Cas. Then, if we lose this battle,
You are contented to be led in triumph
Thorough the streets of Rome?

Bru. No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble
Roman,

That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
He bears too great a mind. But this same day
Must end that work, the ides of March begun;
And whether we shall meet again, I know not.
Therefore our everlasting farewell take:-
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius!
If we do meet again, why we shall smile;
If not, why then this parting was well made.
Cas. For ever, and for ever, farewell, Bru-
tus!

If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;
If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made.
Bru. Why then, lead on.-O, that a man
might know

The end of this day's business, ere it come!
But it sufficeth, that the day will end,
And then the end is known.-Come, ho! away!
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.-The same.-The Field of Battle.
Alarum.-Enter BRUTUS and MESSALA.

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Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;
Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord!
Fly therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.

Cas. This hill is far enough. Look, look, Ti-
tinius;

Are those my tents, where I perceive the fire?
Tit. They are, my lord.

Cas. Titinius, if thou lov'st me, [him,
Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in
Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops,
And here again; that I may rest assur'd,
Whether yond' troops are friend or enemy.
Tit. I will be here again, even with a thought.

[Exit.

Cas. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill;
And tell me what thou not'st about the field.-
My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,
[Exit PINDARUS.

And where I did begin, there I shall end;,
This day I breathed first: time is come round,
My life is run his compass.-Sirrah, what

news?

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Stand not to answer: Here, take thou the hilts;
And when my face is cover'd as tis now,
Guide thou the sword.-Cesar, thou art re-
veng'd,

Bru. Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give Even with the sword that kill'd thee. [Dies. Pin. So, I am free; yet would not so have been,

these billst

Unto the legions on the other side:

[Loud Alarum. Let them set on at once; for I perceive But cold demeanour in Octavius' wing, And sudden push gives them the overthrow. Ride, ride, Messala: let them all come down. [Exeunt.

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Durst I have done my will. O Cassius!
Far from this country Pindarus shall run,
Where never Roman shall take note of him.
[Erit.

Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA.
Mes. It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius
Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,
As Cassius' legions are by Antony.

Tit. These tidings will well comfort Cassius.
Mes. Where did you leave him?

Tit. All disconsolate,

With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.
Mes. Is not that he, that lies upon the ground?
Tit. He lies not like the living. O my heart!
Mes. Is not that he?

Tit. No, this was he, Messala,
But Cassius is no more.-O setting sun!
As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night,
So in his red blood Cassius' day is set;
The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone;
Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds
are done!

Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.
Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done

this deed.

O hateful error, melancholy's child!
Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men
The things that are not? O error, soon con-
ceiv'd,

Thou never com'st unto a happy birth,
But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee.
Tit. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pin-
darus?

Mes. Seek him, Titinius: whilst I go to meet
The noble Brutus, thrusting this report
Into his ears: may say, thrusting it;
For piercing steel, and darts envenomed,
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus,
As tidings of this sight.

Tit. Hie you, Messala,

And I will seek for Pindarus the while.
[Exit MESSALA.
Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?
Did I not meet thy friends? and did not they
Put on my brows this wreath of victory,
And bid me give't thee? Didst thou not hear
their shouts ?

Alas, thou hast misconstrued every thing.
But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
Will do his bidding.-Brutus, come apace,
And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.-
By your leave, gods:-This is a Roman's part:
Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart.
[Dies.
Alarum. Re-enter MESSALA, with BRUTUS,
young CATO, STRATO, VOLUMNIUS, and LUCI-

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SCENE IV. Another part of the Field. Alarum-Enter, fighting, Soldiers of both Armies; then BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and others.

Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!

Cato. What bastard doth not? Who will go
with me?

I will proclaim my name about the field:-
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

[Charges the Enemy.
Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, 1;
Brutus, my country's friend; know me for
Brutus.

[Exit, charging the Enemy. CATO is overpowered, and falls.

Luc. O young and noble Cato, art thou
down?

Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius; -
And may'st be honour'd being Cato's son.

1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest.
Luc. Only I yield to die:
There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight;
[Offering Money.

Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.
1 Sold. We must not.-A noble prisoner!
2 Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is
ta'en.

1 Sold. I'll tell the news.-Here comes the
general:-

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A prize no less in worth: keep this man safe,
Give him all kindness: I had rather have
Such men my friends, than enemies. Go on,
And see whe'r Brutus be alive, or dead:
And bring us word unto Octavius' tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Another part of the Field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, Strato, and VOLUMNIUS.

Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.

Cli. Statilius show'd the torch-light; but, my lord,

He came not back; he is or ta'en, or slain. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: Slaying is the word;

It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.[Whispering.

Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the
world.

Bru. Peace then, no words.
Cli. I'll rather kill myself.

Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius! [Whispers him.
Dar. I do such a deed?
Cli. O, Dardanius!
Dar. Ó, Clitus!

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to
thee?

* Whether.

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