Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

I will not hold thee long. If I do live,

I will be good to thee.

[Mufick and a Song. This is a fleepy tune-O murd'rous flumber! Lay'ft thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,

That plays the mufick?-Gentle knave, good night.
I will not do thee fo much wrong to wake thee.
If thou doft nod, thou break'ft thy inftrument,
I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night.
-But let me fee-is not the leaf turn'd down,
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

SCENE

[He fits down to read.

VII.

Enter the Ghost of Cæfar.

How ill this taper burns!-ha! who comes here?
I think, it is the weakness of mine eyes,
That shapes this monftrous apparition!

It comes upon me-Art thou any thing?
Art thou fome God, fome angel, or fome devil,
That mak'ft my blood cold, and my hair to ftare?
Speak to me, what thou art.

Ghoft. Thy evil fpirit, Brutus.

Bru. Why com'st thou?

Ghost. To tell thee, thou fhalt fee me at Philippi. Bru. Then, I fhall fee thee again.

Ghost. Ay, at Philippi.

[Exit Ghoft.

Bry. Why, I will fee thee at Philippi then.
Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest:
Ill Spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.
Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs! awake!
Claudius!

Luc. The ftrings, my Lord, are falfe.
Bru. He thinks, he is ftill at his inftrument.
Lucius! awake.

G3

Luc.

Luc. My Lord!

Bru. Didft thou dream, Lucius, that thou fo criedít Out?

Luc. My Lord, I do not know that I did cry. Bru. Yes, that thou didft; didst thou fee any thing?

Luc. Nothing, my Lord.

Bru. Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah, Claudius, fellow! Thou! awake.

Var. My Lord!

Clau. My Lord!

Bru. Why did you fo cry out, Sirs, in your fleep? Both. Did we, my Lord?

Bru. Ay, faw you any thing?

Var. No, my Lord, I faw nothing.

Clau. Nor I, my Lord.

Bru. Go, and commend me to my brother Caffius;

Bid him fet on his Pow'rs betimes before,

And we will follow.

Both. It fhall be done, my Lord.

[blocks in formation]

Exeunt.

[blocks in formation]

T

ACT V. SCENE I,

The Fields of Philippi, with the two Camps,

N

Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.

OCTAVIU Ș.

OW, Antony, our hopes are answered. You faid, the enemy would not come down, But keep the hills and upper regions; It proves not fo; 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 bofoms, and I know Wherefore they do it; they could be content To vifit other places, and come down With fearful bravery, thinking, by this face, To faften in our thoughts that they have courage, But 'tis not fo.

Enter a Meffenger,

Mef. Prepare you, Generals;
The enemy comes on in gallant fhew,
Their bloody fign of battle is hung out,
And fomething to be done immediately.
Ant. Octavius, lead your battle foftly on,

Upon the left hand of the even field.

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

9-warn us -] To warn to ali rm. Hanmer reads,

feems to mean here the fame as

They mean to wage us.

Ant. Why do you crofs me in this exigent?

Octa. 1 do not crofs you; but I will do fo. [March.

SCENE II.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Caffius, and their Army.

Bru. They ftand, and would have parley. Caf. Stand faft, Titinius. We muft out and talk. Octa. Mark Antony, fhall we give fign of battle? Ant. No, Cafar, we will anfwer on their charge. Make forth, the Generals would have fome words. Octa. Stir not until the fignal.

Bru. Words before blows. Is it fo, countrymen ? Ota. Not that we love words better, as you do. Bru. Good words are better than bad strokes, Оla. vius.

Ant. In your bad ftrokes, Brutus, you give good words.

Witnefs the hole you made in Cæfar's heart,
Crying, Long live! hail, Cafar!"
Caf. Antony,

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

Ant. Not ftinglefs too.

Bru. O yes, and foundless too:

For you have ftol'n their buzzing, Antory;
And very wifely threat, before you fting.

Ant. Villains! you did not fo, when your vile daggers Hack'd one another in the fides of Cæfar.

You fhew'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds, And bow'd like bond-men, kiffing Cafar's feet; Whilft damned Cafca, like a cur behind,

1

Cafea,-] Cafea ftruck Cafar on the neck, coming like a degenerate cur behind him.

Struck

Struck Cafar on the neck. O flatterers!
Caf. Flatterers! now Brutus, thank yourself;
This tongue
had not offended fo to-day,

If Caffius might have rul'd.

Octa. Come, come, the caufe. If arguing make us sweat,

The proof of it will turn to redder drops.
Behold, I draw a fword against confpirators;
When think you, that the fword goes up again?
Never, 'till Cæfar's three and twenty wounds
Be well aveng'd; or till another Cafar

2

Have added flaughter to the fword of traitors.
Bru. Cafar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands,
Unless thou bring'ft them with thee.

Oia. So I hope

I was not born to die on Brutus' fword.

Bru. O, if thou wert the nobleft of thy Strain, Young man, thou coulft not die more honourable. Caf. A peevifh fchool-boy, worthlefs of fuch ho

nour,

Join'd with a mafker and a reveller.

Ant. Old Caffius ftill!.

Octa. 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 ftomachs.

[Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and army.

2-three and thirty wounds] Thus all the editions implicitly; but I have ventur'd to reduce this number to three and twenty from the joint authorities of Ap

pian, Plutarch, and Suetonius : And, I am perfuaded, the error was not from the poet but his tranfcribers.

THEOBALD.

SCENE

« ZurückWeiter »