Luc. within. You fhall not come to them. Enter Poet. Caf. How now? what's the matter? Poet. For fhame, you Generals; what do you mean? Love, and be friends, as two fuch men should be ; For I have seen more years, I'm fure, than ye. Caf. Ha, ha-how vilely doth this Cynick rhime! Bru. Get you hence, firrah; faucy fellow, hence. Caf Bear with him, Brutus, 'tis his fashion. Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time; What should the wars do with these jingling fools? Companion, hence. Caf. Away, away, begone. Enter Lucilius, and Titinius. [Exit Poet. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night. Caf. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you Immediately to us. [Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius. Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine. Caf. I did not think, you could have been fo angry. Bru. Caffius, I am fick of many griefs. Caf. Of your philofophy you make no ufe, If you give place to accidental evils. Bru. No man bears forrow better-Porcia's dead. Caf. Ha! Porcia!. Bru. She is dead. Caf. How 'fcap'd I killing, when I croft you fo? O infupportable and touching lofs ! Upon what fickness? Bru. Impatient of my abfence; And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have made themselves fo ftrong: (for with her death That tydings came) With this the fell distract, And (her Attendants absent) swallow'd fire. Caf. And dy'd fo? Bru. Bru. Even fo. Caf. O ye immortal Gods! Enter Boy with Wine and Tapers. Bru. Speak no more of her: give me a bowl of wine. In this I bury all unkindness, Caffius. Caf. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. Fill, Lucius, 'till the wine o'er-fwell the cup; I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. Bra. Come in, Titinius [Drinks. welcome, good Meffala. Enter Titinius, and Meffala. Now fit we clofe about this taper here, Mej. Myfelf have letters of the felf-fame tenour. : Bru. With what addition ? . Mef. That by Profcription and bills of Outlawry, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus Have put to death an hundred Senators. Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree; Mine speak of fev'nty Senators that dy'd By their Profcriptions, Cicero being one. Caf. Cicero one? Mef. Cicero is dead; and by that order of profcription. Had you your letters from your wife, my Lord? Bru. No, Meffala. Mef. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her? Mef. That, methinks, is ftrange. Bru. Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours? Mef. No, my Lord. Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. Mef. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell; For certain fhe is dead, and by strange manner. Bru. Bru. Why, farewel, Porcia-we muft die, Meffala. With meditating that the muft die once, I have the patience to endure it now. Mef. Ev'n fo great men great loffes fhould endure. But yet my nature could not bear it fo. Bru. Well, to our Work alive. Of marching to Philippi prefently? Bru. Your reason ? Caf. This it is: "Tis better, that the enemy feek us; What do you think So fhall he waste his means, weary his foldiers, Are full of rest, defence and nimbleness. Bru. Good reafons muft of force give place to better. For they have grudg'd us contribution. Come on refresh'd, new added, and encourag'd; These people at our back. Caf, Hear me, good brother Bru. Under your pardor.-You must note befide, That we have try'd 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; And we must take the current when it ferves, Or lofe our ventures. Caf. Then, with your will, go on: we will along Ourselves, and meet them at Philippi. 5 Bru. Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, Which we will niggard with a little rest. Caf. No more; good night; Early to-morrow will we rife, and hence. Enter Lucius. Bru. Lucius, my gown; farewel, good Messala, Caf. O my dear brother! This was an ill beginning of the night: Enter Lucius with the Gown. Bru. Ev'ry thing is well. Tit. Mef. Good night, Lord Brutus. Bru. Farewel, every one. Give me the Gown. Where is thy inftrument? Luc. Here, in the Tent. Bru. What, thou speak'st drowfily? [Exeunt. Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'er-watch'd. Call Claudius, and fome other of my men; I'll have them fleep 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 fleep; It may be, I fhall raise you by and by, On business to my brother Caffius. Var. So please you, we will ftand, and watch your pleasure, Bru. I will not have it fo; lie down, good Sirs: It may be, I shall otherwise bethink me. Look, Lucius, here's the book I fought for fo; I put it in the pocket of my gown. Luc. I was fure, your Lordship did not give it me. Bru. Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. And touch thy inftrument, a ftrain or two? I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. Bru. I fhould not urge thy duty past thy might; Bru. It was well done, and thou fhalt sleep again; I will be good to thee. [Mufick and a Song. -O murd'rous flumber! Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee mufick? gentle knave, good night. Where I left reading? here it is, I think. [He fits down to read. Enter the Ghost of Cæfar. How ill this taper burns! -ha! who comes here? 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 ? Ghoft. Thy evil fpirit, Brutus. Bru. Why com'st thou? Ghoft. To tell thee, thou fhalt fee me at Philippi. Ghoft. Ay, at Philippi. [Exit Ghoft. Bru. 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! |