Bru. Why, farewel, Porcia-we must die, Messala. 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. Caf. I do not think it good. Bru. Your reafon? Caf. This it is: 'Tis better, that the enemy feek us; you think So fhall he wafte his means, weary his foldiers, Bru. Good reafons muft of force give place to better. For they have grudg'd us contribution. up, Come on refresht, new added, and encourag'd; These people at our back. Caf. Hear me, good brother Bru. Under your pardon.-You must note befide, That we have try'd the utmost of our friends, Our legions are brim full, our caufe is ripe; The enemy increaseth every day, We, at the height, are ready to decline. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; Or lofe our ventures. Caf. Then, with your will, go on: we will along Our felves, and meet them at Philippi. 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 Meffala, 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. Meffa. Good night, lord Bratus. Bru. Farewel, every one. [Exeunt Give me the Gown. Where is thy inftrument? Luc. Here, in the Tent. Bru. What, thou fpeak'ft drowfily? 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 cufhions 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 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: Look, Lucius, here's the book I fought for so; Luc. I was fure, your lordship did not give it me. Bru. Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. Bru. I fhould not urge thy duty paft thy might; Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt fleep again; This is a fleepy tune [Mufick and a Song. O murth'rous flumber! Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, Where I left reading? here it is, I think. [He fits down to read. Enter the Ghost of Cæfar. -ha! who comes here? How ill this taper burns!— I think, it is the weakness of mine eyes, That shapes this monstrous apparition ! It comes upon me- -Art thou any thing? Ghost. Thy evil fpirit, Brutus. Bru. Why com'ft thou? Ghoft. To tell thee, thou shalt fee me at Philippi. Bru. Then, I fhall fee thee again. Ghoft. Ay, at Philippi. [Exit Ghost. 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! Boy! Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs! awake! Luc. The ftrings, my lord, are falfe. Bru. He thinks, he is ftill at his inftrument. Lucius! awake. Luc. My lord! Bru. Didft thou dream, Lucius, that thou fo cried'st out? Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. Bru. Yes, that thou didft; didft thou fee any thing? Luc. Nothing, my lord. Bru. Sleep again, Lucius; firrah, Claudius, fellow! Varro! awake.' (16) Var. My lord! Bru. Why did you fo cry out, Sirs, in your sleep? 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. [Exeunt. (16) Thou! awake.] The Accent is fo unmufical and harm, 'tis impoffible, the Poet could begin his Verfe thus. Brutus, certainly, was intended to speak to Both his other Men: who Both awake, and answer, at an inftant. Mr. Warburton. SCENE, the Fields of Philippi, with the two Camps. Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army. NOW OCTAVIUS. OW, Antony, our hopes are answered. It proves not fo; their battles are at hand, Ant. Tut, I am in their bofoms, and I know Enter a Meffenger. Mef. Prepare you, Generals; Upon the left hand of the even field. Octa. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left. Octa. I do not cross you; but I will do fo. [March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Caffius, and their army. Bru. They ftand, and would have parley. |