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.

Bru. Every thing is well.

Cas. Good night, my lord.

Bru. Good night, good brother.
Tit. Mes. Good night, lord Brutus.
Bru. Farewell, every one.

[Exeunt CAS. TIT. and MES.

Re-enter LUCIUS, with the Gown.

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

ner.

Bru. Why, farewell, Portia.-We must die,
Messala:

With meditating that she must die once,"
I have the patience to endure it now.

Mes. Even so great men great losses should
endure.

Cas. I have as much of this in artt as you,
But yet my nature could not bear it so.

Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you
Of marching to Philippi presently?
Cas. I do not think it good.

Bru. Your reason?

Cas. This it is:

[think

'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 Phi-
Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our
And nature must obey necessity; [talk,
Which we will niggard with a little rest.
There is no more to say?

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

Luc. Here in the tent.

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

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.

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 consortedt 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
tience,

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.

Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in
Cas. Titinius, if thou lov'st me, [him,
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.

pa-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

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.
Bru. Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give
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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