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Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with
Lucius, a bowl of wine.
Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use,
Bru. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.
Cas. How scaped I killing, when I crossed you so?
Impatient of my absence,
Cas. And died so ?
Enter Lucius, with wine and tapers.
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. [Drinks.
Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA.
1 This circumstance is taken from Plutarch. It is also mentioned by Valerius Maximus, iv. 6. Portia is, however, reported by Pliny to have died at Rome of a lingering illness while Brutus was abroad.
Cas. Portia, art thou gone?
Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenor.
Mes. That by proscription, and bills of outlawry,
Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree ;
Cas. Cicero one?
Ay, Cicero is dead,
Bru. No, Messala.
That, methinks, is strange. Bru. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in
Mes. No, my lord.
Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell ;
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 art? as you, But yet my nature could not bear it so.
Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently?
Cas. I do not think it good.
1 i. e. at some time or other. VOL. VI.
2 In art, that is, in theory.
This it is. '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.
Hear me, good brother.
Then, with your will, go on;
Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk,
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.
O my dear brother!
Every thing is well.
Good night, good brother.
Farewell, every one. [Exeunt Cas., Tit., and Mes.
Re-enter Lucius, with the
gown. Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument ?
Luc. Here in the tent.
What, thou speak'st drowsily
Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS. Var. Calls
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.
Luc. Ay, my lord, an it please you.
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 murderous slumber ! Lay'st thou thy leaden maced upon my boy, That plays thee music ?—Gentle knave, good night! I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee. If thou dost nod, thou break’st thy instrument; I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night. Let me see, let me see.—Is not the leaf turned down, Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
[He sits down. Enter the Ghost of CÆSAR. 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 stare? Speak to me, what thou art. Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. Bru.
Why com’st thou ? Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Ay, at Philippi.
[Ghost vanishes. Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest. Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.
I A mace is the ancient term for a sceptre.
2 Shakspeare has on this occasion deserted his original. It does not appear from Plutarch that the ghost of Cæsar appeared to Brutus, but “ a wonderful straunge and monstrous shape of a body." In Plutarch's Life of Cæsar, it is called the ghost, and it is said that “the light of the lampe waxed very dimme."