Imatges de pàgina
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Caf. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rath humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Caffius, and from henceforth

When you are over-earneft with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you fo.
[A Noife within.
Poet within. Let me go in to fee the generals;
There is fome grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet
They be alone.

Luc. within. You fhall not come to them.
Poet within. Nothing but death fhall stay me.
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 fhould be; For I have feen more years, I'm fure, than ye.

Cf. Ha, ha---how vilely doth this Cynic rhime!
Bru. Get you hence, firrah; faucy fellow, hence.
Gaf. Bear with him, Brutus, 'tis his fafhion.
Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his
time;

What fhould the wars do with thefe jingling fools?
Companion, hence.

Caf. Away, away, be gone.

[Exit Poet.

Enter LUCILIUS and TITINIUS.

Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

Caf. And come yourfelves, and bring Meffala

with you

Immediately to us.

[Exeunt Lucius and Titinius.

Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine.

Caf. I did not think you could have been fo angry. Bru. O Caffius, I am fick of many griefs.

Caf. Of your philofophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. Noman bears forrow better---Porcia's dead. Caf. Ha! Porcia !.

Bru. She is dead.

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Caf. How 'fcaped I killing, when I crofs'd 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 themfelves fo ftrong: (for with her death

That tidings came) With this fhe fell diftract,
And (her attendants abfent) fwallowed fire.
Caf. And died fo?

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 unkindnefs, Caffius.

[Drinks. Caf. My heart is thirfly for that noble pledge.. Fill, Lucius, 'till the wine o'erfwell the cup; I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love.

Bru. Come in, Titinius ;--welcome, good Meffala.
Enter TITINIUS and MESSALA.

Now fit we clofe about this taper here,
And call in queftion our neceflities.
Caf. Oh Porcia! art thou gone?
Bru. No more, I pray you.---
Meffala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius and Mark Antony
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition tow'rd Philippi.

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Mef. Myfelf have letters of the self-fame tenor. Bru. With what addition?

Mef. That by profcription and bills of outlawry Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus

Have put to death an hundred fenators.

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;
Mine fpeak of feventy fenators that died
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? Bru. Nothing, Meffala.

Mef. That, methinks, is ftrange.

Bru. Why afk you? hear you ought of her in Mef. No, my Lord.

[yours? 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 ftrange manner. Bru. Why, farewel, Porcia--we muft die, Meffala. With meditating that fhe muft die once,

I have the patience to endure it now.

Mef. Even fo great men great loffes thould endure, Caf. I have as much of this in art as you, But yet my nature could not bear it fo.

Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently?

Caf. I do not think it good.

Bru. Your reafon.

Caf. This it is:

'Tis better that the enemy feek us;

So fhall he wafte his means, weary his foldiers,
Doing himself offence; whilft we, lying ftill,

Are full of reft, defence, and nimblenefs.

Bru. Good reafons muft of force give place to The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground [better. Do ftand but in a forced affection;

For they havé grudged us contribution.
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them fhall make a fuller number up,
Come on refreshed, new added, and encouraged;
From which advantage shall we cut him off,
If at Philippi we do face him there,

These people at our back.

Caf. Hear me, good-brother---

Bru. Under your pardon. --You must note, beThat we have tried the utmost of our friends; [fides, Our legions are brimful, 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 fhallows and in miferies.
On fuch a full fea are we now a-float,

And we must take the current when it ferves,
Or lofe our ventures.

Caf. Then, with your will, go on: we will along Qurfelves, and meet them at Philippi.

Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And nature muft obey neceffity;

Which we will niggard with a little rest.

There is no more to say.

Caf. No more; good night;--

Early to-morrow will we rife, and hence.

Enter LUCIUS.

Bru. Lucius, my gown; farewel, good Meffala. Good-night, Titinius: noble, noble Caffius, Good-night, and good repofe.

Caf. O my dear brother!

This was an ill beginning of the night:

Never come fuch divifion 'tween our fouls;

Let it not, Brutus !

Enter LUCIUS with the Gown.

Bru. Every thing is well.

Tit. Mef. Good night, Lord Brutus.

Bru. Farewel every one.

[Exeunt.

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

Luc. Here, in the tent.

Bru. What, thou fpeakeft drowsily.

Poor knave, I blame thee not: thou art o'erwatched.
Call Claudius, and fome other of my men;
I'll have them fleep on cufhions in my tent.
Luc. Varro, and Claudius !-----

It

Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS.

Var. Calls my Lord?

Bru. I pray you, Sirs, ly in my tent, and fleep; may be I fhall raife 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; ly down, good Sirs: It may be I fhall otherwife bethink me.

Look, Lucius, here's the book I fought for fo; put it in the pocket of my gown.

I

Luc. I was fure your Lordship did not give it me. Bru Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetCan't thou hold up thy heavy eyes a-while, [ful, And touch thy inftrument a ftrain or two?

Luc. Ay, my Lord, an't pleafe you.

Bru. It does, my boy;

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
Luc. It is my duty, Sir."

VOL. X.

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