Bru. Well, to our Work alive. What do you think

Of marching to Philippi presently.

Caf. I do not think it good.

Bru. Your Reason ?

Caf. This it is:

'Tis better that the Enemy seek us,

So shall he waste his means, weary his Soldiers,
Doing himself Offence, whilft we lying still,
Are full of reft, defence and nimbleness.

Bru. Good Reafsons 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 refresht, new added, and encourag'd;
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 beside,
That we have try'd the utmost of our Friends;
Our Legions are brim full, our Cause is ripe,
The Enemy encreaseth 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 Miferies.
On fuch a full Sea, are we now a-float,
And we must take the Current when it serves,
Or lofe our Ventures.

Caf. Then with your will go on; we will along
Our felves, and meet them at Philippi.

Bru. The deep of Night is crept upon our Talk,

And Nature must obey Neceffity,
Which we will niggard with a little Reft;
There is no more to say.

Caf. No more; good Night;

Early to Morrow will we rife, and hence.

Enter

Bru. Lucius, my Gown; farewel, good Messala,

Good Night, Titinius: Noble, Noble Caffius,

Good Night, and good Repose.

Caf. O my dear Brother!
This was an ill beginning of the Night,
Never came such Division 'tween our Souls;

Let it not, Brutus.

Enter Lucius with the Gown.

Cas. Good Night, my Lord.

Bru. Every thing is well.

Bru. Good Night, good Brother.

Tit. Messa. Good Night, Lord Brutus !

Bru. Farewel, every one.

Give me the Gown. Where is thy Instrument ?

Luc. Here in the Tent.

Bru. What, thou speakest drowsily ?

1

:

...:[Exeunt.

Poor Knave, I blame thee not, thou arto'er-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, lye in my Tent, and fleep,

It may be, I shall raise you by and by,

On Business to my Brother Caffius.

Var. So please you, we willstand, and watch your Pleasure.

Bru. I will not have it so; lye down, good Sirs,

It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.

Look Lucius, here's the Book I fought for fo;
I put in the Pocket of my Gown.

:

Luc. I was fure your Lordship did not give it me.
Bru. Bear with me, good Boy, I am much forgetful.

Canst thou hold up thy heavy Eyes a while,
And touch thy Instrument, a strain or two?

Luc. Ay, my Lord, an't 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 flept, my Lord, already.

Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again;

I will not hold thee long. If I do live,
I will be good to thee.

[Musick and a Song.

This is a fleepy Tune - O murderous slumber!
Lay'st thou thy Leaden Mace upon my Boy,
That plays thee Musick? 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 fee, let me fee? is not the Leaf turn'd down
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

[He sits down to read.

Enter the Ghost of Cæfar.
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'ft thou?

Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Bru. Well then I shall see thee again-
Ghost. Ay, at Philippi.

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! Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs! awake!
Claudius!

Luc. The strings, my Lord, are false.
Bru. He thinks he is still at his Instrument.

Lucius! awake.

Luc. My Lord!

[Exit Ghoft.

Bru. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst

out?

Luc. My Lord, I do not know that I did cry.

Bru.

Bru. Yes, that thou didst; didst thou see any thing?

Luc. Nothing, my Lord.

Bru. Sleep again, Lucius; Sirrah, Claudius, Fellow!

Thou! awake.

Var. My Lord!

Clan. My Lord!

Bru. Why did you so cry out, Sirs, in your sleep?

Both. Did we, my Lord?

Bru. Ay, faw you any thing

Var. No, my Lord, I faw nothing.

Clan. Nor I, my Lord.

Bru. Go, and commend me to my Brother Caffius;

Bid him set on his Powers betimes before,

And we will follow,

Both. It shall be done, my Lord.

ACT V. SCENE I.

[Excunt.

SCENE the Fields of Philippi, with the two Camps.

Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.

OW, Antony, our hopes are answered,
You said the Enemy would not come down,

But keep the Hills and upper Regions;
It proves not fo; their Battels are at hand,
They mean to warn us at Philippi here,
Answering before we do demand of them.

Ant. Tut I am in their Bosoms, and I know
Wherefore they do it; they could be content
To visit other Places, and come down
With fearful bravery; thinking by this Face
To fasten in our thoughts that they have Courage.
But 'tis not so.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Prepare you Generals,

The Enemy comes on in gallant shew;

P4

Their

Their bloody Sign of Battel is hung out,
And fomething to be done immediately.

Ant. Octavius, lead your Battel softly on

Upon the left Hand of the even Field.
Osta. Upon the right Hand I, keep thou the left.
Ant. Why do you cross me in this 'exigent ?
Ofta. I do not cross you; but I will doso.

[March.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Caffius, and their Army.
Bru. They stand, and would have Parley.
Caf. Stand fast, Titinius, we must out and talk.
Octa. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of Battel?
Ant. No, Cafar, we will answer on their Charge.
Make forth, the Generals would have some Words.
Octa. Stir not until the Signal.

Bru. Words before Blows: is it so, Countrymen?
Ofta. Not that we love Words better, as you do.
Bru. Good Words are better than bad Strokes, Octavius.
Ant. In your bad Strokes, Brutus, you give good Words.

Witness the hole you made in Cafar's Heart,
Crying, Long live, hail Cafar.

Caf. Antony,

The posture of your Blows are yet unknown;
But for your Words, they rob the Hibla Bees,

And leave them Honey-less.

Ant. Not stringless too.

Bru. O yes, and soundless too;

For you have stoln their buzzing, Antony,

And very wifely threat before you fting.

Ant. Villains! you did not so, when your vile Daggers

Hack one another in the fides of Cafar.

You shew'd your Teeth like Apes, and fawn'd like Hounds,
And bow'd like Bond-men, kissing Cafar's Feet;
Whilft damned Caska, like a Cur, behind
Struck Cafar on the Neck. O you Flatterers!

Caf. Flatterers! Now Brutus thank your felf;

This Tongue had not offended so to day,

If Caffius might have rul'd.

Ofta. Come, come, the Cause. If arguing make us swet,

The proof of it will turn to redder Drops.

Behold, I draw a Sword against Conspirators,

.

When