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 came fuch Divifion 'tween our Souls;
Let it not, Brutus.

Enter Lucius with the Gown.

Bru. Every thing is well..

Caf. Good Night, my Lord.

Bru. Good Night, good Brother.

Tit. Meffa. Good Night, Lord Brutus !

Bru. Farewel, every one.

Give me the Gown. Where is thy Inftrument?
Luc. Here in the Tent.

Bru. What, thou fpeakeft drow fily?

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 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 fhall raife you by and by,

On Business to my Brother Caffius.

[Exeunt.

Var. So please you, we will ftand, and watch your Pleasure. Bru. I will not have it fo; lye down, good Sirs,

It may be I shall otherwife bethink mc.

Look Lucius, here's the Book I fought for fo;

I put it 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.
Canft thou hold up thy heavy Eyes a while,
And touch thy Inftrument, a ftrain 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 fhould not urge thy Duty paft thy Might,

I know young Bloods look for a time of Reft.
Luc. I have flept, my Lord, already.

Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt asleep again;
I will not hold thee long. If I do live,

I will be good to thee.

This is a fleepy Tune

[Mufick and a Song.

O murderous flumber!

Lay'ft thou thy Leaden Mace upon my Boy,
That plays thee Mufick? Gentle Knave, good Night;

I will not do thee fo much wrong to wake thee.
If thou doft nod, thou break'ft thy Inftrument,
I'll take it from thee, and, good Boy, good Night.
Let me fee, let me feet is not the Leaf turn'd down
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

[He fits down to read. Enter the Ghost of Cælar.

How ill this Taper burns! Ha! Who comes here?
I think it is the weakness of mine Eyes,
That shapes this monftrous Apparition.

It comes upon me; Art thou any thing?
Art thou fome God, fome Angel, or fome Devil,
That mak'ft my Blood cold, and my Hair to ftare?
Speak me to, what thou art?

Ghost. Thy evil Spirit, Brutus.

Bru. Why com'ft thou?

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

Bru. Why, I will fee thee at Philippi then;
Now I have taken heart, thou vanisheft,
Ill Spirit; I would hold more talk with thee.
Boy! Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs! awake!
Claudius!

Luc. The ftrings, my Lord, are falfe.

Bru. He thinks he is ftill at his Inftrument.

Lucias! awake.

Luc. My Lord!

[Exit Ghoft.

Bru. Didft thou dream, Lucius, that thou fo criedst

out?

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

Bru.

Bru. Yes, that thou didst; didft thou fee any thing?
Luc. Nothing, my Lord.

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

Var. My Lord!

Clau. My Lord!

Bru. Why did you fo cry out, Sirs, in your fleep?
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 Powers betimes before,

And we will follow.

Both. It shall be done, my Lord.

[Exeunt.

A CT V.

SCENE I.

SCENE the Fields of Philippi, with the two

Camps.

Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.

N

OW, Antony, our hopes are anfwered,
You faid 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 Bofoms, and I know
Wherefore they do it; they could be content
To vifit other Places, and come down
With fearful bravery; thinking by this Face
To faften in our thoughts that they have Courage.
But 'tis not fo.

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. Prepare you Generals,
The Enemy comes on in gallant fhew;

P 4

Their

Their bloody Sign of Battel is hung out,
And fomething to be done immediately.
Ant. Octavius, lead your Battel foftly on
Upon the left Hand of the even Field.
Octa. Upon the right Hand I, keep thou the left.
Ant. Why do you crcfs me in th's exigent?
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.

Caf. Stand faft, Titinius, we muft out and talk. Olta. Mark Antony, fhall we give fign of Battel? Ant. No, Cafar, we will answer on their Charge. Make forth, the Generals would have fome Words. Octa. Stir not until the Signal.

Bru. Words before Blows: is it fo, Countrymen? Octa. 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 pofture of your Blows are yet unknown;
But for your Words, they rob the Hibla Bees,
And leave them Honey-less.

Ant. Not ftringless too.

Bru. O yes, and foundless too;

For you have ftoln their buzzing, Antony,

And very wifely threat before you fting.

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

Hack'd one another in the fides of Cafar.

You fhew'd your Teeth like Apes, and fawn'd like Hounds, And bow'd like Bond-men, kiffing Cafar's Feet;

Whilft damned Caska, like a Cur, behind

Struck Cafar on the Neck. O you Flatterers!
Caf. Flatterers! Now Brutus thank your self;
This Tongue had not offended fo to day,

If Caffius might have rul'd.

Ota. Come, come, the Caufe. If arguing make us fweat, The proof of it will turn to redder Drops.

Behold, I draw a Sword againft Confpirators,

When

When think you that the Sword goes up again?
Never 'till Cafar's three and thirty Wounds
Be well aveng'd; or 'till another Cafar

Have added Slaughter to the Sword of Traitors.
Bru. Cafar, thou canst not dye by Traitors Hands,
Unless thou bring ft them with thee.

Oct. So I hope;

I was not born to dye on Brutus Sword.

Bru. O if thou wert the nobleft of thy ftrain, Young Man, thou couldst not dye more Honourable. Caf. A peevish School-boy, worthlefs of fuch Honour, Join'd with a Masker and a Reveller.

Ant. Old Caffius ftill.

Ot. Come, Antony, away;

Defiance, Traitors, hurl we in your Teeth, you dare fight to day, come to the Field,

If

If not, when you have Stomachs.

[Exit Octavius, Antony, and Arm).

Caf. Why now blow Wind, fwell Billow, and fwim Bark:

The Storm is up, and all is on the Hazard.

Bru. Ho, Lucilius,

Luc. My Lord.

Caf. Meffala.

-hark a word with you.

[Lucilius and Meffala ftand forth. [Brutus Speaks apart to Lucilius.

Mef. What fays my General?

Caf. Meffala, this is my Birth-Day; as this very Day Was Caffius born. Give me thy Hand, Meffala;

Be thou my Witnefs, that against my will,

As Pompey was, am I compell'd to fet

Upon one Battel all our Liberties.
You know that I held Epicurus ftrong,
And his Opinion; now I change my Mind,
And partly credit things that do prefage.
Coming from Sardis, on our foremoft Enfign,
Two mighty Eagles fell, and there they pearch'd,
Gorging and feeding from our Soldiers Hands,
Who to Philippi here conforted us:

This Morning are they fled away, and

gone,

And in their fteads, do Ravens, Crows and Kites,
Fly o'er our Heads, and downward look on us

As