Caf. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. Bru. Come in, Titinius ;- welcome, good Meffata. Now fit we close about this taper here, Meffala, I have here received letters, Mef. My felf have letters of the felf-fame tenour. Mef. That by Profcription and bills of Outlawry, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus Have put to death an hundred Senators. Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree, Mine fpeak of fev'nty Senators, that dy'd 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? Mef. That, methinks, is ftrange. Bru. Why ask you? hear you ought of her in yours Mef. No, my lord, Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. Mef. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell i For certain fhe is dead, and by ftrange manner. Bru. Why, farewel Porcia we muft die, Meffala: With meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now. Mef. Ev'n fo great men great loffes fhould endure. Caf. I have as much of this in art as you, But yet my nature could not bear it fo. Bru. Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi prefently? Caf. I do not think it good. Bru. Your reason? Caf. This it is: 'Tis better, that the enemy feek us; So fhall he wafte his means, weary his foldiers, Bru. Good reasons muft of force give place to better. For they have grudg'd us contribution. up; Come on refresht, new added, and encourag'd; These people at our back. Caf. Hear me, good brother Bru. Under your pardon. You must note befide; That we have try'd the utmoft of our friends; Our legions are brim-full, our caufe is ripe; The enemy encreaseth every day, We, at the height, are ready to decline. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; And we must take the current when it ferves, Caf. Then, with your will, go on: we will along Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, Which we will niggard with a little reft. Caf. No more; good night; Early to morrow will we rife, and hence. Enter Enter Lucius. Bru. Lucius, my gown; farewel, good Messala, Caf. O my dear brother! This was an ill beginning of the night: Enter Lucius with the Gown. Bru. Ev'ry thing is well. Tit. Meffa. 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 fpeak'ft 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, lie in my Tent, and fleep; It may be, I fhall raise 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; lie down, good Sirs : It may be, I fhall otherwise bethink me. 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? Bru. It does, my boy; I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. Luc. Luc. It is my duty, Sir. Bru. I fhould not urge thy duty past 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 fleep 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 murd'rous flumber! Lay'ft thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, [He fits 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, r That shapes this monstrous 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? Ghoft. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. Bru. Why com'ft thou? Ghoft. To tell thee, thou fhalt fee me at Philippi. Bru. Then, I fhall fee thee again. Ghoft. Ay, at Philippi. [Exit Ghoft. Bru. Why, I will fee thee at Philippi then. Luc. The ftrings, my lord, are false. Bru. He thinks, he ftill is at his inftrument. Lucius! awake. Luc. My lord! VOL. VI. O Bru Bru. Didft thou dream Lucius, that thou fo cried'ft out? Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. Bru. Yes, that thou didft; 'didft thou fee any thing? Luc. Nothing, my lord. Bru. Sleep again, Lucius; "firrah, Claudius, fel low! Varro! awake. (30) Var. My lord! Clau. My lord! Bru. Why did you fo cry out, Sirs, in your sleep? Both. Did we, my lord? Bra. 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. Pow'rs betimes before, And we will follow. Both. It shall be done, my lord. [Exeunt. (30) Thou! awake.] The Accent is fo unmufical and harfh, 'tis impoffible, the Poet could begin his Verfe thus. Brutus, certainly, was intended to speak to Both his other Men; who Both awake, Mr. Warburton. and answer, at an instant. ACT |