Imatges de pàgina
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Caf. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
Fill, Lucius, 'till the wine o'er-fwell the cup;
I cannot drink too much of Brutus's love.

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

Now fit we close about this taper here,
And call in queftion our neceffities.
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.

Mef. My felf have letters of the felf-fame tenour.
Bru. With what addition?

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?
Bru. Nothing, Meffala.

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.

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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,
Doing himself offence; whilft we, lying ftill,
Are full of reft, defence and nimblenefs.

Bru. Good reasons muft of force give place to better.
The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground,
Do ftand but in a forc'd affection;

For they have grudg'd us contribution.
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them fhall make a fuller number

up;

Come on refresht, new added, and encourag'd;
From which advantage fhall we cut him off,
If at Philippi we do face him there,

These people at our back.

Caf. Hear me, good brother

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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.
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 miseries.
On fuch a full fea are we now a-float:

And we must take the current when it ferves,
Or lose 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 fay.

Caf. No more; good night;

Early to morrow will we rife, and hence.

Enter

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Enter Lucius.

Bru. Lucius, my gown; farewel, good Messala,
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. 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?
Luc. Ay, my lord, an't please you.

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,
That plays thee mufick? gentle knave, good night;
I will not do thee fo much wrong to wake thee.
If thou dost nod, thou break'ft thy inftrument,
I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night.
But let me fee-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 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?
Speak to me, what thou art.

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.
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 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.

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Bru. Sleep again, Lucius; "firrah, Claudius, fel

low!

Varro! awake. (30)

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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

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