-

Cas.

'Tis better that the enemy seek us;

This it is.

So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,

Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,

Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.

Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.

The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground,

Do stand but in a forced affection;

For they have grudged us contribution.

The enemy, marching along by them,

By them shall 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.

Cas.

Hear me, good brother.

Bru. Under your pardon. You must note beside,

That we have tried the utmost of our friends.
Our legions are brim full, 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 shallows, and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.

Cas.

Then, with your will, go on ;

We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.
Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk,

And nature must obey necessity;

Which we will niggard with a little rest.

There is no more to say?

Cas.

No more.

Good night;

Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.

Bru. Lucius, my gown. [Exit LUCIUS.] Farewell,

good Messala ;

Good night, Titinius :-Noble, noble Cassius,

Good night, and good repose.

Cas.

O my dear brother !

This was an ill beginning of the night:

Never come such division 'tween our souls!

Re-enter Lucius, with the gown.

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

Luc. Here in the tent.

Bru.

What, thou speak'st drowsily

Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'erwatched.

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, lie in my tent, and sleep;

It may be I shall raise you by and by

On business to my brother Cassius.

Var. So please you, we will stand, and watch your

pleasure.

Bru. I will not have it so: lie down, good sirs ;

It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.
Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so;

I put it in the pocket of my gown.

i

[Servants lie down.

Luc. I was sure your lordship did not give it me.
Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

Luc. Ay, my lord, an it 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 slept, my lord, already.

Bru. It is well done; and thou shalt sleep again;

I will not hold thee long; if I do live,

I will be good to thee.

[Music, and a song.

This is a sleepy tune :- murderous slumber !
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace1 upon my boy,
That plays thee music? - 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 see, let me see. Is not the leaf turned down,

Where I left reading?

Here it is, I think.

Enter the Ghost of CÆSAR.

[He sits down.

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'st thou ?

Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Bru. Well;

Then I shall see thee again? 2
Ghost.

Ay, at Philippi.

[Ghost vanishes.

Bru. Why, I will see 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 still is at his instrument.

Lucius, awake.

Luc. My lord!

Bru. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so cried'st

out?

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

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.

Clau. My lord.

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

Var. Clau. Did we, my lord?

Bru.

Ay; saw you any thing?

Var. No, my lord, I saw nothing.
Clau.

Nor I, my lord.

Bru. Go, and commend me to my brother Cassius;

Bid him set on his powers betimes before,

And we will follow.

Var. Clau.

It shall be done, my lord.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I. The Plains of Philippi.

Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their Army.

Oct. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered.
You said the enemy would not come down,
But keep the hills and upper regions.
It proves not so; their battles are at hand;

They mean to warn1 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.

Mess.

Enter a Messenger.

Prepare you, generals.

The enemy comes on in gallant show;
Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
And something to be done immediately.
Ant. Octavius, lead your battle softly on,
Upon the left hand of the even field.

Oct. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.
Ant. Why do you cross me in this exigent?
Oct. I do not cross you; but I will do so. [March.

Drum. Enter BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and their Army; LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, and others.

Bru. They stand, and would have parley.
Cas. Stand fast, Titinius. We must out and talk.
Oct. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?
Ant. No, Cæsar, we will answer on their charge.
Make forth, the general would have some words.
Oct. Stir not until the signal.

Bru. Words before blows; is it so, countrymen ?
Oct. 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 Cæsar's heart,
Crying, Long live! hail, Cæsar!