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.

0 my dear brother!

This was an ill beginning of the night:

Never come such division 'tween our souls!

Farewell, every one.

[Exeunt CAS. TIT. and MES.

Tit. Mes. Good night, Lord Brutus.

Bru.

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'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, 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.

[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.

16

[Musick, and a Song. This is a sleepy tune:-O murd'rous slumber! Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays the 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 see, let me see ;-Is not the leaf turn'd down, Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

16 A mace is the ancient term for a sceptre :·

proud Tarquinius

[He sits down.

Rooted from Rome the sway of kingly mace.'

Marius and Scylla, 1594.

Shakspeare probably remembered Spenser in his Faerie Queene,

b. i. c. iv. st. 44:

'When as Morpheus had with leaden mace
Arrested all that courtly company.'

Enter the Ghost of CESAR.

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 17?

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 cry'dst out?

17 Shakspeare has on this occasion deserted his original. It does not appear from Plutarch that the ghost of Cæsar appeared to Brutus, but a wonderful straunge and monstrous shape of a body.' This apparition could not be at once the shade of Cæsar and the evil genius of Brutus. See the story of Cassius Parmensis in Valerius Maximus, lib. i. c. vii. Shakspeare had read the account of this vision in Plutarch's Life of Cæsar, as well as in that of Brutus; it is there called the ghost, and it is said that the light of the lampe waxed very dimme.' It is more than probable that the poet would consult the Life of Cæsar, as well as that of Brutus, in search of materials for his play.

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?

Nor I, my lord.

Var. No, my lord, I saw nothing.

Clau.

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 1 To warn is to summon. So in King John :

'Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls.' And in King Richard III.:

And sent to warn them to his royal presence.'

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 generals would have some words.
Oct. Stir not until the signal.

2

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.

Fearful bravery.' Though fearful is often used by Shakspeare and his cotemporaries in an active sense, for producing fear, or terrible, it may in this instance bear its usual acceptation of timorous, or, as it was sometimes expressed, false-hearted. Thus in a passage, cited by Steevens, from Sidney's Arcadia, lib. ii. Her horse faire and lustie; which she rid so as might show a fearefull boldness, daring to do that which she knew that she knew not how to doe.'