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Tre. Ev'n so great men great losses should endure.
Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do
Bru. Your reason?
Cas. This it is:
"Tis better that the enemy seek us;
So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
Bru. Good reasons must of force give place to
The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground,
These people at our back.
Cas. Hear me, good brother.
Bru. Under your pardon.—You must note, beside,
That we have try'd the utmost of our friends;
Our legions are brimful, our cause is ripe ;
The enemy incrcaseth 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;
Is bound in shallows, and in miseries.
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
Cas. Then, with your will, go on. We will along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.
Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And nature must obey necessity.
There is no more to say.
Cas. No more;—Good night
Early to-morrow will we rise and hence.
Bru. Noble, noble, Cassius, Good night, and good repose.
Cas. O my dear brother!
This was an ill beginning of the night :
Bru. Every thing is well,
Casca. Good night, Lord Brutus.
Bru. Farewell, every one.—
Where is thy instrument?
Luc. Here, in the tent.
Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily;
Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'erwatch'd.
Bru. It does my boy;
I trouble thee too much; but thou art willing.
Bru. I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again; I will not hold thee long. If I do live,
I will be good to thee.
O murd'rous slumber!
[Lucius sleeps. Lay'st thou thy leaden mace 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 brcak'st thy instrument;
I'll take it from thee;—and, good boy, good night.— But, let me see — -is not the leaf turn'd down, Where I left reading;—Here it is, I think.—
[He sits down to read.
Ha! who comes here?
Enter the Ghost of CESAR.
How ill this taper burns!
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?
Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
Bru. Why com'st thou ?
Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Bru. Then, I shall see thee again
Ghost. Ay, at Philippi.
[Exit Ghost. 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. Sure, they have rais'd some devil to their aid; And think to frighten Brutus with a shade; But ere the night closes this fatal day, I'll send more ghosts, this visit to repay.
ACT THE FIFTH.
The Field of Philippi, with the Two Camps.
Oct. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered.
It proves not so, their battles are at hand;
Ant. Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know
With fearful bravery; thinking, by this face,
Enter Antony's Servant.
Serv. Prepare you, generals;
Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army. Bru. They stand, and would have parley. 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
Witness the hole
you made in Cæsar's heart, Crying, "Long live! hail, Cæsar!"
The posture of your blows are yet unknown,
Ant. Not stingless, too?
Bru. O yes, and soundless, too;
For have stole their buzzing, Antony;
And very wisely threat before you sting.
Ant. villains! you
Hack'd one another in the sides of Cæsar.
You show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds,
And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Cæsar's feet;
Whilst damned Casca, like a cur behind,
Struck Cæsar on the neck.
Cas. Flatterers!—Now, Brutus, thank yourself; This tongue had not offended so to-day,
If Cassius might have rul'd.
Oct. Come, come, the cause; if arguing make us sweat,
The proof of it will turn to redder drops.
Behold, I draw a sword against conspirators;
Oct. So I hope;
I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.
Bru. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable. Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such ho
Join'd with a masker and a reveller.
Ant. Old Cassius still!—
Oct. Come, Antony, away!
Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth.
you dare fight to-day, come to the field;
If not, when you have stomachs.
[Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and Army.
Cas. Why, now, blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!