Immediately to us. [Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius. Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine. Caf. I did not think, you could have been fo angry. Caf. Of your philofophy you make no use, Bru. No man bears forrow better- Bru. She is dead. -Porcia's dead. Caf. How 'fcap'd I killing, when I croft you fo? O infupportable and touching lofs! Upon what fickness ? Bru. Impatient of my abfence; And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have made themselves fo ftrong: (for with her death That tydings came) With this fhe fell diftra&t, And (her Attendants abfent) fwallow'd fire. Caf. And dy'd fo? Bru. Even fo. Caf. O ye immortal Gods ! Enter Boy with Wine and Tapers. Bru. Speak no more of her: give me a bowl of wine. In this I bury all unkindnefs, Caffius. [Drinks. 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' love.. Bru. Come in, Titinius;-welcome, good Meffala. Enter Titinius, and Meffala. Now fit we clofe about this taper here, Come Come down upon us with a mighty Power, Mef. Myfelf have letters of the self-fame tenour. Mef. That by Proscription and bills of Outlawry, Odavius, Antony, and Lepidus Have put to death an hundred Senators. Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree; Caf Cicero one? Mef. Cicero is dead; and by that order of profcription. Mef. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her? Mef. That, methinks, is ftrange. Bru. Why afk you? hear you aught 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; For certain fhe is dead, and by ftrange manner. Bru. Why, farewel, Porcia-we must die, Meffala. With meditating that fhe muft 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 so. Bru. Well, to our Work alive. What do 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 reafons muft of force give place to better. The The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground, Caf. Hear me, good brother Bru. Under your pardon.-You must note befide, That we have try'd 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; And we must take the current when it ferves, Or lofe our ventures. Caf. 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 neceffity; Which we will niggard with a little reft. There is no more to say. Caf. No more; good-night; Early to-morrow will we rife, and hence. Enter Lucius. Bru. Lucius, my gown; farewel, good Messala, Caf. O my dear brother! This was an ill beginning of the night: Enter 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 speak'ft drowfily? 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. Var Enter Varro and Claudius. ALLS my lord? C Bru. I pray you, Sirs, lie in my Tent, and fleep; It may be, I fhall raise you by and by, It Var. So please you, we will stand, and watch your pleasure. Bru. I will not have it fó; lie down, good Sirs: may be, I shall 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. Bru. I fhould not urge thy duty paft thy might; Bru. Bru. It was well done, and thou fhalt fleep again; I will not hold thee long. If I do live, I will be good to thee. [Mufic and a Song. -O murd'rous flumber! Lay'ft thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee mufic? gentle knave, good-night. I will not do thee fo much wrong to wake thee. If thou doft 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. SCENE [He fits down to read. VII. Enter the Ghost of Cæfar. How ill this taper burns!-ha! who comes here? Ghoft. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. Bru. Why com'ft thou? Ghoft. To tell thee, thou shalt see 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 vanifheft: Ill Spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. Luc. The ftrings, my lord, are falfe. Bru. He thinks, he is ftill at his inftrument. Lucius! awake. Luc. My lord! Bru. |