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Caf. Come, Antony, and young Olevius, come,
Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius,
For Caffius is a-weary of the world;)
Hated by one he loves, bravd by his brother,
Check'd like a bondman, alf his faults observ'd,
Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
To cast into my teeth. Of could weep
My spirit from mine eyes. There is my dagger,
And here my maked breast; within, a heart
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:
'If that thou beeft a Roman, take it forth;
I, that deny'd thee gold, will give my heart :
Strike as thou didst at Cæfar; for I know,
When thou didft hate him worft, thou lor'dit bim better
Than ever thou lov’dft Caffius.

Bru. Sheath your dagger :
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Caffius, you are yoked with a & lamb,
That carries anger, as the flint bears fire,
Who, much enforced, shews a hasty (park,
And straight is cold again.

Caf. Hath Caffius liv'd
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper’d, vexeth him?

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Caf. Do you confess so much. Give me your hand.

* The fo's and R. read Pluta's for Plue Roman's, &c.

& P. reads man for lamb. i W. reads, If ita: sbow peed't a

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Bru. And my heart too. at

[" Embracing Caf. O BrutusBru. What's the inatter

Caf. Have I not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Caffius; and k from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutusy He 'll think your mother chides, and leave : you


L' A noise within.
* Poet. [" within] Let me go in, ta fee the generals;
There is some grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet
They be alone.
Luc. [° at the door] You shall not come to them.
Poet. [p within] Nothing but death shall stay mc.

Enter Poet.
Caf. How now? What's the matter?

Poct. For shame, you generals; what do you mean?
Love, and be friends, as two fuch men should be:
For I have seen more years, I'm sure, than ye...

Caf. Ha, ha! How I vilely · doth this cynick rhime !

This direction not in the fo's or Lucilius and Titinius; but preserve it in C.

the margin. i P.'s duodecimo, T. W. 7. and n T. first puts (xitbin.] you not for no: you.

[at the door] put by C.-7. W. and 5 C. omits from

7. [witbin.] The other editions have 1 This direction firt put in by T.. no direction. The fo's make the poet to enter here; P [svirbin] first put in by T. So does R. who adds Lucius and Titi 9 The ift and ad fe vildely ; 3d, nius,

wildly. m P. and H. in their text omit all 5Cdoes for doib. from this place to the entrance of


Bru. Get you hence, firrah; faucy fellow, hencca
Caf. Bear with him, Brutus ; 'tis his fashion.

Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time :
What should the wars do with these • jingling fools ?
Companion, hence.
Caf. Away, away, be gone.

[Exit Poet. Enter Lucilius, and Titinius. Bru, Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night,

Caf. And come yourselves, and bring Melala with you Immediately to us. [° Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius. Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine,

[W Exit Lucius. Caf. I did not think you could have been so angry, Bru. O Cafrus, I am sick of many griefs.

Gaf. Of your philosophy you make no use,
If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears forrow better_* Portia is dead.
Caf. Ha! Portia ?
Bru. She is dead.

Caf. How 'scap'd I killing, when I croft you fo:
O insupportable and touching loss !--
Upon what sickness?

Bru. Impatient of my absence;
And grief, that young Olavius with Mark Antony
Have made themselves so strong: For with her death

· The fo's and R. jigging for jingking.

The entrance of Lucilius and Tiri. nius, not mentioned in the fo's.

u This direction not in the fo's, w This direction first given by C.

* P. and all after except C. Portia's dead for Portia is dead.

H 3


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That tidings came ; with this she fell distract,
And, her attendants absent, swallowd fire.
| Caf. And dy'd fo ?
Bru. Even so.


immortal gods !

Enter y Lucius with Wine and Tapers. Bru. Speak no more of her.-Give me a bowl of wine. In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

Caf. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'er-swell the cup;
I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. [drinks.

· Enter Titinius, and Messala.
Bru. Come in, Titinius; welcome, good Meffala.
Now fit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.

Caso o Portia ! art thou gone?

Bru. No more, I pray you.--
Mefala, I have c here received letters,
That young Oslavius, and Mark Antony,
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition toward Philippi.

Mef. Myself have letters of the self-faine tenour,
Bru. With what addition?

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Mes: That, by proscription, and bills of outlawry,
Ostavius, Antony, and Lepidus,
Have put to death . an hundred senators,

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;
Mine speak of seventy senators, that dy'd
By their proscriptions, Cicerq being one,

Cas. Cicero one?

Mef. Cicero is dead,
And i by that order of proscription,
Had you your letters from your wife, my lord ?

Bru. No, Mesala,
Mef. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her ?
Bru. Nothing, Meffala.
Mes. That, methinks, is strange.
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;
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.

Bru. Why, farewel, Portia. - We must die, Meffala. With meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now.

Mef. Even so great men great losses should endure,

Caf. I have as much of this in art as you, But yet my nature could not bear it fo.

Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think
Of marching to Philippi presently?

Caf. I do not think it good.
Bru. Your reason?

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