Bru. For your life you durst not.

Bru. No.

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love;

I may do that I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;

For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,

That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not. I did send to you

For certain sums of gold, which you denied me;-
For I can raise no money by vile means:
By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
By any indirection.-I did send

To you for gold to pay my legions,

Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius? Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?

When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,

To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,
Dash him to pieces!

Cas. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Cas. I did not:-he was but a fool

[heart:

That brought my answer back.-Brutus hath rived my
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.
Cas. You love me not.

Bru. I do not like your faults.

Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults.

Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.

Cas. Come, Antony and young Octavius, come,
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius!

For Cassius is aweary of the world;
Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observed,
Set in a notebook, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep
My spirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast; within, a heart
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:
If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart:
Strike, as thou didst at Cæsar; for, I know,

When thou didst hate him worse, thou lov'dst him better
Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius.

Bru. Sheathe your dagger.

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;

Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.

O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb

That carries anger as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, shews a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Cas. Hath Cassius lived

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.

Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
Bru. And my heart too.

Cas. O Brutus !

Bru. What's the matter?

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

Bru. Yes, Cassius; and henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, We'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

Noise within

Poet. [Within.] Let me go in to see the generals;
There is some grudge between them; 'tis not meet
They be alone.

Lucil. [Within.] You shall not come to them.
Poet. [Within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.
Enter Poet.

Cas. How now? What's the matter?

Poet. For shame, you generals! What do you mean! Love, and be friends, as two such men should be; For I have seen more years, I'm sure, than ye.

Cas. Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rhyme! Bru. Get you hence, sirran; saucy fellow, hence! Cas. 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 jigging fools?— Companion, hence!

Cas. Away, away, begone!

[Exit Poet.

Enter LUCILIUS and TITANIUS.
Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you, Immediately to us. [Exeunt LUCILIUS and TITISIUS. Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine!

Cas. I did not think you could have been so angry.
Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use,

If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears sorrow better.-Portia is dead. Cas. Ha! Portia?

Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA.

Bru. Come in, Titinius!-Welcome, good Messals.-
Now sit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.

Cas. Portia, art thou gone?
Bru. No more, I pray you.-
Messala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius and Mark Antony
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition toward Philippi.

Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenor.
Bru. With what addition?

Mes. That by proscription and bills of outlawry,
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus

Have put to death a hundred senators.

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;
Mine speak of seventy senators that died
By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.

Cas. Cicero one?

Mes. Ay, Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

Bru. No, Messala.

Mes. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?

Bru. Nothing, Messala:

Mes. That, methinks, is strange.

Bru. Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours!

Mes. No, nry lord.

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.

Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell: For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. Bru. Why, farewell, Portia.-We must die, Messala: With meditating that she must die once,

I have the patience to endure it now.

Mes. Even so great men great losses should endure Cas. 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 you think Of marching to Philippi presently! Cas. I do not think it good

Bru. Your reason?

Cas. This it is:

"Tis better that the enemy seek us:

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 refresh'd, 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!

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.

[pleasure.

Var. So please you, we will stand and watch your
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 a while,
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:-0 murd'rous slumber! 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 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,

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

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 warn 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.

Enter a Messenger. Mess. 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. 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, Caesar, we will answer on their charge. Make forth; the generals would have some words. Oct. Stir not until the signal.

[March

Bru. Words before blows:-is it so, countrymen? Oct. Not that we love words better, as you do. [vius. Bru. Good words are better than bad strokes, OctaAnt. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good Witness the hole you made in Cæsar's heart, [words: Crying, "Long live! hail, Cæsar!"

Cas. Antony,

The posture of your blows are yet unknown; But for your words. they rob the Hvbla bees,

Cas. Flatterers!-Now, Brutus, thank yourself: This tongue had not offended so to-day,

If Cassius might have ruled.

Oct. Come, come, the cause: if arguing make us The proof of it will turn to redder drops. Look,

I draw a sword against conspirators;

When think you that the sword goes up again?-
Never, till Cæsar's three-and-twenty wounds

Be well avenged; or till another Cæsar

Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
Bru. Cæsar, thou canst not die by traitors,
Unless thou bring'st them with thee.

Oct. So I hope;

I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.

Bru. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,

[sweat,

Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.

Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour, Join'd with a masker and a reveller!

Ant. Old Cassius still!

Oct. Come, Antony; away!

Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth:

If you dare fight to-day, come to the field;

If not, when you have stomachs.

[Exeunt OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their army. Cas. Why now, blow, wind; swell, billow; and swim, The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.

Bru. Ho,

Lucilius! hark, a word with you.

[bark !

Lucil. My lord? [BRUTUS and LUCILIUS converse apart. Cas. Messala,

Mes. What says my general?

Cas. Messala,

This is my birthday; as this very day

Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala:

Be thou my witness, that, against my will,

As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set

Upon one battle all our liberties.
You know that I held Epicurus strong,
And his opinion: now I change my mind,
And partly credit things that do presage.
Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
Two mighty eagles fell; and there they perch'd,
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands;
Who to Philippi here consorted us:
This morning are they fled away and gone;

And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites
Fly o'er our heads, and downward look on us,
As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem
A canopy most fatal, under which

Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.

Mes. Believe not so.

Cas. I but believe it partly;

For I am fresh of spirit, and resolved

To meet all perils very constantly.
Bru. Even so, Lucilius.

Cas. Now, most noble Brutus,

The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may,
Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!

But, since the affairs of men rest still uncertain,
Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
If we do lose this battle, then is this
The very last time we shall speak together:
What are you, then, determined to do?

Bru. Even by the rule of that philosophy,
By which I did blame Cato for the death
Which he did give himself:-I know not how,
But I do find it cowardly and vile,

For fear of what might fall, so to prevent
The time of life :-arming myself with patience,
To stay the providence of some high powers
That govern us below.

Cas. Then, if we lose this battle,

You are contented to be led in triumph

Through the streets of Rome?

Bru. No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble Roman, That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;

He bears too great a mind. But this same day
Must end that work the ides of March begun;
And whether we shall meet again, I know not.

Therefore our everlasting farewell take:-
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius!
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why, then, this parting was well made
Cas. For ever, and for ever, farewell, Brutus !
If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;

If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made.

Bru. Why then, lead on.-O, that a man might know The end of this day's business ere it come! But it sufficeth that the day will end,

And then the end is known.-Come, ho! away! [Exeunt

SCENE II.-The same. The Field of Battle.

Alarum. Enter BRUTUS and MESSALA.
Bru. Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills
Unto the legions on the other side:

Let them set on at once; for I perceive
But cold demeanour in Octavius' wing,

[Loud alarum,

And sudden push gives them the overthrow.

Ride, ride, Messala: let them all come down. [Exeunt

Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;

Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord!

Fly therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.

Cas. This hill is far enough.-Look, look, Titinius; Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?

Tit. They, are, my lord.

Cas. Titinius, if thou lov'st me,

Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him,
Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops,

And here again; that I may rest assured
Whether yond' troops are friend or enemy.
Tit. I will be here again, even with a thought. [Ex
Cas. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill;
My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,
And tell me what thou not'st about the field.-

[Exit PINDARUS.

This day I breathed first: time is come round,
And where I did begin, there I shall end;
My life is run his compass.-Sirrah, what news?
Pin. [Above] O my lord!

Cas. What news?

Pin. Titinius is

Mes. Is not that he?

Tit. No, this was he, Messala,

But Cassius is no more.- setting sun!
As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night,
So in his red blood Cassius' day is set,-
The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone;
Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done!
Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.

Mes, Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. O hateful error, melancholy's child!

Why dost thou shew to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O error, soon conceived, Thou never com'st unto a happy birth,

But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee!

Tit. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus?

Mes. Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet

The noble Brutus, thrusting this report
Into his ears: I may say thrusting it;

For piercing steel and darts envenomed

Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus,

As tidings of this sight.

Tit. Hie you, Messala,

Look, whe'r he have not crown'd dead Cassius!
Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these?-
The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
It is impossible that ever Rome

Should breed thy fellow.-Friends, I owe more tears
To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.-
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.-
Come, therefore, and to Thassos send his body;
His funerals shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us.-Lucilius, come;-
And come. young Cato;-let us to the field.-
Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on:-
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Another Part of the Field. Alarum. Enter, fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and others. Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads! Cato. What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?

I will proclaim my name about the field:

I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;

I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! [Charges the enemy.
Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;
Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus.

[Exit, charging the enemy. CATO is overpowered,
and falls.

Lucil. O young and noble Cato, art thou down?
Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius;
And mayst be honour'd, being Cato's son.

1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest.

Lucil. Only I yield to die:

There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight;

SCENE V.-Another Part of the Field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and VOLUMNIUS.

Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. Cli. Statilius shew'd the torch-light; but, my lord, He came not back; he is or ta'en or slain

Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word; It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. [Whispering. Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world. Bru. Peace then, no words. Cli. I'll rather kill myself. Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius. Dar. I do such a deed? Cli. O Dardanius! Dar. O Clitus!

[Whispers him.

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee? Dar. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates. Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word. Vol. What says my lord?

Bru. Why, this, Volumnius:

The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me
Two several times by night,-at Sardis once,
And, this last night, here in Philippi fields:
I know my hour is come.

Vol. Not so, my lord.

Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.

Good Volumnius,

Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit:
It is more worthy to leap in ourselves,
Than tarry till they push us.
Thou know'st that we two went to school together.
Even for that our love of old, I pray thee,
Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
[Alarum still.

Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
Bru. Farewell to you;-and you;-and you, Volum
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; [nius.--
Farewell to thee too, Strato.-Countrymen,
My heart doth joy that yet, in all my life,

I found no man but he was true to me.

I shall have glory by this losing day,

More than Octavius and Mark Antony
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's history:

Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
That have but labour'd to attain this hour.

Mes. My master's man.-Strato, where is thy master!
Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala:
The conquerors can but make a fire of him;
For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man else hath honour by his death.
Lucil. So Brutus should be found.-I thank thee,
That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true. [Brutus
Oct. All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.-
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.

Oct. Do so, Messala.

Mes. How died my master, Strato?

Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.