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Within the Tent of BRUTUS. | |
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Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS. | |
Cas. That you have wrongd me doth appear in this: | |
You have condemnd and noted Lucius Pella | |
For taking bribes here of the Sardians; | 5 |
Wherein my letters, praying on his side, | |
Because I knew the man, were slighted off. | |
Bru. You wrongd yourself to write in such a case. | |
Cas. In such a time as this it is not meet | |
That every nice offence should bear his comment. | 10 |
Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself. | |
Are much condemnd to have an itching palm; | |
To sell and mart your offices for gold | |
To undeservers. | |
Cas. I an itching palm! | 15 |
You know that you are Brutus that speak this, | |
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. | |
Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption, | |
And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. | |
Cas. Chastisement! | 20 |
Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember: | |
Did not great Julius bleed for justice sake? | |
What villain touchd his body, that did stab, | |
And not for justice? What! shall one of us, | |
That struck the foremost man of all this world | 25 |
But for supporting robbers, shall we now | |
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, | |
And sell the mighty space of our large honours | |
For so much trash as may be grasped thus? | |
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, | 30 |
Than such a Roman. | |
Cas. Brutus, bay not me; | |
Ill not endure it: you forget yourself, | |
To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I, | |
Older in practice, abler than yourself | 35 |
To make conditions. | |
Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius. | |
Cas. I am. | |
Bru. I say you are not. | |
Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; | 40 |
Have mind upon your health; tempt me no further. | |
Bru. Away, slight man! | |
Cas. Is t possible? | |
Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. | |
Must I give way and room to your rash choler? | 45 |
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares? | |
Cas. O ye gods! ye gods! Must I endure all this? | |
Bru. All this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break; | |
Go show your slaves how choleric you are, | |
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? | 50 |
Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch | |
Under your testy humour? By the gods, | |
You shall digest the venom of your spleen, | |
Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, | |
Ill use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, | 55 |
When you are waspish. | |
Cas. Is it come to this? | |
Bru. You say you are a better soldier: | |
Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, | |
And it shall please me well. For mine own part, | 60 |
I shall be glad to learn of noble men. | |
Cas. You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus; | |
I said an elder soldier, not a better: | |
Did I say, better? | |
Bru. If you did, I care not. | 65 |
Cas. When Cæsar livd, he durst not thus have movd me. | |
Bru. Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him. | |
Cas. I durst not! | |
Bru. No. | |
Cas. What! durst not tempt him! | 70 |
Bru. For your life you durst not. | |
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; | 75 |
For I am armd 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: | 80 |
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, | 85 |
Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius? | |
Should I have answerd Caius Cassius so? | |
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, | |
To lock such rascal counters from his friends, | |
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts; | 90 |
Dash him to pieces! | |
Cas. I denied you not. | |
Bru. You did. | |
Cas. I did not: he was but a fool | |
That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rivd my heart. | 95 |
A friend should bear his friends 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. | 100 |
Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. | |
Bru. A flatterers would not, though they do appear | |
As huge as high Olympus. | |
Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, | |
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, | 105 |
For Cassius is aweary of the world; | |
Hated by one he loves; bravd by his brother; | |
Checkd like a bondman; all his faults observd, | |
Set in a note-book, learnd, and connd by rote, | |
To cast into my teeth. O! I could weep | 110 |
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 best a Roman, take it forth; | |
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: | 115 |
Strike, as thou didst at Cæsar; for, I know, | |
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovdst him better | |
Than ever thou lovdst Cassius. | |
Bru. Sheathe your dagger: | |
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; | 120 |
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, shows a hasty spark, | |
And straight is cold again. | 125 |
Cas. Hath Cassius livd | |
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, | |
When grief and blood ill-temperd vexeth him? | |
Bru. When I spoke that I was ill-temperd too. | |
Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand. | 130 |
Bru. And my heart too. | |
Cas. O Brutus! | |
Bru. Whats the matter? | |
Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me, | |
When that rash humour which my mother gave me | 135 |
Makes me forgetful? | |
Bru. Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth | |
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, | |
Hell think your mother chides, and leave you so. [Noise within. | |
Poet. [Within.] Let me go in to see the generals; | 140 |
There is some grudge between em, tis not meet | |
They be alone. | |
Lucil. [Within.] You shall not come to them. | |
Poet. [Within.] Nothing but death shall stay me. | |
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Enter Poet, followed by LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, and LUCIUS. | 145 |
Cas. How now! Whats 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, Im sure, than ye. | |
Cas. Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rime! | 150 |
Bru. Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence! | |
Cas. Bear with him, Brutus; tis his fashion. | |
Bru. Ill know his humour, when he knows his time: | |
What should the wars do with these jigging fools? | |
Companion, hence! | 155 |
Cas. Away, away! be gone. [Exit Poet. | |
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 TITINIUS. | 160 |
Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine! [Exit LUCIUS. | |
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. | 165 |
Bru. No man bears sorrow better: Portia is dead. | |
Cas. Ha! Portia! | |
Bru. She is dead. | |
Cas. How scapd I killing when I crossd you so? | |
O insupportable and touching loss! | 170 |
Upon what sickness? | |
Bru. Impatient of my absence, | |
And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony | |
Have made themselves so strong;for with her death | |
That tidings came:with this she fell distract, | 175 |
And, her attendants absent, swallowd fire. | |
Cas. And died so? | |
Bru. Even so. | |
Cas. O ye immortal gods! | |
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Enter LUCIUS, with wine and tapers. | 180 |
Bru. Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine. | |
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. [Drinks. | |
Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. | |
Fill, Lucius, till the wine oerswell the cup; | |
I cannot drink too much of Brutus love. [Drinks. | 185 |
Bru. Come in, Titinius. [Exit LUCIUS. | |
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Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA. | |
Welcome, good Messala. | |
Now sit we close about this taper here, | |
And call in question our necessities. | 190 |
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, | 195 |
Bending their expedition towards Philippi. | |
Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenour. | |
Bru. With what addition? | |
Mes. That by proscription and bills of outlawry, | |
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus, | 200 |
Have put to death an 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! | 205 |
Mes. 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? | 210 |
Bru. Nothing, Messala. | |
Mes. That, methinks, is strange. | |
Bru. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours? | |
Mes. No, my lord. | |
Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. | 215 |
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. | 220 |
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? | 225 |
Cas. I do not think it good. | |
Bru. Your reason? | |
Cas. This is it: | |
Tis better that the enemy seek us: | |
So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, | 230 |
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 forcd affection; | 235 |
For they have grudgd us contribution: | |
The enemy, marching along by them, | |
By them shall make a fuller number up, | |
Come on refreshd, new-added, and encouragd; | |
From which advantage shall we cut him off, | 240 |
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, | 245 |
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; | 250 |
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. | 255 |
Cas. Then, with your will, go on; | |
Well 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. | 260 |
There is no more to say? | |
Cas. No more. Good-night: | |
Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence. | |
Bru. Lucius! | |
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Re-enter LUCIUS. | 265 |
My gown. [Exit LUCIUS. | |
Farewell, good Messala: | |
Good-night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius, | |
Good-night, and good repose. | |
Cas. O my dear brother! | 270 |
This was an ill beginning of the night: | |
Never come such division tween our souls! | |
Let it not, Brutus. | |
Bru. Every thing is well. | |
Cas. Good-night, my lord. | 275 |
Bru. Good-night, good brother. | |
Tit. & Mes. Good-night, Lord Brutus. | |
Bru. Farewell, every one. [Exeunt CASSIUS, TITINIUS, and MESSALA. | |
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Re-enter LUCIUS, with the gown. | |
Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument? | 280 |
Luc. Here in the tent. | |
Bru. What! thou speakst drowsily? | |
Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art oer-watchd. | |
Call Claudius and some other of my men; | |
Ill have them sleep on cushions in my tent. | 285 |
Luc. Varro! and Claudius! | |
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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 | 290 |
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, heres the book I sought for so; | 295 |
I put it in the pocket of my gown. [VARRO and CLAUDIUS 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? | 300 |
Luc. Ay, my lord, an t 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; | 305 |
I know young bloods look for a time of rest. | |
Luc. I have slept, my lord, already. | |
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. [Music, and a Song. | 310 |
This is a sleepy tune: O murderous slumber! | |
Layst 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 breakst thy instrument; | 315 |
Ill take it from thee; and, good boy, good-night. | |
Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turnd down | |
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. | |
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Enter the Ghost of CÆSAR. | |
How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here? | 320 |
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 makst my blood cold and my hair to stare? | 325 |
Speak to me what thou art. | |
Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. | |
Bru. Why comst thou? | |
Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. | |
Bru. Well; then I shall see thee again? | 330 |
Ghost. Ay, at Philippi. | |
Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then. [Ghost vanishes. | |
Now I have taken heart thou vanishest: | |
Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. | |
Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! | 335 |
Claudius! | |
Luc. The strings, my lord, are false. | |
Bru. He thinks he still is at his instrument. | |
Lucius, awake! | |
Luc. My lord! | 340 |
Bru. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out? | |
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! | 345 |
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? | 350 |
Bru. Ay: saw you any thing? | |
Var. No, my lord, I saw nothing. | |
Clau. Nor I, my lord. | |
Bru. Go, and commend me to my brother Cassius. | |
Bid him set on his powers betimes before, | 355 |
And we will follow. | |
Var. & Clau. It shall be done, my lord. [Exeunt. | |
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