The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

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

BRUTUS. Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth, When you are overearnest with your Brutus, He’ll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

POET. [Within.] Let me go in to see the generals.

There is some grudge between ‘em, ‘tis not meet They be alone.

LUCILIUS. [Within.] You shall not come to them.

POET. [Within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius.

CASSIUS. 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.

CASSIUS. Ha, ha! How vilely doth this cynic rhyme!

BRUTUS. Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!

CASSIUS. Bear with him, Brutus; ‘tis his fashion.

BRUTUS. I’ll know his humor when he knows his time.

What should the wars do with these jigging fools?

Companion, hence!

CASSIUS. Away, away, be gone! Exit Poet.

BRUTUS. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies tonight.

CASSIUS. And come yourselves and bring Messala with you Immediately to us. Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.

BRUTUS. Lucius, a bowl of wine! Exit Lucius.

CASSIUS. I did not think you could have been so angry.

BRUTUS. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.

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

BRUTUS. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.

CASSIUS. Ha? Portia?

BRUTUS. She is dead.

CASSIUS. How ‘scaped killing when I cross’d you so?

O insupportable and touching loss!

Upon what sickness?

BRUTUS. 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, And (her attendants absent) swallow’d fire.

CASSIUS. And died so?

BRUTUS. Even so.

CASSIUS. O ye immortal gods!

Re-enter Lucius, with wine and taper.

BRUTUS. Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine.

In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. Drinks.

CASSIUS. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.

Fill, Lucius, till the wine o’erswell the cup; I cannot drink too much of Brutus’ love. Drinks.

BRUTUS. Come in, Titinius! Exit Lucius.

Re-enter Titinius, with Messala.

Welcome, good Messala.

Now sit we close about this taper here, And call in question our necessities.

CASSIUS. Portia, art thou gone?

BRUTUS. 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.

MESSALA. Myself have letters of the selfsame tenure.

BRUTUS. With what addition?

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

Have put to death an hundred senators.

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

CASSIUS. Cicero one!

MESSALA. Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

BRUTUS. No, Messala.

MESSALA. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?

BRUTUS. Nothing, Messala.

MESSALA. That, methinks, is strange.

BRUTUS. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours?

MESSALA. No, my lord.

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

MESSALA. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell: For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.

BRUTUS. Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala.

With meditating that she must die once I have the patience to endure it now.

MESSALA. Even so great men great losses should endure.

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

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

CASSIUS. I do not think it good.

BRUTUS. Your reason?

CASSIUS. This it is:

‘Tis better that the enemy seek us;

So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, Doing himself offense, whilst we lying still Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness.

BRUTUS. 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.

CASSIUS. Hear me, good brother.

BRUTUS. 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.

CASSIUS. Then, with your will, go on;

We’ll along ourselves and meet them at Philippi.

BRUTUS. 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?

CASSIUS. No more. Good night.

Early tomorrow will we rise and hence.

BRUTUS. Lucius!

Re-enter Lucius.

My gown. Exit Lucius.

Farewell, good Messala;

Good night, Titinius; noble, noble Cassius, Good night and good repose.

CASSIUS. O my dear brother!

This was an ill beginning of the night.

Never come such division ‘tween our souls!

Let it not, Brutus.

BRUTUS. Everything is well.

CASSIUS. Good night, my lord.

BRUTUS. Good night, good brother.

TITINIUS. MESSALA. Good night, Lord Brutus.

BRUTUS. Farewell, everyone.

Exeunt all but Brutus.

Re-enter Lucius, with the gown.

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

LUCIUS. Here in the tent.

BRUTUS. What, thou speak’st drowsily?

Poor knave, I blame thee not, thou art o’erwatch’d.

Call Claudio and some other of my men, I’ll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.

LUCIUS. Varro and Claudio!

Enter Varro and Claudio.

VARRO. Calls my lord?

BRUTUS. 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.

VARRO. So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.

BRUTUS. I would 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.

Varro and Claudio lie down.

LUCIUS. I was sure your lordship did not give it me.

BRUTUS. 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?

LUCIUS. Ay, my lord, an’t please you.

BRUTUS. It does, my boy.

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

LUCIUS. It is my duty, sir.

BRUTUS. I should not urge thy duty past thy might; I know young bloods look for a time of rest.

LUCIUS. I have slept, my lord, already.

BRUTUS. 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.

This is a sleepy tune. O murtherous slumber, Layest 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 Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. Sits down.

Enter the Ghost of Caesar.

How ill this taper burns! Ha, who comes here?

I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition.

It comes upon me. Art thou anything?

Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?

Speak to me what thou art.

GHOST. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

BRUTUS. Why comest thou?

GHOST. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.

BRUTUS. Well, then I shall see thee again?

GHOST. Ay, at Philippi.

BRUTUS. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then. Exit Ghost.

Now I have taken heart thou vanishest.

Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.

Boy! Lucius! Varro! Claudio! Sirs, awake!

Claudio!

LUCIUS. The strings, my lord, are false.

BRUTUS. He thinks he still is at his instrument.

Lucius, awake!

LUCIUS. My lord?

BRUTUS. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?

LUCIUS. My lord, I do not know that I did cry.

BRUTUS. Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything?

LUCIUS. Nothing, my lord.

BRUTUS. Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudio!

[To Varro.] Fellow thou, awake!

VARRO. My lord?

CLAUDIO. My lord?

BRUTUS. Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?

VARRO. CLAUDIO. Did we, my lord?

BRUTUS. Ay, saw you anything?

VARRO. No, my lord, I saw nothing.

CLAUDIO. Nor I, my lord.

BRUTUS. Go and commend me to my brother Cassius; Bid him set on his powers betimes before, And we will follow.

VARRO. CLAUDIO. It shall be done, my lord. Exeunt.

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ACT V. SCENE I.

The plains of Philippi.

Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.

OCTAVIUS. 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.

ANTONY. 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.

MESSENGER. Prepare you, generals.

The enemy comes on in gallant show;

Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, And something to be done immediately.

ANTONY. Octavius, lead your battle softly on, Upon the left hand of the even field.

OCTAVIUS. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.

ANTONY. Why do you cross me in this exigent?

OCTAVIUS. I do not cross you, but I will do so.

March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army; Lucilius, Titinius, Messala, and others.

BRUTUS. They stand, and would have parley.

CASSIUS. Stand fast, Titinius; we must out and talk.

OCTAVIUS. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?

ANTONY. No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge.

Make forth, the generals would have some words.

OCTAVIUS. Stir not until the signal not until the signal.

BRUTUS. Words before blows. Is it so, countrymen?

OCTAVIUS. Not that we love words better, as you do.

BRUTUS. Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.

ANTONY. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words.

Witness the hole you made in Caesar’s heart, Crying “Long live! Hail, Caesar!”

CASSIUS. Antony,

The posture of your blows are yet unknown; But for your words, they rob