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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.
Ca.s.sIUS. 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?
Ca.s.sIUS. I do not think it good.
BRUTUS. Your reason?
Ca.s.sIUS. 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.
Ca.s.sIUS. 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.
Ca.s.sIUS. 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 n.i.g.g.ard with a little rest.
There is no more to say?
Ca.s.sIUS. 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, t.i.tinius; n.o.ble, n.o.ble Ca.s.sius, Good night and good repose.
Ca.s.sIUS. 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.
Ca.s.sIUS. Good night, my lord.
BRUTUS. Good night, good brother.
t.i.tINIUS. 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 Ca.s.sius.
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 G.o.d, 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?