Julius Cæsar a tragedy : as it is now acted at the Theatre Royal / written by William Shakespeare.

THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CAESAR.

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Flavius, Caska, and certain Commoners over the Stage

Flavius.

HEnce: home you idle Creatures, get you home: Is this a Holiday? What, know you not (Being Mechanical) you ought not walk Upon a labouring day, without the sign Of your Profession? Speak, what Trade art thou?

Car.

Why Sir, a Carpenter.

Cas.

Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule? What dost thou with thy best Apparel on? You sir, what Trade are you?

Cobl.

Truly Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am but as you would say, a Cobler.

Cas.

But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly.

Cob.

A Trade Sir, that I hope I may use, with a safe Conscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soles.

Fla.

What Trade thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what Trade?

Cobl.

Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out Sir, I can mend you.

Cas.

What mean'st thou by that? Mend me, thou sawcy Fellow?

Cob.

Why Sir, Cobble you.

Fla.

Thou art a Cobler, art thou?

Cob.

Truly Sir, all that I live by is with the Aul: I meedle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens matters; but withal I am indeed Sir, a

Surgeon to old shooes: when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon Neats Leather, have gone upon my handy-work.

Fla.

But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day? Why do'st thou lead these men about the streets?

Cob.

Truly Sir, to wear out their shooes, to get my self into more work. But indeed Sir, we make Holyday to see Caesar, and to rejoyce in his Triumph.

Cas.

Wherefore rejoyce? What Conquest brings he home? What Tributaries follow him to Rome? To grace in Captive bonds his Chariot Wheels? You Blocks, you Stones, you worse then sensless things: O you hard hearts! you cruel men of Rome; Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft? Have you climb'd up to Walls and Battlements, To Towers and Windows? Yea, to Chimney tops, Your Infants in your Arms, and there have sate The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the Streets of Rome: And when you saw his Chariot but appear, Have you not made an Universal shout, That Tyber trembled underneath her banks To hear the replication of your sounds, Made in her Concave Shores? And do you now put on your best attyre? And do you now cull out a Holyday? And do you now strew Flowers in his way? That comes in Triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone, Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this Ingratitude.

Fla.

Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault Assemble all the poor men of your sort; Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears Into the Channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted Shores of all.

Exeunt all the Commoners.

See where their basest mettle be not mov'd, They vanish tongue-tyed in their guiltiness: Go you down that way towards the Capitol, This way will I: Disrobe the Images, If you do find them deckt with Ceremonies.

Cas.

May we do so? You know it is the Feast of Lupercal.

Fla.

It is no matter, let no Images Be hung with Caesars Trophies: I'le about, And drive away the Vulgar from the Streets; So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These growing Feathers, pluck't from Caesars wing, Will make him flye an ordinary pitch, Who else would soar above the view of men, And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer: after them Murellus and Flavius.

Caes.

Calphurnia.

Cask.

Peace ho, Caesar speaks.

Caes.

Calphurnia.

Calph.

Here my Lord.

Caes.

Stand you directly in Antonio's way, When he doth run his course. Antonio.

Ant.

Caesar, my Lord.

Caes.

Forget not in your speed Antonio, To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders say, The Barren touched in this holy chace, Shake off their sterile curse.

Ant.

I shall remember, When Caesar says, Do this; it is perform'd.

Caes.

Set on and leave no Ceremony out.

Sooth.

Caesar.

Caes.

Ha! Who calls?

Cask.

Bid every noyse be still: peace yet again.

Caes.

Who is it in the press, that calls on me? I hear a Tongue shriller then all the Musick Cry, Caesar: Speak, Caesar is turn'd to hear,

Sooth.

Beware the Ides of March.

Caes.

What man is that?

Br.

A Sooth sayer bids you beware the Ides of March.

Caes.

Set him before me, let me see his face.

Cassi.

Fellow, come from the throng, look upon Caesar.

Caes.

What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.

Sooth.

Beware the Ides of March.

Caes.

He is a dreamer, let us leave him: Pass.

Sennet. Exeunt. Manet Brut. & Cass.

Cassi.

Will you go see the order of the course?

Brut.

Not I.

Cassi.

I pray you do.

Brut.

I am not Gamesom: I do lack some part Of that quick Spirit that is in Antony: Let me not hinder Cassius your desires;

I'le leave you.

Cassi.

Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes, that gentleness And shew of love, as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn, and too strange a hand Over your Friend, that loves you.

Bru.

Cassius, Be not deceiv'd: If I have veil'd my look, I turn the trouble of my Countenance Meerly upon my self. Vexed I am Of late, with passions of some difference, Conceptions only proper to my self, Which give some soyl (perhaps) to my behaviours: But let not therefore my good Friends be griev'd (Among which number Cassius be you one) Nor construe any further my neglect, Then that poor Brutus with himself at War, Forgets the shews of Love to other men.

Cassi.

Then Brutus, I have much mistook your passion, By means whereof, this Brest of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

Brutus.

No Cassius: For the eye sees not it self but by reflection, By some other things.

Cassius.

'Tis just, And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no such Mirrors, as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye, That you might see your shadow: I have heard, Where many of the best respect in Rome, (Except immortal Caesar) speaking of Brutus, And groaning underneath this Ages yoak, Have wish'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru.

Into what dangers, would you Lead me Cassius? That you would have me seek into my self, For that which is not in me?

Cas.

Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear: And since you know, you cannot see your self So well as by Reflection; I your Glass, Will modestly discover to your self That of your self, which you yet know not of. And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus. Were I a common Laughter, or did use To stale with ordinary Oaths my love

To every new Protester: if you know, That I do fawn on men, and hugg them hard, And after scandal them: Or if you know, That I profess my self in Banquetting To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.

Flourish, and Shout.

Bru.

What means this Shouting? I do fear, the People choose Caesar For their King.

Cassi,

I, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it so.

Bru.

I would not Cassius, yet I love him well: But wherefore do you hold me here so long? What is it, that you would impart to me! If it be ought toward the general good, Set Honour in one eye, and Death i'th' other, And I will look on both indifferently: For let the Gods so speed me, as I love The name of Honour, more then I fear death.

Cassi.

I know that vertue to be in you Brutus, As well as I do know your outward favour. Well, Honour is the subject of my Story: I cannot tell, what you and other men Think of this life: But for my single self, I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of such a thing, as I my self. I was born free as Caesar, so were you, We both have fed as well, and we can both Endure the Winters cold, as well as he. For once upon a Raw and Gusty day, The troubled Tyber, chasing with her Shores, Caesar said to me, dar'st thou Cassius now Leap in with me into this angry Flood, And swim to yonder Point? Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bad him follow: so indeed he did. The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it With lusty Sinews, throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of Controversie. But ere we could arrive the Point propos'd, Caesar cry'd, Help me Cassius, or I sink. I (as Aeneas, our great Ancestor, Did from the Flames of Troy, upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear) so, from the waves of Tyber Did I the tyred Caesar: And this Man,

Is now become a God, and Cassius is A wretched Creature, and must bend his body, If Caesar carelesly but nod on him. He had a Feaver when he was in Spain, And when the Fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake: 'Tis true, this God did shake, His Coward lips did from their colour flye, And that same Eye, whose bend doth awe the World, Did lose his Lustre: I did hear him grone: I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans Mark him, and write his Speeches in their Books, Alas, it cryed, Give me some drink Titinius, As a sick Girl: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the Majestick World, And bear the Palm alone.

Shout. Flowrish.

Bru.

Another general shout? I do believe, that these applauses are For some new Honours, that are heap'd on Caesar.

Cassi.

Why man, he doth bestride the narrow World? Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find our selves dishonourable Graves. Men at some time, are Masters of their Fates. The fault (dear Brutus) is not in our Stars, But in our selves, that we are underlings. Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Caesar? Why should that name be sounded more then yours? Write them together: Yours, is as fair a Name: Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well. Weigh them, it is as heavy: Conjure with 'em, Brutus will start a Spirit as soon as Caesar. Now in the names of all the Gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd. Rome, thou hast lost the breed of Noble Bloods. When went there by an Age, since the great Flood, But it was fam'd with more then with one man? When could they say (till now) that talk'd of Rome, That her wide Walks incompast but one man? Now is it Rome indeed, and Rome enough When there is in it but one only man. O! you and I, have heard our Fathers say, There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd Th' eternal Devil to keep his State in Rome, As easily as a King.

Bru.

That you do love me, I am nothing jealous: What you would work me too, I have some aim: How I have thought of this, and of these times, I shall recount hereafter. For this present, I would not so (with love I might intreat you) Be any further mov'd: What you have said, I will consider: what you have to say I will with patience hear, and find a time Both meet to hear, and answer such high things. Till then, my Noble Friend, chew upon this: Brutus had rather be a Villager, Then to repute himself a Son of Rome Under these hard Conditions, as this time Is like to lay upon us.

Cassi.

I am glad that my weak words Have struck but thus much shew of fire from Brutus.

Enter Caesar and his Train.

Bru.

The Games are done, And Caesar is returning.

Cassi.

As they pass by, Pluck Caska by the Sleeve, And he will (after his sour fashion) tell you What hath proceeded worthy note to day.

Bru.

I will do so: But look you Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Caesars brow, And all the rest, look like a chidden Train; Calphurnia's Cheek is pale, and Cicero Looks with such Ferret, and such fiery eyes, As we have seen him in the Capitol Being crost in Conference, by some Senators.

Cassi.

Caska will tell us what the matter is.

Caes.

Antonio.

Ant.

Caesar.

Caes.

Let me have men about me, that are fat, Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look, He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.

Ant.

Fear him not Caesar, he's not dangerous, He is a Noble Roman, and well given.

Caes.

Would he were fatter; But I fear him not: Yet if my name were lyable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much, He is a great Observer, and he looks Quite through the Deeds of men. He loves no Plays, As thou dost Antony: he hears no Musick;

Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit That could be mov'd to smile at any thing. Such men as he be never at hearts ease, Whiles they behold a greater then themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous. I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd, Then what I fear: for always I am Caesar. Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly, what thou think'st of him.

Sennit.

Exeunt Caesar and his Train.

Cask.

You pull'd me by the Cloak, would you speak with me?

Bru.

I Caska, tell us what hath chanc'd to day That Caesar looks so sad.

Cask.

Why you were with him, were you not?

Bru.

I should not then ask Caska what had chanc'd.

Cask.

Why, there was a Crown offer'd him; and being offer'd him, he put it by with the back of his hand thus, and then the people fell a shouting.

Bru.

What was the second noyse for?

Cask.

Why, for that too.

Cassi.

They shouted thrice, what was the last cry for?

Cask.

Why, for that too.

Bru.

Was the Crown offer'd him thrice?

Cask.

I marry was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler then o∣ther; and at every putting by, mine honest Neighbours shouted.

Cassi.

Who offer'd him the Crown?

Cask.

Why, Antony.

Bru.

Tell us the manner of it, gentle Caska.

Caska.

I can as well be hang'd as tell the manner of it: It was meer Foole∣ry, I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a Crown, yet 'twas not a Crown neither, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I told you he put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him again: then he put it by again: But to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by, and still as he refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw up their sweaty Night-caps, and utte∣red such a deal of stinking breath, because Caesars refus'd the Crown, that it had (almost) choaked Caesar: For he swounded, and fell down at it: And for my own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my Lips, and receive∣ing the bad Air.

Cassi.

But soft I pray you: what, did Caesar swound?

Cask.

He fell down in the Market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechless.

Bru.

'Tis very like he hath the Falling-sickness.

Cassi.

No, Caesar hath it not: but▪ you, and I, And honest Caska, we have the Falling-sickness.

Cask.

I know not what you mean by that, but I am sure Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd them, as they use to do the Players in the Theatre, I am no true man.

Bru.

What said he, when he came unto himself?

Cask.

Marry, before he fell down, when he perceiv'd the Common Herd was glad he refus'd the Crown, he pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat to cut, and I had been a man of any Occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to Hell among the Rogues, and so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, If he had done, or said any thing amiss, he desir'd their Worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or Four Wenches where I stood, cryed, Alass good Soul, and forgave him with all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them: if Caesar had stab'd their Mothers, they would have done no less.

Bru.

And after that, he came thus sad away.

Cask.

I.

Cassi.

Did Cicero say any thing?

Cask.

I, he spoke Greek.

Cassi.

To what effect?

Cask.

Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're look you r'th' face again. But those that understood him, smil'd at one another, and shook their heads: but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Mur∣rellus and Flavius, for pulling Scarfs off Caesar Images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more Foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Cassi.

Will you supp with me to Night, Caska?

Cask.

No, I am promis'd forth.

Cassi.

Will you dine with me to morrow?

Cask.

I, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your Dinner worth the eating.

Cassi.

Good, I will expect you.

Cask.

Do so: farewell both.

Exit.

Brut.

What a blunt fellow is this grown to be? He was quick Mettle when he went to School.

Cassi.

So he is now, in execution Of any bold, or Noble Enterprize, However he puts on this tardy form: This Rudeness is a Sawce to his good Wit, Which gives men stomack to disgest his words With better Appetite.

Brut.

And so it is: For this time I will leave you: To morrow, if you please to speak with me, I will come home to you: or if you will, Come home to me, and I will wait for you.

Cassi.

I will do so: till then, think of the World.

Exit. Brutus.

Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I see,

Thy Honourable Mettle may be wrought From that it is dispos'd: therefore it is meet, That Noble minds keep ever with their likes: For who so firm, that cannot be seduc'd? Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus. If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, He should not humour me. I will this Night, In several Hands, in at his Windows throw, As if they came from several Citizens, Writings, all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurely Caesars Ambition shall be glanced at. And after this, let Caesar seat him sure, For we will shake him, or worse days endure.

Exit.

Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Trebonius.

Treb.

Good even, Caska: brought you Caesar home? Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?

Cask.

Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of Earth Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, I have seen Tempests, when the scolding Winds Have riv'd thy knotty Oaks, & I have seen Th'ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foam, To be exalted with the threatning Clouds: But never till to Night, never till now, Did I go through a Tempest-dropping-fire. Either there is a Civil strife in Heaven, Or else the World too sawcy with the Gods, Incenses them to send destruction.

Treb.

Why, saw you any thing more wonderful?

Cask.

A common slave, you know him well by sight, Held up his left Hand, which did flame and burn Like twenty Torches joyn'd, and yet his Hand, Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. Besides, I ha' not since put up my Sword, Against the Capitol I met a Lyon, Who glaz'd upon me, and went surly by, Without anoying me. And there were drawn Upon a heap, a hundred gastly Women, Transform'd with their fear, who swore, they saw Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets. And yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit, Even at Noon-day, upon the Market-place, Howting, and shreeking. When these Prodigies Do so conjoyntly meet, let not men say,

These are their Reasons, they are Natural: For I believe, they are portentous things Unto the Climate that they point upon.

Treb.

Indeed, it is a strange disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Comes Caesar to the Capitol to morrow?

Cask.

He doth: for he did bid Antonio Send word to you, he would be there to morrow.

Treb.

Good-night then, Caska: This disturbed Sky is not to walk in.

Cask.

Farewell Trebonius.

Exit Cicero.

Enter Cassius.

Cassi.

Who's there?

Cask.

A Roman.

Cassi.

Caska, by your Voyce.

Cask.

Your Ear is good. Cassius, what Night is this?

Cassi.

A very pleasing Night to honest men.

Cask.

Who ever knew the Heavens menace so?

Cassi.

Those that have known the Earth so full of faults. For my part, I have walk'd about the streets▪ Submitting me unto the perilous Night; And thus unbraced, Caska, as you see, Have bar'd my Bosom to the Thunder-stone: And when the cross blew Lightning seem'd to open The Breast of Heaven, I did present my self Even in the aim, and very flash of it.

Cask.

But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heavens? It is the part of men, to fear and tremble, When the most mighty Gods, by tokens send Such dreadful Heraulds, to astonish us.

Cassi.

You are dull, Caska: And those sparks of Life, that should be in a Roman, You do want, or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze, and put on fear, And cast your self in wonder, To see the strange impatience of the Heavens: But if you would consider the true cause, Why all these Fires, why all these gliding Ghosts, Why Birds and Beasts, from quality and kind, Why old men, Fools, and Children calculate, Why all these things change from their Ordinance Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties, To monstrous quality; why you shall find, That Heaven hath infus'd them with these Spirits, To make them Instruments of fear, and warning,

Unto some monstrous State. Now could I (Caska) name to thee a man, Most like this dreadful Night, That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graves, and roars, As doth the Lyon in the Capitol: A man no mightier then thy self, or me, In personal action; yet prodigious grown, And fearfull, as these strange eruptions are.

Cask.

'Tis Caesar that you mean: Is it not, Cassius?

Cassi.

Let it be who it is: for Romans now Have Thewes, and Limbs, like to their Ancestors; But woe the while, our Fathers minds are dead, And we are govern'd with our Mothers Spirits, Our yoak, and sufferance shew us Womanish.

Cask.

Indeed, they say, the Senators to morrow Mean to establish Caesar as a King: And he shall wear his Crown by Sea, and Land, In every place, save here in Italy.

Cassi.

I know where I will wear this Dagger then; Cassius from Bondage will deliver Cassius: Therein, ye Gods, you make the weak most strong; Therein, ye Gods, you Tyrants do defeat. Nor Stony Tower, nor Walls of beaten Brass, Nor air-less Dungeon, nor strong Links of Iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit: But Life being weary of these worldly Barrs, Never lacks power to dismiss it self. If I know this, know all the World besides, That part of Tyranny that I do bear, I can shake off at pleasure.

Thunder still.

Cask.

So can I: So every Bond-man in his own hand bears The power to cancell his Captivity.

Cass.

And why should Caesar be a Tyrant then? Poor man, I know he would not be a Wolf, But that he sees the Romans are but Sheep: He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hinds. Those that with haste will make a mighty fire, Begin it with weak Straws. What trash is Rome? What Rubbish, and what Offal? when it serves For the base matter, to illuminate So vile a thing as Caesar. But oh Grief, Where hast thou led me? I (perhaps) speak this Before a willing Bond-man: then I know My answer must be made. But I am arm'd, And dangers are to me indifferent.

Cask.

You speak to Caska, and to such a man, That is no flearing Tell-tale. Hold, my Hand: Be factious for redress of all these Griefs, And I will set this foot of mine as far, As who goes farthest.

Cass.

There's a Bargain made. Now know you, Caska, I have mov'd already Some certain of the Noblest minded Romans To undergo, with me, an Enterprize, Of Honourable dangerous consequence; And I do know by this, they stay for me In Pompeys Porch: for now this fearful Night, There is no stir, or walking in the streets; And the Complexion of the Element Is Favours, like the Work we have in hand, Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.

Enter Cinna.

Caska.

Stand close a while, for here comes one in haste.

Cass.

'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his Gate, He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?

Cinna.

To find out you: Who's that, Metellus Cymber?

Cass.

No, it is Caska, one incorporate To our Attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?

Cinna.

I am glad on't. What a fearful Night is this? There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.

Cass.

Am I not stay'd for? tell me.

Cinna.

Yes, you are. O Cassius, If you could but win the Noble Brutus To our party—

Cassi.

Be you content. Good Cinna, take this Paper, And look you lay it in the Pretors Chair, Where Brutus may but find it: and throw this In at his Window; set this up with Wax Upon old Brutus Statue: all this done, Repair to Pompeys Porch, where you shall find us. Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?

Cinna.

All, but Metellus Cymber, and he's gone To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, And so bestow these Papers as you bad me.

Cassi.

That done, repair to Pompeys Theatre.

Exit Cinna.

Come Caska, you and I will yet, ere day, See Brutus at his house: three parts of him Is ours already, and the man entire

Upon the next encounter, yields him ours.

Cask.

O, he sits high in all the Peoples hearts: And that which would appear Offence in us, His Countenance, like richest Alchymie, Will change to Vertue, and to Worthiness.

Cassi.

Him, and his worth, and our great need of him, You have right well conceited: let us go, For it is after Mid-night, and ere day, We will awake him, and be sure of him.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Brutus in his Orchard.

Brut.

What Lucius, ho? I cannot, by the progress of the Stars, Give guess how near to day-Lucius, I say? I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. When, Lucius, when? awake, I say: what Lucius?

Enter Lucius.

Luc.

Call'd you, my Lord?

Brut.

Get me a Taper in my Study, Lucius: When it is lighted come and call me here.

Luc.

I will, my Lord.

Exit.

Brut.

It must be by his death: and for my part, I know no personal cause, to spurn at him, But for the general. He would be Crown'd: How that might change his nature, there's the question? It is the bright day, that brings forth the Adder, And that craves wary walking: Crown him that, And then I grant we put a Sting in him, That at his will he may do danger with▪ Th'abuse of Greatness, is, when it dis-joyns Remorse from Power: And to speak truth of Caesar, I have not known, when his Affections sway'd More then his Reason. But 'tis a common proof, That Lowliness is young Ambitions Ladder, Whereto the Climber upward turns his Face: But when he once attains the upmost Round, He then unto the Ladder turns his Back, Looks in the Clouds, scorning the base degrees

By which he did ascend: so Caesar may; Then least he may, prevent. And since the Quarrel Will bear no colour, for the thing he is, Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, Would run to these, and these extremities: And therefore think him as a Serpents Egg, Which hatch'd, would as his kind grow mischievous; And kill him in the shell.

Enter Lucius.

Luc.

The Taper burneth in your Closet, Sir: Searching the Window for a Flint, I found This Paper, thus seal'd up and I am sure It did not lye there when I went to Bed.

Gives him the Letter.

Brut.

Get you to Bed again, it is not day: Is not to morrow (Boy) the first of March?

Luc.

I know not, Sir▪

Brut.

Look in the Calender, and bring me word.

Luc.

I will, Sir.

Exit.

Brut.

The exhalations, whizzing in the air, Give so much light, that I may read by them.

Opens the Letter, and reads.

Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake, and see thy self: Shall Rome, &c. speak, strike, redress, Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, Such instigations have been often dropt, Where I have took them up: Shall Rome, &c. Thus must I piece it out, Shall Rome stand under one mans awe? What Rome? My Ancestors did from the streets of Rome The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a King. Speak, strike, redress. Am I entreated▪ To speak, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise, If the redress will follow, thou receivest Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus.

Enter Lucius

Luc.

Sir, March is wasted Fifteen days.

Knock within.

Brut.

'Tis good. Go to the Gate, some body knocks, Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing, And the first motion, all the Interim is

Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dream: The Genius, and the mortal Instruments Are then in councell; and the state of a man, Like to a little Kingdom, suffers then The nature of an Insurrection.

Enter Lucius.

Luc.

Sir, 'tis your Brother Cassius at the Door, Who doth desire to see you.

Brut.

Is he alone?

Luc.

No, Sir, there are moe with him.

Brut.

Do you know them?

Luc.

No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Ears, And half their Faces buried in their Cloaks, That by no means I may discover them, By any mark of favour.

Brut.

Let 'em enter: They are the Faction. O Conspiracy, Sham'st thou to shew thy dang'rous Brow by Night▪ When evils are most free? O then, by day Where wilt thou find a Cavern dark enough, To mask thy monstrous Visage? Seek none Conspiracy, Hide it in Smiles, and Affability: For if thou path thy Native semblance on, Not Erebus it self were dim enough, To hide thee from prevention.

Enter the Conspirators Cassius, Caska, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius.

Cass.

I think we are too bold upon your Rest: Good morrow Brutus, do we trouble you?

Brut.

I have been up this hour, awake all Night Know I these men, that come along with you?

Cass.

Yes, every man of them; and no man here But honours you: and every one doth wish, You had but that opinion of your self, Which every Noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius.

Brut.

He is welcome hither.

Cass.

This, Decius Brutus.

Brut.

He is welcome too.

Cass.

This, Caska; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cymber.

Brut.

They are all wellcome. What watchful Cares do interpose themselves. Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?

Cass.

Shall I intreat a word?

They whisper:

Decius.

Here lyes the East: doth not the Day break here?

Cask.

No.

Cin.

O pardon, Sir, it doth, and you grey Lines, That fret the Clouds, are Messengers of Day.

Cask.

You shall confess, that you are both deceiv'd: Here, as I point my Sword, the Sun arises, Which is a great way growing on the South, Weighing the youthful Season of the Year, Some two Months hence, up higher toward the North He first presents his Fire, and the high East Stands as the Capitol, directly here.

Bru.

Give me your hands all over, one by one.

Cas.

And let us swear our Resolution.

Bru.

No, not an Oath: if not the Face of Men, The Sufferance of our Souls, the times Abuse; If these be Motives weak, break off betimes, And every Man hence, to his idle Bed: So let high-sighted Tyranny range on, Till each Man drop by Lottery. But if these (As I am sure they do) bear Fire enough To kindle Cowards, and to steal with Valour The melting Spirits of Women. Then Countrymen, What need we any Spur, but our own Cause, To prick us to redress? What other Bond, Then secret Romans, that have spoke the Word, And will not palter? And what other Oath Than Honesty to Honesty ingag'd, That this shall be, or we will fall for it. Swear Priests and Cowards, and Men cautelous Old feeble Carrions, and such suffering Souls That welcome Wrongs: Unto bad Causes, swear Such Creatures as Men doubt; but do not stain The even vertue of our Enterprize, Nor th'insuppressive Mettle of our Spirits, To think, that, or our Cause, or our Performance Did need an Oath. When every drop of Blood That every Roman bears, and Nobly bears, Is guilty of a several Bastardy, If he do break the smallest Particle Of any Promise that hath past from him.

Cas.

But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him? I think he will stand very strong with us.

Cask.

Let us not leave him out.

Cin.

No, by no means.

Metel.

O let us have him! for his Silver Hairs Will purchase us a good opinion:

And buy Mens Voyces, to commend our Deeds: It shall be said, his Judgment rul'd our Hands, Our Youths, and Wildness, shall no whit appear, But all be buried in his Gravity.

Bru.

O name him not; let us not break with him, For he will never follow any thing That other Men begin.

Cas.

Then leave him out.

Cask.

Indeed, he is not fit.

Decius.

Shall no Man else be touch'd; but only Caesar?

Cas.

Decius well urg'd: I think it is not meet, Mark Antony, so well belov'd of Caesar, Should out-live Caesar, we shall find of him A shrewd Contriver. And you know, his means If he improve them, may well stretch so far As to annoy us all: which to prevent, Let Antony and Caesar fall together.

Bru.

Our Course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, To cut the Head off, and then hack the Limbs: Like Wrath in Death, and Envy, afterwards: For Antony is but a Limb of Caesar. Let's be Sacrificers, but not Butchers, Caius: We all stand up against the Spirit of Caesar, And in the Spirit of Men there is no Blood: O that we then could come by Caesar's Spirit, And not dismember Caesar! But (alas!) Caesar must bleed for it. And gentle Friends, Let's kill him Boldly, but not Wrathfully: Let's carve him, as a Dish fit for the Gods, Not hew him as a Carkass fit for Hounds; And let our Hearts, as subtle Masters do, Stir up their Servants to an act of Rage, And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make Our Purpose necessary, and not envious. Which so appearing to the common Eyes, We shall be call'd Purgers, not Murderers. And for Mark Antony, think not of him: For he can do no more than Caesar's arm, When Caesar's Head is off.

Cas.

Yet I fear him, For in the ingrafted Love he bears to Caesar.

Bru.

Alas! good Cassius, do not think of him: If he love Caesar, all that he can do Is to himself; take thought, and dye for Caesar; And that were much he should; for he is given To Sports, to Wildness, and much Company.

Treb.

There is no fear in him; let him not dye, For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.

Clock strikes.

Bru.

Peace, count the Clock.

Cas.

The Clock hath stricken Three.

Treb.

'Tis time to part.

Cass.

But it is doubtful yet, Whether Caesar will come forth to day, or no: For he is Superstitious grown of late, Quite from the main Opinion he held once, Of Fantasie, of Dreams, and Ceremonies: It may be, these apparent Prodigies, The unaccustom'd Terror of this Night, And the Perswasion of his Augurers, May hold him from the Capitol to day.

Decius.

Never fear that: if he be so resolv'd, I can o're-sway him: For he loves to hear, That Unicorns may be betray'd with Trees, And Bears with Glasses, Elephants with Holes, Lyons with Toyls, and Men with Flatterers. But, when I tell him he hates Flatterers, He says, he does; being then most flattered. Let me work: For I can give his Humour the true bent; And I will bring him to the Capitol.

Cas.

Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.

Bru.

By the eighth Hour, is that the uttermost?

Cin.

Be that the uttermost: and fail not then.

Met.

Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey, I wonder none of you have thought of him.

Bru.

Now good Metellus go along by him. He loves me well, and I have given him Reasons, Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

Cas.

The Morning comes upon's: We'll leave you, Brutus, And Friends disperse your selves; but all remember What you have said, and shew your selves true Romans.

Bru.

Good Gentlemen, look fresh and merrily. Let not our Looks put on our Purposes, But bear it as our Roman Actors do, With untyr'd Spirits, and formal Constancy. And so good morrow to you every one.

Exeunt.

Manet Brutus.

Boy: Lucius: Fast asleep? It is no matter, Enjoy the honey-heavy Dew of Slumber: Thou hast no Figures, nor no Fantasies,

Which busie Care draws in the Brains of Men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

Enter Portia.

Por.

Brutus, my Lord.

Bru.

Portia, What mean you? wherefore rise you now? It is not for your Health, thus to commit Your weak Condition to the raw cold Morning.

Por.

Nor for yours neither. Y'have ungently, Brutus, Stole from my Bed: and yesternight at Supper You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, Musing, and fighing, with your arms a cross: And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You star'd upon me, with ungentle Looks. I urg'd you further; then you scratch'd your Head, And too impatiently stamp'd with your Foot: Yet I insisted; yet you answer'd not, But with an angry Wafter of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you; So I did, Fearing to strengthen that Impatience Which seem'd too much inkindled; and withal, Hoping it was but an effect of Humour, Which sometime hath his hour with every Man. It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep; And could it work so much upon your Shape, As it hath much prevail'd on your Condition, I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my Lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of Grief.

Bru.

I am not well in Health, and that is all.

Por.

Brutus is wise, and were he not in Health, He would embrace the means to come by it.

Bru.

Why so I do: good Portia go to bed.

Por.

Is Brutus sick? And is it Physical To walk unbraced, and suck up the humours Of the dank Morning? What, is Brutus sick? And will he steal out of his wholsome Bed To dare the vile Contagion of the Night? And tempt the rheumy, and unpurged Air, To add unto his Sickness? No, my Brutus, You have some sick Offence within your Mind, Which by the Right and Vertue of my place, I ought to know of: And upon my Knees, I charm you, by my once commended Beauty, By all your Vows of Love, and that great Vow Which did incorporate and make us one, That you unfold to me, your self, your half

〈◊〉〈◊〉 you are heavy, and what Men to night 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had Resort to you; for here have been 〈◊〉〈◊〉 six or seven, who did hide their Faces 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from darkness.

Bru.

Kneel not, gentle Portia.

Por.

I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus▪ Within the Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus. Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets That appertain to you? Am I your Self, But as it were in Sort, or Limitation? To keep with you at Meals, comfort your Bed, And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the Suburbs Of your good Pleasure? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus Harlot, not his Wife.

Bru.

You are my true and honourable Wife, As dear to me, as are the ruddy Drops That visit my sad Heart.

Por.

If this were true, then should I know this Secret. I grant I am a Woman; but withall, A Woman that Lord Brutus took to Wife: I grant I am a Woman; but withall, A Woman well reputed: Cato's Daughter. Think you, I am no stronger than my Sex, Being so Father'd and so Husbanded? Tell me your Counsels, I will not disclose 'em: I have made strong Proof of my Constancy, Giving my self a voluntary Wound Here, in the Thigh: Can I bear that with Patience, And not my Husband's Secrets?

Bru.

O ye Gods! Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.

Knock.

Hark, hark, one knocks: Portia go in a while, And by and by thy Bosom shall partake The Secrets of my Heart. All my Engagements I will construe to thee, All the Charactery of my sad Brows: Leave me with haste.

Exit. Portia.

Enter Lucius and Ligarius.

Lucius,

Who's that knocks?

Luc.

Here is a sick Man that would speak with you.

Bru.

Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?

Cai.

Vouchsafe Good Morrow from a feeble Tongue.

Bru.

O what a time have you chose our, brave Caius▪ To wear a Kerchief? Would you were not sick.

Cai.

I am not sick if Brutus have in hand Any Exploit worthy the Name of Honour.

Brut.

Such an Exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, Had you a healthful Ear to hear of it.

Cai.

By all the Gods that Romans bow before, I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome, Brave Son, deriv'd from Honourable Loins, Thou like an Exorcist, hast conjur'd up My mortified Spirit. Now bid me run, And I will strive with things impossible, Yea get the better of them. What's to do?

Bru.

A piece of Work, That will make sick Men whole.

Cai.

But are not some whole, that we must make sick?

Bru.

That must we also. What it is, my Caius, I shall unfold to thee, as we are going, To whom it must be done.

Cai.

Set on your Foot, And with a Heart new-fir'd, I follow you, To do I know not what: but it sufficeth, That Brutus leads me on.

Bru.

Follow me then.

Thunder. Exeunt.

Thunder and Lightning.

Enter Julius Caesar in his Night-Gown.

Caesar.

Nor Heaven, nor Earth, Have been at Peace to night: Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her sleep cryed out; Help, ho: They murther Caesar. Who's within?

Enter a Servant.

Ser.

My Lord.

Caes.

Go bid the Priests do present Sacrifice, And bring me their Opinions of Success.

Ser.

I will, my Lord.

Exit.

Enter Calphurnia.

Cal.

What mean you Caesar, think you to walk forth? You shall not stirr out of your house to day.

Caes.

Caesar shall forth; the things that threaten'd me, Ne're look'd but on my Back: When they shall see The Face of Caesar, they are vanished.

Calp.

Caesar, I never stood on Ceremonies, Yet now they fright me: There is one within, Besides the things that we have heard and seen,

Recounts most horrid Sights seen by the Watch. A Lioness hath whelped in the Streets, And Graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead Fierce fiery Warriours fight upon the Clouds In Ranks and Squadrons, and right form of War, Which drizel'd Blood upon the Capitol: The noise of Battel hurtled in the Air; Horses do neigh, and dying Men did groan, And Ghosts did shriek and squeal about the Streets. O Caesar, these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them.

Caes.

What can be avoided Whose End is purpos'd by the mighty Gods? Yet Caesar shall go forth: for these Predictions Are to the World in general, as to Caesar.

Calp.

When Beggars dye, there are no Comets seen, The Heavens themselves blaze forth the Death of Princes.

Caes.

Cowards dye many times before their Deaths, The valiant never taste of Death but once: Of all the Wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that Men should fear, Seeing that Death, a necessary End, Will come when it will come.

Enter a Servant.

What say the Augurers?

Ser.

They would not have you to stir forth to day. Plucking the Intrails of an Offering forth, They could not find a Heart within the beast.

Caes.

The Gods do this in shame of Cowardise: Caesar should be a Beast without a Heart If he should stay at home to day for fear; No, Caesar shall not; Danger knows full well, That Caesar is more dangerous than he. We hear two Lyons litter'd in one day, And I the elder and more terrible, And Caesar shall go forth.

Calp.

Alas my Lord, Your Wisdom is consum'd in Confidence: Do not go forth to day: call it my Fear, That keeps you in the House, and not your own. We'll send Mark Antony to the Senate-house, And he shall say, you are not well to day: Let me upon my Knee, prevail in this.

Caes.

Mark Antony shall say I am not well, And for thy Humour, I will stay at home.

Enter Decius.

Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.

Deci.

Caesar, all hail: Good morrow worthy Caesar, I come to fetch you to the Senate-house.

Caes.

And you are come in very happy time, To bear my greeting to the Senators, And tell them that I will not come to day: Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser: I will not come to day, tell them so Decius.

Calp.

Say he is sick.

Caes.

Shall Caesar send a Lye? Have I in Conquest stretch'd mine Arm so far, To be afraid to tell Gray-beards the Truth; Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come.

Deci.

Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so.

Caes.

The Cause is in my Will, I will not come, That is enough to satisfie the Senate. But for your private Satisfaction, Because I love you, I will let you know. Calphurnia, here my Wife stays me at home: She dream'd to night, she saw my Statue, Which like a Fountain, with an hundred Spouts, Did run pure Blood; and many lusty Romans Came smiling, and did bath their Hands in it; And these does she apply, for Warnings and Portents, And Evils imminent; and on her Knee Hath begg'd, that I will stay at home to day.

Deci.

This Dream is all amiss interpreted, It was a Vision, fair and fortunate: Your Statue spouting Blood in many Pipes, In which so many smiling Romans bath'd, Signifies, that from you great Rome shall suck Reviving Blood, and that great Men shall press For Tinctures, Stains, Reliques, and Cognisance. This by Calphurnia's Dream is signified.

Caes.

And this way have you well expounded it.

Deci.

I have, when you have heard what I can say. And know it now, the Senate have concluded To give this day a Crown to mighty Caesar. If you shall send them word you will not come, Their Minds may change. Besides, it were a mock Apt to be render'd, for some one to say, Break up the Senate, till another time: When Caesar's Wise shall meet with better Dreams. If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper Loe Caesar is afraid? Pardon me Caesar, for my dear, dear Love To your Proceeding, bids me tell you this:

And Reason to my Love is liable.

Caes.

How foolish do your Fears seem now Calphurnia? I am ashamed I did yield to them. Give me my Robe, for I will go.

Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Caska, Trebonius, Cynna, and Publius.

And look where Publius is come to fetch me.

Pub.

Good morrow Caesar.

Caes.

Welcome Publius. What Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? Good morrow Caska; Caius Ligarius, Caesar was ne're so much your Enemy, As that same Ague which hath made you lean. What is't a Clock?

Bru.

Caesar, 'tis strucken Eight.

Caes.

I thank you for your Pains and Courtesie.

Enter Antony.

See, Antony that revels long a-nights Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow Antony.

Ant.

So to most Noble Caesar.

Caes.

Bid them prepare within: I am to blame to be thus waited for. Now Cynna, now Metellus: what Trebonius, I have an hours talk in store for you; Remember that you call on me to day; Be near me, that I may remember you.

Treb.

Caesar I will: and so near will I be, That your best Friends shall with I had been further.

Caes.

Good Friends go in, and taste some Wine with me, And we (like Friends) will straightway go together.

Bru.

That every like is not the same, O Caesar, The Heart of Brutus earns to think upon.

Exeunt.

Enter Artemidorus.

Caesar, beware of Brutus, take beed of Cassius; come not near Caska, have an eye to Cynna, trust not Trebonius, mark well Metellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loves thee not: Thou hast wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one Mind in all these Men, and it is bent against Caesar If thou beest not Im∣mortal, look about you. Security gives way to Conspiracy. The mighty Gods defend thee. Thy Lover, Artemidorus.

Here will I stand, till Caesar pass along, And as a Suitor will I give him this:

My heart laments, that Vertue cannot live Out of the teeth of Emulation. If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live, If not, the Fates with Traitors do contrive.

Exit.

Enter Portia and Lucius.

Por.

I prethee Boy, run to the Senate-house, Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone. Why doest thou stay?

Luc.

To know my Errand, Madam.

Por.

I would have had thee there and here agen 'Ere I can tell thee what thou should'st do there: O Constancy, be strong upon my side. Set a huge Mountain 'tween my Heart and Tongue: I have a Mans Mind, but a Womans Might: How hard it is for Women to keep Counsel. Art thou here yet?

Luc.

Madam, what should I do? Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? And so return to you, and nothing else?

Por.

Yes, bring me word Boy, if thy Lord look well, For he went sickly forth: and take good note What Caesar doth, what Sutors press to him. Hark Boy, what Noise is that?

Luc.

I hear none, Madam.

Por.

Prithee listen well: I heard a bussling Rumour like a Fray, And the Wind brings it from the Capitol.

Luc.

Sooth Madam, I hear nothing.

Enter the Soothsayer.

Por.

Come hither Fellow, which way hast thou been?

Sooth.

At mine own House, good Lady,

Por.

What is't a Clock?

Sooth.

About the ninth hour Lady.

Por.

Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?

Sooth.

Madam, not yet, I go to take my Stand. To see him pass on to the Capitol.

Por.

Thou hast some Suit to Caesar, hast thou not?

Sooth.

That I have Lady, if it will please Caesar To be so good to Caesar, as to hear me: I shall beseech him to befriend himself.

Por.

Why know'st thou any harm's intended towards him?

Sooth.

None that I know will be. Much that I fear may chance:

Good morrow to you; here the street is narrow; The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, Of Senators, of Praetors, common Sutors, Will crowd a feeble man (almost) to Death; I'll get me to a place more void, and there Speak to great Caesar as he comes along.

Exit.

Por.

I must go in: Aye me! How weak a thing The Heart of Woman is? O Brutus, The Heavens speed thee in thine enterprize. Sure the Boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint; Run Lucius, and commend me to my Lord, Say I am merry; Come to me again, And bring me word what he doth say to thee.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius.

Flowrish.

Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Metellus, Tre∣bonius, Cynna, Antony, Lepidus, Artimedorus, Pub∣lius, and the Soothsayer.

Caes.

The Ides of March are come.

Sooth.

I Caesar, but not gone.

Art.

Hail Caesar: Read this Scedule.

Deci.

Trebonius doth desire you to o're-read (At your best leisure) this his humble suit.

Art.

O Caesar, read mine first: for mine's a suit That touches Caesar nearer. Read it great Caesar.

Caes.

What touches us our self, shall be last serv'd.

Art.

Delay not Caesar, read it instantly.

Caes.

What, is the Fellow mad?

Pub.

Sirrah, give place.

Cassi.

What, urge you your Petitions in the Street? Come to the Capitol.

Popil.

I wish your Enterprize day may thrive.

Cassi.

What Enterprize, Popillius?

Popil.

Fare you well.

Bru.

What said Popillius Len••?

Cassi.

He wisht to day our Enterprize might thrive: I fear our Purpose is discovered.

Bru.

Look how he makes to Caesar; mark him.

Cassi.

Caska be sudden, for we fear Prevention. Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, For I will slay my self.

Bru.

Cassius be constant: Popillius Len•• speaks not of our Purposes, For look he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.

Cassi.

Trebonius knows his time: for look you Brutus, He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

Deci.

Where is Metellus Cymber, let him go, And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.

Bru.

He is addrest: press near, and second him.

Cin.

Caska, you are the first that rears your hand.

Caes.

Are we all ready? What is now amiss, That Caesar and his Senate must redress?

Metel.

Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, Metellus Cymber throws before thy Seat An humble Heart.

Caes.

I must prevent thee Cymber: These Couchings, and these lowly Courtesies Might fire the Blood of ordinary Man, And turn pre-Ordinance, and first Decree, Into the Lane of Children. Be not fond To think that Caesar bears such Rebel-blood That will be thaw'd from the true Quality With that which melteth Fools, I mean sweet words, Low-crooked-curtesies, and base Spaniel Fawning: Thy Brother by decree is banished: If thou doest bend, and pray, and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a Curr out of my way: Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied.

Metel.

Is there no Voice more worthy than my own▪ To sound more sweetly in great Caesars ear, For the repealing of my banish'd Brother?

Brut.

I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery Caesar: Desiring thee, that Publius Cymber may Have an immediate freedom of repeal.

Caes.

What Brutus?

Cassi.

Pardon Caesar: Caesar pardon: As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, To beg infranchisement for Publius Cymber.

Caes.

I could be well mov'd, if I were as you, If I could pray to move, prayers, would move me: But I am constant as the Northern Star, Of whose true fixt, and resting quality,

There is no fellow in the Firmament. The Skies are painted with unnumbred sparks, They are all Fire, and every one doth shine: But, there's but one in all doth hold his place. So, in the World; 'Tis furnish'd well with Men, And Men are Flesh and Blood, and apprehensive; Yet in the number, I do know but One That unassaylable holds on his Rank, Unshak'd of Motion: and that I am he, Let me a little shew it, even in this: That I was constant Cymber should be banish'd, And constant do remain to keep him so.

Cinna.

O Caesar.

Caes.

Hence: Wilt thou lift up Olympus?

Decius.

Great Caesar.

Caes.

Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?

Cask.

Speak hands for me.

They stab Caesar.

Caes.

Et tu Brute?—Then fall Caesar.

Dyes.

Cin.

Liberty, Freedom; Tyranny is dead, Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the Streets.

Cassi.

Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out Liberty, Freedom, and Enfranchisement.

Brut.

People and Senators, be not affrighted; Fly not, stand still: Ambitions debt is paid.

Cask.

Go to the Pulpit Brutus.

Dec.

And Cassius too.

Brut.

Where's Publius?

Cin.

Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.

Met.

Stand fast together, lest some Friend of Caesars Should chance—

Brut.

Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer, There is no harm intended to your person, Nor to no Roman else: so tell them Publius.

Cassi.

And leave us Publius, lest that the people Rushing on us, should do your Age some mischief.

Brut.

Do so, and let no man abide this deed, But we the Doers.

Enter Trebonius.

Cassi.

Where is Antony?

Treb.

Fled to his House amaz'd: Men, Wives, and Children, stare, cry out, and run, As it were Doomsday.

Bru.

Fates, we will know your pleasures: That we shall dye we know, 'tis but the time And drawing days out, that men stand upon.

Cask.

Why he that cuts off twenty years of life, Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

Bru.

Grant that, and then is death a benefit: So are we Caesars Friends, that have abrig'd His time of fearing death. Stoop Romans, stoop, And let us bath our hands in Caesars blood Up to the Elbows, and besmear our Swords: Then walk we forth, even to the Market place And waving our red Weapons o're our heads, Let's all cry Peace, Freedom, and Liberty.

Cassi.

Stoop then, and wash. How many Ages hence Shall this our lofty Scene be acted over, In State unborn, and Accents yet unknown?

Bru.

How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport? That now on Pompeys Basis lye along, No worthyer then the dust?

Cass.

So oft as that shall be, So often shall the knot of us be call'd, The Men that gave their Country Liberty.

Dec.

What, shall we forth?

Cass.

I, every man away. Brutus shall lead, and we will grace his heels With the most boldest, and best hearts of Rome.

Enter a Servant.

Bru.

Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antonys.

Ser.

Thus Brutus did my Master bid me kneel; Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down, And being prostrate, thus he bad me say: Brutus is Noble, Wise, Valiant, and Honest; Caesar was Mighty, Bold, Royal, and Loving: Say, I love Brutus, and I honour him; Say, I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him, and lov'd him. If Brutus will vouchsafe, that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolv'd How Caesar hath deserv'd to lye in death, Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead So well as Brutus living; but will follow The Fortunes and Affairs of Noble Brutus, Through the hazards of this untrod State, With all true Faith. So says my Master Antony.

Bru.

Thy Master is a Wise and Valiant Roman, I never thought him worse: Tell him, so please him come unto this place He shall be satisfied: and by my Honour Depart untouch'd.

Ser.

Ile fetch him presently.

Exit Servant.

Bru.

I know that we shall have him well to Friend.

Cassi.

I wish we may: But yet have I a mind That fears him much: and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose.

Enter Antony.

Bru.

But here comes Antony: Welcome Mark Antony.

Ant.

O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lye so low? Are all thy Conquests, Glories, Triumphs, Spoils, Shrunk to this little Measure? Fare thee well. I know not Gentlemen what you intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: If I my self, there is no hour so fit▪ As Caesars deaths hour; nor no Instrument Of half that worth, as those your Swords; made rich With the most Noble blood of all this World. I do beseech yee, if you bear me hard, Now, whil'st your purpled hands do reek and smoak, Fulfill your pleasure. Live a Thousand years, I shall not find my self so apt to dye. No place will please me so, no mean of death, As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, The Choice and Master Spirits of this Age.

Bru.

O Antony! Beg not your death of us: Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As by our hands, and this our present Act You see we do: Yet see you but our hands, And this, the bleeding business they have done, Our hearts you see not, they are pittifull. And pitty to the general wrong of Rome, As fire drives out fire, so pitty, pitty Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, To you, our Swords have leaden points Mark Antony: Our Arms in strength of malice, and our hearts Of Brothers temper, do receive you in, With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.

Cass.

Your voyce shall be as strong as any mans, In the disposing of new Dignities.

Bru.

Only be patient, till we have appeas'd The Multitude, beside themselves with fear, And then, we will deliver you the cause, Why I, that did love Caesar when I strook him, Have thus proceeded.

Ant.

I doubt not of your Wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand.

First Marcus Brutus will I shake with you; Next Caius Cassius do I take your hand; Now Decius Brutus yours; now yours Metellus; Yours Cinna; and my valiant Caska, yours; Though last, not least in love, yours good Trebonius, Gentlemen all: Alas, what shall I say? My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a Coward or a Flatterer. That I did love thee Caesar, O 'tis true: If then thy Spirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee dearer then thy death, To see thy Antony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes? Most Noble, in the presence of thy Coarse, Had I as many eyes, as thou hast wounds, Weeping as fast as they streamforth thy blood. It would become me better, then to close In terms of Friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me Julius, here wast thou bay'd brave Hart, Here did'st thou fall, and here thy Hunters stand Sign'd in thy Spoil, and Crimson'd in thy Lethee. O World! thou wast the Forrest to this Hart, And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee. How like a Deer, stroken by many Princes, Dost thou here lye?

Cass.

Mark Antony,

Ant.

Pardon me Caius Cassius: The Enemies of Caesar shall say this: Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modesty.

Cass.

I blame you not for praising Caesar so, But what compact mean you to have with us? Will you be prick'd in number of our Friends, Or shall we on, and not depend on you?

Ant.

Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar. Friends am I with you all, and love you all, Upon this hope, that you shall give me Reasons, Why and wherein, Caesar was dangerous.

Bru.

Or else were this a savage Spectacle, Our Reasons are so full of good regard, That were you Antony, the Son of Caesar, You should be satisfied.

Ant.

That's all I seek, And am moreover sutor, that I may Produce his body to the Market place, And in the Pulpit as becomes a Friend,

Speak in the Order of his Funerall.

Bru.

You shall Mark Antony.

Cassi.

Brutus, a word with you: You know not what you do; Do not consent That Antony speak in his Funerall: Know you how much the people may be mov'd By that which he will utter?

Bru.

By your pardon: I will my self into the Pulpit first, And shew the reason of our Caesars death. What Antony shall speak, I will protest He speaks by leave, and by permission: And that we are contented Caesar shall Have all true Rites, and lawful Ceremonies, It shall advantage more, then do us wrong.

Cassi.

I know not what may fall, I like it not.

Bru.

Mark Antony, here take you Caesars body: You shall not in your Funerall speech blame us, But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, And say you do't by our permission: Else shall you not have any hand at all About his Funerall. And you shall speak In the same Pulpit whereto I am going, After my speech is ended.

Ant.

Be it so: I do desire no more.

Bru.

Prepare the body then, and follow us.

Exeunt.

Manet Antony.

O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of Earth: That I am meek and gentle with these Butchers. Thou art the Ruines of the Noblest man That ever lived in the Tide of Times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly Blood. Over thy wounds, now do I Prophesie, (Which like dumb mouths do ope their Ruby lips, To beg the voyce and utterance of my Tongue) A Curse shall light upon the limbs of men; Domestick Fury, and fierce Civil strife, Shall cumber all the parts of Italy: Blood and destruction shall be so in use, And dreadfull Objects so familiar, That Mothers shall but smile, when they behold Their Infants quartered with the hands of War: All pitty choak'd with custom of fell deeds, And Caesars Spirit ranging for Revenge, With Ate by his side, come hot from Hell, Shall in these Confines with a Monarks voyce,

Cry havock, and let slip the Dogs of War, That this foul deed, shall smell above the Earth With Carrion men, groaning for Buriall.

Enter Octavio's Servant.

You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?

Ser.

I do Mark Antony.

Ant.

Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.

Ser.

He did receive his Letters, and is coming, And bid me say to you by word of mouth— O Caesar!

Ant.

Thy heart is big: get thee a-part and weep: Passion I see is catching from mine eyes, Seeing those Beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water. Is thy Master coming?

Ser.

He lies to night within seven Leagues of Rome.

Ant.

Post back with speed, And tell him what hath chanc'd: Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, No Rome of safety for Octavius yet, Hye hence, and tell him so. Yet stay a while, Thou shalt not back, till I have born this coarse Into the Market place: There shall I try In my Oration, how the People take The cruell issue of these bloody men; According to the which` thou shalt discourse To young Octavius, of the state of things. Lend me your hand.

Exeunt.

Enter Brutus and goes into the Pulpit, and Cassius, with the Plebeians.

Ple.

We will be satisfied: let us be satisfied,

Bru.

Then follow me, and give me Audience friends. Cassius go you into the other street, And part the Numbers: Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here; Those that will follow Cassius, go with him, And publick Reasons shall be rendred Of Caesars death.

1. Ple.

I will hear Brutus speak: 2. I will hear Cassius, and compare their Reasons, When severally we hear them rendred. 3. The Noble Brutus is ascended: Silence.

Bru.

Be patient till the last.

Romans, Countrey-men, and Lovers, hear me for my cause, and be silent,

that you may hear. Believe me for mine Honour, and have respect to mine Honour, that you may believe. Censure me in your Wisdom, and awake your Senses, that you may the better Judge. If there be any in this Assembly, any dear Friend of Caesars, to him I say, that Brutus love to Caesar, was no less then his. If then that Friend demand, why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: Not that I lov'd Caesar less, but that I lov'd Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and dye all Slaves; then that Caesar were dead, to live all Free-men? As Caesar lov'd me, I weep for him; as he was Fortunate, I rejoyce at it; as he was Valiant, I honour him: But, as he was Ambitious, I slew him. There is Tears, for his love: Joy, for his Fortune: Honour, for his Valour: And Death, for his Ambition. Who is here so base, that would be a Bondman? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman? If any, speak, for him have I offend∣ed. Who is here so vile, that will not love his Country? If any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a Reply.

All.

None Brutus, none.

Brutus.

Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar, then you shall do to Brutus. The Question of his death, is inroll'd in the Capitoll: his Glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforc'd, for which he suffered death.

Enter Mark Antony, with Caesars body.

Here comes his Body, mourn'd by Mark Antony, who though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the Common∣wealth, as which of you shall not? With this I depart, that as I slew my best Lover for the good of Rome, I have the same Dagger for my self, when it shall please my Country to need my death.

All.

Live Brutus, live, live.

1. Bring him with Triumph home unto his house. 2. Give him a Statue with his Ancestors. 3. Let him be Caesar. 4. Caesars better parts Shall be Crown'd in Brutus. 1. We'll bring him to his House, With Showts and Clamors.

Bru.

My Country-men. 2. Peace, Silence, Brutus speaks. 1. Peace ho.

Bru.

Good Countrymen, let me depart alone. And (for my sake) stay here with Antony: Do grace to Caesars Corps, and grace his Speech Tending to Caesars Glories, which Mark Antony (By our permission) is allow'd to make. I do intreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone till Antony have spoke.

Exit.

1. Stay ho, and let us hear Mark Antony

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3. Let him go up into the publick Chair, We'll hear him: Noble Antony go up.

Ant.

For Brutus sake, I am beholding to you. 4. What does he say of Brutus? 3. He says, for Brutus sake He finds himself beholding to us all. 4. 'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here? 1 This Caesar was a Tyrant. 3. Nay that's certain: We are blest that Rome is rid of him. 2. Peace, let us hear what Antony can say.

Ant.

You gentle Romans.

All.

Peace ho, let us hear him.

Ant.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your, ears, I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him: The evil that men do, lives after them, The good is oft enterred with their bones, So let it be with Caesar. The Noble Brutus, Hath told you Caesar was Ambitious: If it were so it was a grievous Fault. And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it. Here under leave of Brutus, and the rest (For Brutus is an Honourable man, So are they all; all Honourable men) Come I to speak in Caesars Funerall, He was my Friend, faithful, and just to me; But Brutus says, he was Ambitious, And Brutus is an Honourable man. He hath brought many Captives home to Rome, Whose Ransoms did the general Coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem Ambitious? When that the Poor have cry'd, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff, Yet Brutus says, he was Ambitious: And Brutus is an Honourable man. You all did see, that on the Lupercall, I thrice presented him a Kingly Crown. Which he did thrice refuse. Was this Ambition? Yet Brutus says, he was Ambitious, And sure he is an Honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know; You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause with-holds you then, to mourn for him? O Judgment! thou art fled to brutish Beasts, And Men have lost their Reason. Bear with me, My heart is in the Coffin there with Caesar,

And I must pause, till it come back to me. 1 Methinks there is much reason in his sayings▪ 2 If thou consider rightly of the matter, Caesar has had great wrong. 3 Has he Masters? I fear there will a worse come in his place▪ 4. Mark'd ye his words? he would not take the Crown, Therefore 'tis certain, he was not Ambitious. 1. If it be found so, some will deer abide it. 2. Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping. 3. There's not a Nobler man in Rome then Antony. 4. Now mark him, he begins again to speak.

Ant.

But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the World: Now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. O Masters! If I were dispos'd to stin Your hearts and minds to Mutiny and Rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong: Who (you all know) are Honourable men. I will not do them wrong: I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong my self and you, Then I will wrong such Honourable men. But here's a Parchment, with the Seal of Caesar, I found it in his Closet, 'tis his Will: Let but the Commons hear this Testament: (Which pardon me) I do not mean to read, And they would go and kiss dead Caesars wounds. And dip their Napkins in his Sacred Blood; Yea, beg a hair of him for Memory, And dying, mention it within their Wills, Bequeathing it as a rich Legacy Unto their Issue. 4. We'll hear the Will, read, it Mark Antony.

All.

The Will, the Will; we will hear Caesars Will.

Ant.

Have patience gentle Friends, I must not read it. It is not meet you know how Caesar lov'd you: You are not Wood, you are not Stones, but men: And being men, hearing the Will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad; 'Tis good you know not that you are his Heirs, For if you should, O what will come of it? 4. Read the Will, we'll hear it Antony: You shall read us the Will, Caesars Will.

Ant.

Will you be patient? Will you stay a while? I have o're-shot my self to tell you of it, I fear I wrong the Honourable men, Whose Daggers have stab'd Caesar: I do fear it.

4. They were Traitors: Honourable men?

All.

The Will, the Testament. 2 They were Villains, Murderers: the Will, read the Will.

Ant.

You will compell me then to read the Will: Then make a Ring about the Corps of Caesar, And let me shew you him that made the Will: Shall I descend? And will you give me leave?

All.

Come down. 2 Descend. 3 You shall have leave. 4 A Ring, stand round. 1 Stand from the Hearse, stand from the Body. 2 Room for Antony, most Noble Antony.

Ant.

Nay press not so upon me, stand far off.

All.

Stand back: room, bear back.

Ant.

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this Mantle I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on, 'Twas on a Summers Evening in his Tent, That day he overcame the Nervii▪ Look, in this place ran Cassius Dagger through: See what a rent the envious Caska made: Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stab'd, And as he pluck'd his cursed Steel away: Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd If Brutus so unkindly knock'd or no: For Brutus, as you know, was Caesars Angel. Judge, O ye Gods, how dearly Caesar lov'd him. This was the most unkindest cut of all. For when the Noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong then Traitors arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his Mighty heart, And in his Mantle, Muffling up his face, Even at the Base of Pompeys Statue (Which all the while ran blood) great Caesar fell. O what a fall was there, my Countrymen? Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whil'st bloody Treason flourish'd over us. O now you weep, and I perceive you feel The dint of pitty: These are gracious drops. Kind Souls, what weep you, when you but behold Our Caesars Vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is Himself, mar'd as you see with Traitors. 1 O pittyous spectacle! 2 O Noble Caesar! 3 O woful day! 4 O Traitors, Villains!

1. O most bloody sight! 2. We will be reveng'd: Revenge About, seek, burn, fire, kill, slay, Let not a Traitor live.

Ant.

Stay Countrymen. 1. Peace there, hear the Noble Antony. 2. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.

Ant.

Good Friends, sweet Friends, let me not stir you up. To such a sudden Flood of Mutiny: They that have done this Deed, are Honourable. What private griefs they have, alas I know not, That made them do it: They are Wise, and Honourable, And will no doubt with Reasons answer you. I come not (Friends) to steal away your hearts, I am no Orator, as Brutus is; But (as you know me all) a plain blunt man That love my Friend, and that they know full well, That gave me publick leave to speak of him; For I have neither writ nor words, nor worth, Action, nor Utterance, nor the power of Speech, To stir mens Blood. I only speak right on: I tell you that, which you your selves do know, Shew you sweet Caesars wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths And bid them speak for me: But were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony, Would ruffle up your Spirits, and put a Tongue In every wound of Caesar, that should move That stones of Rome, to rise and Mutiny.

All.

We'll Mutiny. 1 We'll burn the house of Brutus. 3 Away then, come, seek the Conspirators.

Ant.

Yet hear me Countrymen, yet hear me speak.

All.

Peace ho, hear Antony, most Noble Antony.

Ant.

Why Friends, you go to do you know not what: Wherein hath Caesar thus deserv'd your loves? Alas you know not, I must tell you then: You have forgot the Will I told you of.

All.

Most true, the Will, let's stay and hear the Will.

Ant.

Here is the Will, and under Caesars Seal: To every Roman Citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy five Drachmaes.

2 Ple.

Most Noble Caesar, we'll revenge his death.

3 Ple.

O Royal Caesar▪

Ant.

Hear me with patience.

All.

Peace ho.

Ant.

Moreover, he hath left you all his Walks, His private Arbors, and new-planted Orchards,

On this side Tyber, he hath left them you, And to your Heirs for ever: common pleasures To walk abroad, and Recreate your selves. Here was a Caesar: when comes such another?

1. Ple.

Never, never: come, away, away: We'll burn his body in the Holy Place, And with the Brands fire the Traitors houses. Take up the Body.

2. Ple.

Go fetch fire.

3. Ple.

Pluck down Benches.

4. Ple.

Pluck down Forms, Windows, any thing.

Exeunt Plebians.

Ant.

Now let it work: Mischief thou art a foot, Take thou what course thou wilt. How now Fellow?

Enter Servant.

Ser.

Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.

Ant.

Where is he?

Ser.

He and Lepidus are at Caesars house.

Ant.

And thither will I straight, to visit him: He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry, And in this mood will give us any thing.

Ser.

I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius Are rid like Madmen through the Gates of Rome.

Ant.

Belike they had some notice of the People, How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius.

Exeunt.

Enter Cinna the Poet, and after him the Plebeians.

Cinna.

I dreamt to night, that I did feast with Caesar. And things unluckily charge my Fantasie: I have no will to wander forth of doors, Yet something leads me Forth. 1. What is your yame? 2. Whether are you going? 3. Where do you dwell? 4. Are you a married Man or a Batchellor? 2. Answer every man directly. 1. I, and briefly. 4. I, and wisely. 3. I, and truly, you were best.

Cin.

What is my Name? Whither am I going? Where do I w••ll? Am I a married man or a Batchellour? Then to answer every Man, directly and briefly, wisely and truly: wisely I say, I am a Batchellor.

2. That's as much as to say, they are Foors that marry: you'll bear me a Bang for that I fear: proceed directly.

Cinna.

Directly I am going to Caesar's Funeral. 1. As a Friend, or an Enemy?

Cinna.

As a Friend. 2. That matter is answered directly. 4. For your dwelling; briefly.

Cinna.

Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol. 3. Your Name Sir, truly.

Cinna.

Truly, my Name is Cinna. 1. Tear him to pieces, he's a Conspirator.

Cinna.

I am Cinna the Poet, I am Cinna the Poet. 4. Tear him for his bad Verses, tear him for his bad Verses.

Cin.

I am not Cinna the Conspirator.

4. It is no matter, his name's Cinna, pluck but his Name out of his Heart, and turn him going.

3. Tear him, tear him; Come, Brands ho, Firebrands: to Brutus, to Cas∣sius, burn all. Some to Decius House, and some to Caska's; some to Ligari∣us. Away, go.

Exeunt all the Plebeians.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus.

Ant.

These many then shall dye, their Names are prick'd.

Octa.

Your Brother too must dye; consent you Lepidus?

Lep.

I do consent.

Octa.

Prick him down Antony.

Lep.

Upon Condition Publius shall not live, Who is your Sisters Son, Mark Antony.

Ant.

He shall not live; look, with a Spot I dam him, But Lepidus, go you to Caesar's house: Fetch the Will hither, and we shall determine How to cut off some charge in Legacies.

Lep.

What? shall I find you here?

Octa.

Or here, or at the Capitol.

Exit. Lepidus.

Ant.

This is a slight unmeritable man, Meet to be sent on Errands: is it fit The three-fold World divided, he should stand One of the three to share it?

Octa.

So you thought him, And took his Voice who should be prick'd to dye In our black Sentence and Proscription

Ant.

Octavius, I have seen more days than you; And though we lay these Honours on this Man,

To ease our selves of divers stand'rous Lords, He shall but bear them, as the Ass bears Gold, To groan and sweat under the Business, Either led or driven, as we point the way: And having brought our Treasure, where we will, Then take we down his Load, and turn him off (Like to the empty Ass) to shake his Ears, And graze in Commons.

Octa.

You may do your Will: But he's a tryed, and valiant Souldier.

Ant.

So is my Horse Octavius, and for that I do appoint him store of Provender. It is a Creature that I teach to fight, To wind, to stop, to run directly on: His corporal motion, govern'd by my Spirit, And in some taste, is Lepidus but so: He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth: A barren spirited Fellow; one that feeds On Objects, Arts, and Imitations. Which out of use, and stal'd by other men Begin his Fashion. Do not talk of him, But as a Property: and now Octavius, Listen great things. Brutus and Cassius Are levying Powers; We must straight make head: Therefore let our Alliance be combin'd, Our best Friends made, our means stretch'd, And let us presently go sit in Councel, How covert matters may be best disclos'd, And open Perils surest answered.

Octa.

Let us do so: for we are at the Stake, And bayed about with many Enemies, And some that smile have in their Hearts I fear Millions of mischiefs.

Exeunt.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucillius, and the Army. Titinius and Pindarus meet them.

Bru.

Stand ho.

Lucil.

Give the Word ho, and stand.

Bru.

What now Lucillius, is Cassius near?

Lucil.

He is at hand, and Pindarus is come To do you Salutation from his Master.

Bru.

He greets me well. Your Master Pindarus▪ In his own Change, or by ill Officers, Hath given me some worthy cause to wish, Things done, undone: But if he be at hand I shall be satisfied.

Pin.

I do not doubt But that my Noble Master will appear Such as he is, full of Regard and Honour.

Bru.

He is not doubted. A word Lucillius How he receiv'd you: let me be resolv'd.

Lucil.

With Courtesie, and with Respect enough, But not with such familiar Instances, Nor with such free and friendly Conference As he hath us'd of old.

Bru.

Thou hast describ'd A hot Friend, cooling: Ever note Lucillius, When Love begins to sicken and decay It useth an enforced Ceremony. There are no Tricks, in plain and simple Faith: But hollow men, like Horses hot at hand, Make gallant shew, and promise of their Mettle:

Low March with••••▪

But when they should endure the bloody Spur, They fall their Crests, and like deceitful Jades Sink in the Tryal. Comes his Army on?

Lucil.

They mean this Night in Sardis to be quarter'd: The greater part, the Horse in general Are come with Cassius.

Enter Cassius and his Powers.

Bru.

Hark, he is arriv'd; March gently on to meet him.

Cassi.

Stand ho.

Bru.

Stand ho, speak the Word along. Stand. Stand. Stand.

Cassi.

Most Noble Brother, you have done me wrong.

Bru.

Judge me you Gods; wrong I mine Enemies? And if not so, how should I wrong a Brother?

Cassi.

Brutus, this sober Form of yours hides Wrongs, And when you do them—

Brut.

Cassius, be content. Speak your griefs softly, I do know you well. Before the Eyes of both our Armies here (Which should perceive nothing but Love from us) Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away: Then in my Tent Cassius enlarge your Griefs, And I will give you Audience.

Cassi.

Pindarus, Bid our Commanders lead their Charges off

A little from this Ground.

Bru.

Lucillius, do you the like, and let no Man Come to our Tent, till we have done our Conference. Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.

Exeunt.

Manet Brutus and Cassius.

Cassi.

That you have wrong'd me, doth appear in this: You have condemn'd, and noted Lucius Pella For taking Bribes here of the Sardians; Wherein my Letters, praying on his side, Because I knew the Man was slighted off.

Bru.

You wrong'd your self to write in such a Case.

Cassi.

In such a time as this, it is not meet That every nice Offence should bear his Comment.

Bru.

Let me tell you Cassius, you your self Are much condemn'd to have an itching Palm, To sell, and mart your Offices for Gold To Undeservers.

Cassi.

I an itching Palm? You know that you are Brutus that speaks 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.

Cassi.

Chastisement?

Bru.

Remember March, the Ides of March remember: Did not great Julius bleed for Justice sake? What Villain touch'd his Body, that did stab, And not for Justice? What? Shall one of Us, That struck the fore-most man of all this World, 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, Than such a Roman.

Cassi.

Brutus, bait not me, I'll not indure it: you forget your self To hedge me in. I am a Souldier, I, Older in Practice, abler than your self To make Conditions.

Bru.

Go too: you are not Cassius.

Cassi.

I am.

Bru.

I say, you are not.

Cassi.

Urge me no more, I shall forget my self; Have mind upon your Health: Tempt me no farther.

Bru.

Away slight man.

Cassi.

Is't possible?

Bru.

Hear me, for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash Choler? Shall I be frighted when a Mad-man stares?

Cassi.

O ye Gods, ye Gods, Must I endure all this?

Bru.

All this? I more: Fret till your proud Heart break. Go shew your Slaves how cholerick you are, And make your Bondmen tremble. Must I bow? 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, I'll use you for my Mirth, yea for my Laughter When you are Waspish.

Cassi.

Is it come to this?

Bru.

You say, you are a better Souldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of Noble-men.

Cass.

You wrong me every way: You wrong me Brutus: I said, an Elder Souldier, not a Better. Did I say Better?

Bru.

If you did, I care not.

Cass.

When Caesar liv'd, he durst not thus have mov'd me.

Brut.

Peace, Peace, you durst not so have tempted him.

Cassi.

I durst not?

Brut.

No.

Cassi.

What? durst not tempt him?

Bru.

For your Life you durst not.

Cassi.

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 deny'd me, For I can raise no money by vile means: By Heaven, I had rather coin my Heart, And drop my Blood for Drachmaes, 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 deny'd 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 Thunder-bolts,

Dash him to pieces.

Cassi.

I deny'd you not.

Bru.

You did.

Cassi.

I did not. He was but a Fool That brought my Answer back. Brutus hath riv'd my heart: A Friend should bear his Friends Infirmities; But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Bru.

I do not, till you practice them on me.

Cassi.

You love me not.

Bru.

I do not like your Faults.

Cassi.

A friendly Eye could never see such Faults.

Bru.

A Flatterers would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.

Cassi.

Come Antony, and young Octavius come, Revenge your selves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is a-weary of the World: Hated by one he loves, brav'd by his Brother, Cheek'd like a Bond-man, all his Faults observ'd; Set in a Note-Book, learn'd, and con'd by roat 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 Pluto's Mine, richer than Gold: If that thou bee'st a Roman, take it forth. I that deny'd thee Gold, will give my Heart; Strike as thou did'st at Caesar; For I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou loved'st him better Than ever thou loved'st Cassius.

Bru.

Sheath your Dagger: Be angry when you will, it shall have Scope: Do what you will, Dishonour shall be Humour. O Cassius, you are yoaked with a Lamb That carries Anger, as the Flint bears Firo, Who much inforced, shews a hasty Spark, And strait is cold agen.

Cassi.

Hath Cassius 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.

Cassi.

Do you confess so much? Give me your Hand.

Bru.

And my Heart too.

Cassi.

O Brutus.

Bru.

What's the matter?

Cassi.

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 from henceforth

When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your Mother chides, and leave you so.

Enter a Poet.

Poet.

Let me go in to see the Generals, There is some Grudge between 'em; 'tis not meet They be alone.

Lucil.

You shall not come to them.

Poet.

Nothing but Death shall stay me.

Cassi.

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 Cynick rhyme?

Bru.

Get you hence Sirrah: Sawcy 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, be gone.

Exit Poet.

Bru.

Lucillius and Titinius bid the Commanders Prepare to lodge their Companies to night.

Cas.

And come your selves, and bring Messala with you Immediately to us.

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?

Bru.

She is dead.

Cas.

How scap'd I killing, when I crost you so? O insupportable and touching loss! 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 Tydings came. With this she fell distract, And (her Attendants absent) swallow'd fire.

Cas.

And dy'd so?

Bru.

Even so.

Cas.

O ye Immortal Gods!

Enter Boy with Wine and Tapers.

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 o're-swell the Cup: I cannot drink too much of Brutus Love.

Enter Titinius and Messala.

Brut.

Come in Titinius: Welcome good Messala; Now sit we close about this Taper here, And call in question our Necessities.

Cassi.

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.

Mess.

My self have Letters of the self-same Tenure.

Bru.

With what Addition?

Mess.

That by Proscription, and bills of Outlary, Octavius, 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, Cicero being one.

Cassi.

Cicero one?

Messa.

Cicero is dead, and by that order of Proscription Had you your Letters from your Wife, my Lord?

Bru.

No Messala.

Messa.

Nor nothing in your Letters writ of her?

Bru.

Nothing Messala.

Messa.

That methinks is strange.

Bru.

Why ask you? Hear you ought of her in yours?

Messa.

No my Lord.

Bru.

Now as you are a Roman tell me true.

Messa.

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

Bru.

Why farewel Portia: We must dye Messala: With meditating that she must dye once, I have the Patience to endure it now.

Messa.

Even so great Men great Losses should endure.

Cassi.

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?

Cassi.

I do not think it good.

Bru.

Your reason?

Cassi.

This it is: 'Tis better that the Enemy seek us, So shall he waste his Means, weary his Souldiers, 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 forc'd affection: For they have grudg'd us Contribution. The Enemy, marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number up, Come on refresh'd, new added, and encourag'd: From which advantage shall we cut him off. If at Philippi we do face him there, These People at our back.

Cassi.

Hear me good Brother.

Bru.

Under your pardon. You must note beside, That we have try'd the utmost of our Friends: Our Legions are brim full, our Cause is ripe, The Enemy encreaseth 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 a-float, And we must take the Current when it serves, Or lose our Ventures.

Cassi.

Then with your Will go on: we'll along Our selves, 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.

Cassi.

No more, good night, Early to morrow will we rise, and hence.

Enter Lucius.

Bru.

Lucius, my Gown: farewel good Messala, Good night Titinius; Noble, Noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose.

Cassi.

O my dear Brother; This was an ill beginning of the Night; Never come such Division 'tween our Souls: Let it not Brutus.

Enter Lucius with the Gown.

Bru.

Every thing is well.

Cass.

Good night my Lord.

Bru.

Good night good Brother.

Tit.

Messa. Good night Lord Brutus.

Bru.

Farewel every one. Give me the Gown. Where is thy Instrument?

Exeunt.

Luc.

Here in the Tent.

Bru.

What, thou speak'st drowsily; Poor Knave, I blame thee not, thou art o're-watch'd. Call Claudio, and some other of my Men, I'll have them sleep on Cushions in my Tent.

Luc.

Varrus, and Claudio?

Enter Varrus and Claudio.

Var.

Calls my Lord?

Bru.

I pray you Sirs, lye in my Tent and sleep, It may be I shall raise you by and by On business to my Brother Cassius.

Var.

So please you, we will stand, And watch your Pleasure.

Bru.

I will not have it so: Lye 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.

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.

I 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.

Brut.

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 was well done, and thou shalt sleep again: I will not hold thee long. If I do live, I will be good to thee.

Musick and a Song.

This is a sleepy Tune: O murd'rous Slumber! Layest thou thy leaden Mace upon my Boy, That plays thee Musick? Gentle Knave good night: I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee: If thou do'st 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.

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 any thing? Art thou some God, some Angel, or some Devil, That mak'st my Blood cold, and my Hair to stare? Speak to me, what thou art.

Ghost.

Thy evil Spirit Brutus.

Bru.

Why com'st thou?

Ghost.

To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.

Brut.

Well: then I shall see thee again?

Ghost.

I, at Philippi.

Bru.

Why I will see thee at Philippi then: Now I have taken Heart thou vanishest. Ill Spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. Boy, Lucius, Varrus, Claudio, Sirs: Awake: Claudio.

Luc.

The Strings, my Lord, are false.

Bru.

He thinks he still is at his Instrument. Lucius, awake.

Luc.

My Lord.

Bru.

Did'st thou dream Lucius, that thou so cryed'st 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: Sirra Claudio, Fellow, Thou: Awake.

Var.

My Lord.

Clau.

My Lord.

Bru.

Why did you so cry out Sirs, in your Sleep?

Both.

Die we, my Lord?

Bru.

I: 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:

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Bid him set on his Powers betimes before, And we will follow.

Both.

It shall be done my Lord.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.

Octa.

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.

Mes.

Prepare you Generals, The Enemy comes on in gallant shew: Their bloody Sign of Battel is hung out, And something to be done immediately.

Ant.

Octavius, lead your Battail softly on Upon the left hand of the even Field.

Octa.

Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.

Ant.

Why do you cross me in this Exigent?

Octa.

I do not cross you; but I will do so.

March.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army.

Bru.

They stand, and would have Parley:

Cassi.

Stand fast Titinius we must out and talk.

Octa.

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.

Octa.

Stir not untill the Signal.

Bru.

Words before Blows: is it so Countrymen?

Octa.

Not that we love Words better, as you do.

Bru.

Good Words are better-than bad Strokes Octavius.

An.

In your bad Strokes Brutus, you give good Words,

Witness the hole you made in Caesars heart, Crying long live, Hail Caesar.

Cass.

Antony, The posture of your blows are yet unknown; But for your words, they rob the Hibla Bees And leave them Hony-less.

Ant.

Not stingless too.

Bru.

O yes, and soundless too. For you have stoln their buzzing Antony, And very wisely threat before you sting.

Ant.

Villains: you did not so, when your vile daggers Hackt one another in the sides of Caesar. You shew'd your teeths like Apes, And fawn'd like Hounds, And bow'd like Bondmen, kissing Caesars feet; Whil'st damned Caska, like a Curr, behind Strook Caesar on the neck. O you Flatterers.

Cass.

Flaterers? Now Brutus thank your self, This tongue had not offended so to day, If Cassius might have rul'd.

Octa.

Come, come, the cause. If arguing make us sweat, 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 Caesars three and thirty wounds Be well aveng'd; or till another Caesar Have added slaughter to the Sword of Traitors.

Bru.

Caesar, thou canst not dye by Traitors hands, Unless thou bring'st them with thee.

Octa.

So I hope: I was not born to dye on Brutus Sword.

Bru.

O if thou wer't the Noblest of the Strain, Young-man, thou could'st not dye more honourable.

Cassi.

A peevish School-boy, worthless of such Honour, Joyn'd with a Masker, and a Reveller.

Ant.

Old Cassius still.

Octa.

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 stomacks.

Exit Octavius, Antony, and Army.

Cass.

Why now blow wind, swell Billow, And swim Bark: The Storm is up, and all is on the hazard.

Bru.

Ho Lucillius, hark, a word with you.

Lucillius and Messala stand forth.

Luc.

My Lord.

Cass.

Messal.

Messa.

What says my General?

Cass.

Messala, this is my Birth-day: 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 Battel 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 pearch'd, Gorging and feeding from our Souldiers 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're our heads, and downward look on us As we were sickly prey; their shadows seem A Canopy most fatall, under which Our Army lies, ready to give up the Ghost.

Messa.

Believe not so.

Cass.

I but believe it partly, For I am fresh of spirit, and resolv'd To meet all perils, very constantly.

Bru.

Even so Lucillius.

Cass.

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 affayrs of men rest still incertain, Let's reason with the worst that may befall. If we do lose this Battail, 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 my self with patience, To stay the providence of some high Powers, That govern us below.

Cass.

Then, if we lose this Battail, You are contented to be led in Triumph Thorow 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.

Cass.

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 days business, e're it come: But it sufficeth, that the day will end, And then the end is known. Come ho, away.

Exeunt:

Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.

Bru.

Ride, ride Messala, ride and give these Bills Unto the Legions, on the other side.

Lowd Alarum.

Let them set on at once: for I perceive But cold demeanor in Octavio's wing: And sudden push gives them the overthrow: Ride, ride Messala, let them all come down.

Exeunt.

Alarums. Enter Cassius and Titinius.

Cass.

O look Titinius, look the Villains flye: My self have to mine own turn'd Enemy; This Ensign here of mine was turning back, I slew the Coward, and did take it from him.

Titi.

O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early, Who having some advantage on Octavius, Took it too eagerly: his Souldiers fell to spoil, Whil'st we by Antony are all inclos'd.

Enter Pindarus.

Pind.

Fly further off my Lord: fly further off, Mark Antony is in your Tents my Lord: Fly therefore Noble Cassius, fly far off,

Cass.

This Hill is far enough. Look, look Titinius Are those my Tents where I perceive the fire?

Tit.

They are, my Lord.

Cass.

Titinius, if thou lovest me, Mo•••••• 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 assur'd Whether yond Troops, are Friend or Enemy

Exit.

Tit.

I will be here again, even with a thought.

Cass.

Go Pindarus, get higher on that hill, My sight was ever thick: regard Titinius, And tell me what thou not'st about the Field, This day I breathed first, Time is come round, And where I did begin, there shall I end, My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news?

Pin.

Above. O my Lord.

Cassi.

What news?

Pind.

Titinius is enclosed round about With horsemen, that make to him on the Spurr, Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him: Now Titinius. Now some light: O he lights too; Hee's tane. Shout. And hark, they shout for joy.

Cass.

Come down, behold no more: O Coward that I am, to live so long, To see my best Friend tane before my face.

Enter Pindarus.

Come hither sirrah: In Parthia did I take thee Prisoner, And then I swore thee, saving of thy life, That whatsoever I did bid thee do, Thou should'st attempt it. Come now, keep thine Oath, Now be a Free-man, and with this good Sword That ran through Caesars bowels, search this bosom. Stand not to answer: Here, take thou the Hilts, And when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now, Guide thou the Sword—Caesar, thou art reveng'd, Even with the Sword that kill'd thee.

Pin.

So, I am free, Yet would not so have been Durst I have done my will. O Cassius, Far from this Country Pindarus shall run, Where never Roman shall take note of him.

Enter Titinius and Messala.

Messa.

It is but change, Titinius: for Octavius Is overthrown by Noble Brutus power, As Cassius Legions are by Antony.

Titin.

These tydings will well comfort Cassius.

Messa.

Where did you leave him.

Titin.

All disconsolate,

With Pindarus his Bondman, on this Hill.

Messa.

Is not that he that lyes upon the ground?

Titin.

He lies not like the Living. O my heart!

Messa.

Is not that he?

Titin.

No, this was he Messala, But Cassius is no more. O setting Sun: As in thy red Rays thou doest sink to night; So in his red blood Cassius day is set. The Sun of Rome is set. Our day is gone, Clowds, Dews, and Dangers come; our deeds are done: Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.

Messa.

Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. O hateful Error, Melancholies Child: Why do'st thou shew to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O Error soon conceiv'd, Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, But kil'st the Mother that engendred thee.

Tit.

What Pindarus? Where art thou, Pindarus?

Messa.

Seek him Titinius, whil'st I go to meet The Noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his ears; I may say thrusting it: For piercing Steel, and Darts invenomed, Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus, As tydings of this sight.

Tit.

Hye you Messala, And I will seek for Pindarus the while: Why did'st thou send me forth brave Cassius? Did I not meet thy Friends, and did not they Put on my Brows this wreath of Victory, And bid me give it thee? Did'st thou not hear their showts? Alas, thou hast misconstrued every thing. But hold thee, take this Garland on thy Brow, Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace, And see how I regarded Caius Cassius: By your leave Gods: This is a Romans part, Come Cassius Sword, and find Titinius heart.

Dies.

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, young Cato, Stato, Volumnius, and Lucillius.

Bru.

Where, where Messala, doth his body lye?

Messa.

Loe yonder, and Titinius mourning it.

Bru.

Titinius face is upward.

Cato.

He is slain.

Bru.

O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet, Thy Spirit walks abroad, and turns our Swords In our own proper Entrails.

Low Alarums.

Cato.

Brave Titinius. Look where he have not Crown'd dead Cassius.

Bru.

Are yet two Romans living such as these? The last of all the Romans, far thee well: It is impossible, that ever Rome Should breed thy fellow. Friends I own mo tears To this dead man, then you shall see me pay. I shall find time, Cassius: I shall find time. Come therefore, and to Tharsus send his body, His Funerals shall not be in our Camp, Lest it discomfort us. Lucillius come, And come young Cato, let us to the Field, Labio and Flavio set our Battails on, 'Tis three a clock, and Romans yet e're night, We shall try Fortune in a second fight.

Exeun••▪

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, Cato, Lucillius, and Flavius.

Bru.

Yet Country-men: 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 Countrys Friend. I am the Son of Marcus Cato, ho.

Enter Souldiers, and fight.

Bru.

And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I, Brutus my Countrys Friend: Know me for Brutus.

Luc.

O young and Noble Cato, art thou down? Why now thou dyest, as bravely as Titinius, And may'st be honour'd being Cato's Son.

Sold.

Yield, or thou diest.

Luc.

Only I yield to die: There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight: Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.

Sold.

We must not: A Noble Prisoner.

Enter Antony.

2. Sold.

Room ho: tell Antony, Brutus is tane.

1. Sold.

I'le tell the news. Here comes the Generall, Brutus is tane, Brutus is tane my Lord.

Ant.

Where is he?

Luc.

Safe Antony, Brutus is safe enough: I dare assure thee, that no Enemy Shall ever take alive the Noble Brutus: The Gods defend him from so great a shame, When you do find him, or alive, or dead; He will be found like Brutus, like himself.

Ant.

This is not Brutus friend, but I assure you, A prize no less in worth; keep this man safe, Give him all kindness. I had rather have Such men my Friends, then Enemies. Go on, And see where Brutus be alive or dead,

And bring us word, unto Octavius Tent: How every thing is chanc'd.

Exeunt.

Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.

Bru.

Come poor remains of friends, rest on this Rock.

Clit.

Statillius shew'd the Torch-light, but my Lord, He came not back: he is or tane, or slain.

Bru.

Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word, It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.

Clit.

What I, my Lord? No, not for all the World.

Brut.

Peace then, no words.

Clit.

I'le rather kill my self.

Brut.

Hark thee, Dardanius.

Dard.

Shall I do such a deed?

Clit.

O Dardanius.

Dard.

O Clitus.

Clit.

What ill request did Brutus make to thee?

Dard.

To kill him, Clitus: look he meditates.

Clit.

Now is that Noble Vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru.

Come hither, good Volumnius, list a word.

Volum.

What says my Lord?

Bru.

Why this, Volumnius: The Ghost of Caesar 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.

Volum.

Not so, my Lord.

Brut.

Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou see'st the World, Volumnius, how it goes, Our Enemies have beat us to the Pit:

Low Alarums▪

It is more worthy, to leap in our selves, Then tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou know'st, that we two went to School together: Even for that our love of old, I prethee Hold thou my Sword Hilts, whilest 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 Volumnius. Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep: Farewell to thee, to 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 then Octavius, and Mark Antony, By this vile Conquest shall attain unto▪ So fare you well at once, for Brutus tongue▪

Hath almost ended his lives History: Night hangs upon mine eyes, my Bones would rest, That have but labour'd, to attain this hour.

Alarum. Cry within, Fly, fly, fly.

Cli.

Fly my Lord, fly.

Bru.

Hence: I will follow: I prethee Strato, stay thou by thy Lord, Thou art a Fellow of a good respect: Thy life hath had some smatch of Honour in it, Hold then my Sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou Strato?

Stra.

Give me your hand first. Fare you well my Lord.

Bru.

Farewell good Strato.—Caesar, now be still, Ikill'd not thee with half so good a will.

Dyes.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala, Lucillius, and the Army.

Octa.

What man is that?

Messa.

My Masters 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 Brutus That thou hast prov'd Lucillius saying true,

Octa.

All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?

Stra.

I, if Messala will prefer me to you.

Octa.

Do so, good Messala.

Messa.

How dyed my Master Strato?

Stra.

I held the Sword, and he did run on it.

Messa.

Octavius then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my Master.

Ant.

This was the Noblest Roman of them all: All the Conspirators save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Caesar: He, only in a generall honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the Elements So mixt in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the World; This was a man.

Octa.

According to his Vertue, let us use him With all Respect, and Rites of Buriall. Within my Tent his bones to night shall lye, Most like a Souldier ordered Honourably: So call the Field to rest, and let's away, To part the glories of this happy day.

Exeunt omnes

FINIS.