BRUTUS

A Soothsayer bids you beware the Ides of March Not I. I am not Gamesome: I do lack some partly Of that quick Spirit that is in Antony : Let me not hinder Cassius your desires; I'll leave you. It's very Like he hath the Falling sickness. What said he, when he came unto himself? And after that, he came thus sad away. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be? He was quick Mettle, when he went to School. 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. What Lucius, hoe? 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 ? Get me a Tapor in my Study, Lucius: When it is lighted, come and call me here. It must be by his death: and for my partly, I know no personal cause, to spurn at him, But for the general. He would be crowned: 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. the abuse of Greatness, is, when it disjoins Remorse from Power: And to speak truth of Caesar, I have not known, when his Affections swayed More then his Reason. But it's a common proof, That Lowlynesse 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 hatched, would as his kind grow mischievous; And kill him in the shell. Get you to Bed again, it is not day: Is not to morrow (Boy) the first of March? Look in the Calendar, and bring me word. The exhalations, whizzing in the air, Give so much light, that I may read by them. Brutus thou sleepest; awake, and see thy self: Shall Room, &c. speak, strike, redress. Brutus, thou sleepest: awake. Such instigations have been often dropped, Where I have took them up: Shall Room, &c. Thus must I piece it out: Shall Room stand under one men awe? What Room? My Ancestors did from the streets of Room The Tarquin driven, when he was called a King. Speak, strike, redress. Am I entreated To speak, and strike? Oh Room, I make thee promise, If the redress will follow, thou receivest Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus. It's 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 council; and the state of a man, Like to a little Kingdom, suffers then The nature of and Insurrection. Is he alone? Do you know them? Let they enter: They are the Faction. Oh Conspiracy, Shamest thou to show thy dangerous Brow by Night, When evils are most free? Oh 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. I have been up this hour, awake all Night: Know I these men, that come along with you? He is welcome hither. He is welcome too. They are all welcome. What watchful Cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your Eyes, and Night? No, not and 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 steel 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 Bound, Then secret Roman, that have spoke the word, And will not palter? And what other Oath, Then Honesty to Honesty engaged, That this shall be, or we will fallen for it. Swear Priests and Cowards, and men Cautelous Old feeble Carrions, and such suffering Souls That welcome wrongs: Unto bade causes, swear Such Creatures as men doubt; but do not stain The even virtue of our Enterprise, Nor the insuppressive Mettle of our Spirits, To think, that or our Cause, or our Performance Did need and Oath. When every drop of blood That every Roman bears, and Nobly bears Is guilty of a several Bastordie, If he do break the smallest Particle Of any promise that hath passed from him. 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. Peace, peace, you durst not so have tempted him. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time: What should the Wars do with these ligging Fools? Companion, hence. I should not urge thy duty passed thy might, I know young bloods look for a time of rest. Well: then I shall see thee again? 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. Caesar, thou canst not die by Traitors hands, Unless thou bringest them with thee. Come poor remains of friends, rest on this Rock. Fit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word, It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. Peace then, no words. Hark thee, Dardanius. Come hither, good Ʋ olumnius, list a word. Why this, Volumnius: The Ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me Two several times by Night: at Sardis, once; And this last Night, here in Philippi fields: I know my hour is come. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the World, Volumnius, how it goes, Our Enemies have Beatrice us to the Pit: It is more worthy, to leap in our selves, Then tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou knowest, that we two went to School together: Even for that our love of old, I prithee Hold thou my Sword Hilts, whilst I run on it. Cassius, Be not deceived: If I have veiled my look, I turn the trouble of my Countenance Merely upon my self. Vexed I am Of late, with passion of some difference, Conceptions only proper to my self, Which give some soil (perhaps) to my Behaviours: But let not therefore my good Friends be grieved (Among which number Cassius be you one) Nor construe any further my neglect, Then that poor Brutus with himself at war, Forgets the shows of Love to other men. Into what dangers, would you Lead me Cassius ? That you would have me seek into my self, For that which is not in me? What means this Shouting? I do fear, the People choose Caesar For their King. 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 towards the general good, Set Honour in one eye, and Death in that 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. Another general shout? I do believe, that these applauses are For some new Honours, that are heaped on Caesar. 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 entreat you) Be any further moved: 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 Room Under these hard Conditions, as this time Is Like to lay upon us. The Games are done, And Caesar is returning. I will do so: but look you Cassius, The angry spot does glow on Caesars brow, And all the rest look Like a chi den Train; Calphurni Cheek is pale, and Cicero Looks with such er and such fiery eyes As we have seen him in the Capitol Being crossed in Conference, by some Senators. I Caska, tell us what hath chanced to day That Caesar looks so sad. I should not then ask Caska what had chanced. What was the second noise for? Was the Crown offered him thrice? Tell us the manner of it, gentle Caska. Give me your hands all over, one by one. Oh name him not; let us not break with him, For he will never follow any thing That other men begin. 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: Oh that we then could come by Caesars 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 Carcase fit for Hounds: And let our Hearts, as subtle Master's do, Stir up their Servants to and act of Rage, And after seem to chide they. This shall make Our purpose Necessary, and not Envious. Which so appearing to the common eyes, We shall be called Purgers, not Murderers. And for Mark Antony, think not of him: For he can do no more then Caesars Arm, When Caesars head is off. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: If he love Caesar, all that he can do Is to himself; take thought, and die for Caesar, And that were much he should: for he is given To sports, to wildenesse, and much company. Peace, count the Clock. By the eight hour, is that the uttermost? 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. Good Gentlemen, look fresh and merrily, Let not our looks put on our purposes, But bear it as our Roman Actors do, With untired Spirits, and formal Constancy, And so good morrow to you every one. Boy: Lucius : Fast asleep? It is no matter, Enjoy the hony-heauy-Dew of Slumber: Thou hast no Figures, nor no Fantasies, Which busy care draws, in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleepest so found. 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. I am not well in health, and that is all. Why so I do: good Portia go to bed. Kneel not gentle Portia. You are my true and honourable Wife, As deer to me, as are the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart. Oh you Gods! Render me worthy of this Noble Wife. 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 Charractery of my sad brows: Leave me with hast. Lucius, who's that knocks. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spoke of. Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how? Oh what a time have you chosen out brave Caius To wear a Kerchief? Would you were not sick. Such and exploit have I in hand Ligarius, Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. A piece of work, That will make sick men whole. That must we also. What it is my Caius, I shall unfold to thee, as we are going, To whom it must be done. Follow me then. Caesar, it's strucken eight. That every Like is not the same, Oh Caesar, The heart of Brutus earns to think upon. Caesar, beware of Brutus, take heed of Cassius; come not near Caska, have and eye to Cynna, trust not Trebonius, mark well Metellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loves thee not: Thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Caesar: If thou be'st not Im mortal, look about you: Security gives way to Conspiracy. The mighty Gods defend thee. Thy Lover, Artemidorus. Caesar, beware of Brutus, take heed of Cassius; come not near Caska, have and eye to Cynna, trust not Trebonius, mark well Metellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loves thee not: Thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Caesar: If thou be'st not Im mortal, look about you: Security gives way to Conspiracy. The mighty Gods defend thee. Here will I stand, till Caesar pass along, And as a Suitor will I give him this: My heart laments, that Virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of Emulation. If thou read this, Oh Caesar, thou mayest live; If not, the Fates with Traitors do contrive. What said Popillius Lena ? Look how he makes to Caesar : mark him. Cassius be constant: Popillius Lena speaks not of our purposes, For look he smiles, and Caesar does not change. He is addressed: press near, and second him. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery Caesar : Desiring thee, that Publius Cymber may Have and immediate freedom of repeal. People and Senators, be not affrighted: Fly not, stand still: Ambitions debt is paid. Where's Publius ? Talk not of standing. Publius good cheer, There is no harm intended to your person, Nor to no Roman else: so tell them Publius. Do so, and let no man abide this deed, But we the Doers. Fates, we will know your pleasures: That we shall die we know, it's but the time And drawing days out, that men stand upon. Grant that, and then is Death a Benefit: So are we Caesars Friends, that have abridged His time of fearing death. Stoop Roman, 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 read Weapons over our heads, Let's all cry Peace, Freedom, and Liberty. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey's Basis lie along, No worthier then the dust? Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony's. 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 untouched. I know that we shall have him well to Friend. But here comes Antony: Welcome Mark Antony. Oh 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 do e: Our hearts you see not, they are pitiful: And pity to the general wrong of Room, As fire drives out fire, so pity; pity Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your partly, To you, our Swords have leaden points Mark Antony : Our Arms in strength of malice, and our Hearts Of Brother's temper, do receive you in, With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. Only be patient, till we have appeased The Multitude, beside themselves with fear, And then, we will deliver you the cause, Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, Have thus proceeded. 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. You shall Mark Antony. By your pardon: I will my self into the Pulpit first, And show 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. Mark Antony, here take you Caesars body: You shall not in your Funeral speech blame us, But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, And say you doo't by our permission: Else shall you not have any hand at all About his Funeral. And you shall speak In the same Pulpit whereto I am going, After my speech is ended. Prepare the body then, and follow us. Oh pardon me, thou bleeding piece of Earth: That I am meek and gentle with these Butchers. Thou art the Ruins 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 Prophesy, (Which Like dumb mouths do open their Ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my Tongue) A Curse shall light upon the limbs of men; Domestic Fury, and fierce Civil strife, Shall cumber all the parts of Italy: Blood and destruction shall be so in use, And dreadful Objects so familiar, That Mother's shall but smile, when they behold Their Infants quartered with the hands of War: All pity choked with custom of fell deeds, And Caesars Spirit ranging for Revenge, With Ate by his side, come hight from Hell, Shall in these Confines, with a Monarchs voice, Cry havoc, and let slip the Dogs of War, That this foul deed, shall smell above the earth With Carrion men, groaning for Burial. You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not? Then follow me, and give me Audience friends. Cassius go you into the other street, And partly the Numbers: Those that will hear me speak, let they stay here; Those that will follow Cassius, go with him, And public Reasons shall be rendered Of Caesars death. Be patient till the last. Roman, Countrymen, 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 deer 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 Came sar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Room more. Had you rather Caesar were li ving, and die all Slaves; then that Caesar were dead, to live all Freemen? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was Fortunate, I rejoice 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 offended. Who is here so vile, that will not love his Country? If any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a Reply. My Countrymen. Good Countrymen, let me depart alone, And (for my sake) stay here with Antony: Do grace to Caesars Corpses, and grace his Speech Tending to Caesars Glories, which Mark Antony (By our permission) is allowed to make. I do entreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. Stand ho. What now Lucillius, is Cassius near? 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. He is not doubted. A word Lucillius How he received you: let me be resolved. Thou hast described A hight Friend, cooling: Ever note Lucillius, When Love begins to sicken and decay It uses and inforced Ceremony. There are no tricks, in plain and simple Faith: But hollow men, Like Horses hight at hand, Make gallant show, and promise of their Mettle: But when they should endure the bloody Spur, They fallen their Crests, and Like deceitful Jades Sink in the Trial. Comes his Army on? Hark, he is arrived: March gently on to meet him. Stand ho, speak the word along. Stand. Stand. Stand. Judge me you Gods; wrong I mine Enemies? And if not so, how should I wrong a Brother. 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. You wronged your self to write in such a case. Let me tell you Cassius, you your self Are much condemned to have and itching Palm, To fell, and Mars your Offices for Gold To Undeservers. The name of Cassius Honours this corruption, And Chastisement does therefore hide his head. Remember March, the Ides of March reme ̄ ber: Did not great Julius bleed for Justice sake? What Villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for Justice? What? Shall one of Us, That struck the Foremost man of all this World, But for supporting Robbers: shall we now, Contaminate our fingers, with base Bribes? And fell 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, Then such a Roman. Go too: you are not Cassius. I say, you are not. Away slight man. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way, and room to your rash Choler? Shall I be frighted, when a Madman stares? All this? I more: Fret till your proud heart break. Go show your Slaves how Choleric you are, And make your Bondmen tremble. Must I budge? 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. You say, you are a better Soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine own partly, I shall be glad to learn of Noble men. If you did, I care not. No. For your life you durst not. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror Cassius in your threats: For I am Armed so strong in Honesty, That they pass by me, as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of Gold, which you denied me, For I can raise no money by vile means: By Heaven, I had rather Coin my Heart, And drop my blood for Drachmaes, then to wring From the hard hands of Peasants, their vile trash By any indirection. I did send To you for Gold to pay my Legions, Which you denied me: was that done Like Cassius ? Should I have answered Caius Cassius so? When Marcus Brutus grows so Covetous, To lock such Rascal Counters from his Friends, Be ready Gods with all your Thunderbolts, Dash him to pieces. You did. I do not, till you practice them on me. I do not Like your faults. A Flatterers would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus. Sheath your Dagger: Be angry when you will, it shall have scope: Do what you will, Dishonour, shall be Humour. Oh Cassius, you are yoked with a Lamb That carries Anger, as the Flint bears fire, Who much enforced, shows a hasty Spark, And strait is cold again. When I spoke that, I was ill tempered too. And my heart too. What's the matter? Yes Cassius, and from henceforth When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your Mother chides, and leave you so. Get you hence sirrah: Saucy Fellow, hence. Lucillius and Titinius bid the Commanders Prepare to lodge their Companies to night. Lucius, a bowl of Wine. Oh Cassius, I am sick of many griefs. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead. She is dead. Impatient of my absence And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have made themselves so strong: For with her death That tidings came. With this she fell distract, And (her Attendants absent) swallowed fire. Even so. Speak no more of her: Give me a bowl of wine, In this I bury all unkindness Cassius. 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 towards Philippi. With what Addition. Therein our Letters do not well agree: Mine speak of seventy Senators, that died By their proscriptions, Cicero being one. No Messala. Nothing Messala. Why ask you? Hear you ought of her, in yours? Now as you are a Roman tell me true. Why farewell Portia: We must die Messala: With meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently. Your reason? Good reasons must of force give place to better: The people betwixt Philippi, and this ground Do stand but in a forced affection: For they have grug'd us Contribution. The Enemy, marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number up, Come on refreshed, new added, and encouraged: From which advantage shall we cut him off. If at Philippi we do face him there, These people at our back. Under your pardon. You must note beside, That we have tried the utmost of our Friends: Oh Legions are brim full, our cause is ripe, The Enemy increases 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 Misery's. On such a full Sea are we now afloat, And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our Ventures. 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. Lucius my Gown: farewell good Messala, Good night Titinius : Noble, Noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose. Every thing is well. Good night good Brother. Farewell every one. Give me the Gown. Where is thy Instrument? What, thou speakest drowsily? Poor knave I blame thee not, thou art overwatched. Call Claudio, and some other of my men, I'll have them sleep on Cushions in my Tent. I pray you sirs, lie in my Tent and sleep, It may be I shall raise you by and by On business to my Brother Cassius. I will it not have it so: Lie down good sirs, It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. Look Lucius, here's the book I sought for so: I put it in the pocket of my Gown. Bear with me good Boy, I am much forgetful. Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, And touch thy Instrument a strain or two. It does my Boy: I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. 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. This is a sleepy Tune: Oh Murderous slumbler! Layest thou thy Leaden Mace upon my Boy, That plays thee Music? Gentle knave good night: I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee: If thou dost nod, thou breakest thy Instrument, I'll take it from thee, and (good Boy) good night. Let me see, let me see; is not the Leaf turned down Where I left reading? Here it is I think. How ill this Taper burns. Would! 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 makest my blood cold, and my hair to stare? Speak to me, what thou art. Why comest thou? He thinks he still is at his Instrument Lucius, awake. Didst thou dream Lucus, that thou so cryedst out? Yes that thou didst: Didst thou see any thing? Sleep again Lucius : Sirrah Claudio, Fellow, Thou: Awake. Why did you so cry out sirs, in your sleep? I: saw you any thing? Go, and commend me to my Brother Cassius : Bid him set on his Powers betimes before, And we will follow. They stand, and would have parley. Words before blows: is it so Countrymen? Good words are better then bade strokes Octavius. Oh yes, and soundless too: For you have stolen their buzzing Antony, And very wisely threat before you sting. Oh if thou were't the Noblest of thy Strain, Youngman, thou couldst not die more honourable. Ho Lucillius, hark, a word with you. Even so Lucillius. 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 fallen, so to prevent The time of life, arming my self with patience, To stay the providence of some high Powers, That govern us below. No Cassius, no: Think not thou Noble Roman, That ever Brutus will go bound to Room, He bears too great a mind. But this same day Must end that work, the Ides of March begun. And whither 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. Why then lead on. Oh that a man might know The end of this days business, ere it come: But it suffices, that the day will end, And then the end is known. Come ho, away. Ride, ride Messala, ride and give these Bills Unto the Legions, on the other side. Let them set on at once: for I perceive But cold demeanour in Octavio is wing: And sudden push gives them the overthrow: Ride, ride Messala, let them all come down. Where, where Messala, does his body lie? Titinius face is upward. Oh Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet, Thy Spirit walks abroad, and turns our Swords In our own proper Entrails. Are yet two Roman living such as these? The last of all the Roman, far thee well: It is impossible, that ever Room Should breed thy fellow. Friends I owe more 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, Least it discomfort us. Lucillius come, And come young Cato, let us to the Field, Labio and Flavio set our Battles on: It's three a clock, and Roman yet ere night, We shall try Fortune in a second fight. Yet Countrymen: Oh yet, hold up your heads. Farewell to you, and you, and you Volumnius. Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep: Farewell to thee, to Strato, Countrymen: My heart does 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 laboured, to attain this hour. Hence: I will follow: I prithee 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 ? Farewell good Strato. —Caesar, now be still, I killed not thee with half so good a will. No Cassius : For the eye sees not it self but by reflection, By some other things. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar, then you shall do to Brutus. The Question on of his death, is enrolled in the Capitol: his Glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences en forced, for which he suffered death. Here comes his Body, mourned by Mark Antony, who though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the be nefit of his dying, a place in the Counterfeit ̄ monwealth, as which of you shall not. With this I depart, that as I slew my best Lover for the good of Room, I have the same Dag her for my self, when it shall please my Country to needs my death. Come in Titinius: Welcome good Messala : Now fit we close about this Taper here, And call in question our necessities.