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Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

Bru. No, Messala.

Mes. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
Bru. Nothing, Messala.


That, methinks, is strange. Bru. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours?


Mes. No, my lord.

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell: For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. Bru. Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Mes




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

Mes. Even so great men great losses should en



Cas. I have as much of this in art as you,

But yet my nature could not bear it so.

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


Cas. I do not think it good.


Your reason?


183 Nothing, Messala; cf. n.

190 once: some day

195 alive: which concerns the living

This is it:

'Tis better that the enemy seek us:

So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still, 200 Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.

Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.

193 art: theory

202 force: necessity

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.


Bru. Under your pardon.


That we have tried the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe:
The enemy increaseth every day;

We, at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.


Which we will niggard with a little rest.
There is no more to say?

Hear me, good brother.
You must note be-


204 Are friendly to us only under compulsion

208 new-added: newly augmented

213 That we have drawn on our friends to the utmost

219 Omitted: if it is neglected

220 bound in: confined to 223 ventures: investments


Then, with your will, go on; We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi. 224 Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And nature must obey necessity,



227 So to nature's need we will dole out a little rest



with your will: according to your prefer



No more.

Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.
Bru. Lucius!

Enter Lucius.
My gown.

[Exit Lucius.]
Farewell, good Messala:
Good-night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius,
Good-night, and good repose.

O my dear brother!
This was an ill beginning of the night:
Never come such division 'tween our souls!
Let it not, Brutus.

Cas. Good-night, my lord.




Everything is well.

Good-night, good brother.

Good-night, Lord Brutus.

Enter Lucius, with the gown.

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
Luc. Here in the tent.



Farewell, every one. Exeunt [all but Brutus].

Enter Varro and Claudius.


Var. Calls my lord?

Bru. I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep: 240 knave: boy o'er-watch'd: worn out by lack of sleep


What, thou speak'st drowsily? Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'erwatch'd.


Call Claudius and some other of my men;
I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
Luc. Varro! and Claudius!


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; lie down, good sirs; It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.

[Varro and Claudius lie down.] 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 awhile, And touch thy instrument a strain or two? Luc. Ay, my lord, an 't please you. Bru.

It does, my boy:


I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
Luc. It is my duty, sir.

Bru. I should not urge thy duty past thy



I know young bloods look for a time of rest.

Luc. I have slept, my lord, already.

Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again;

I will not hold thee long: if I do live,


I will be good to thee.
Music, and a Song.
This is a sleepy tune: O murderous slumber,
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,
That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good-


246 raise: rouse

254 much: very

256 Play a tune or two on thy lute

266 murderous: because rendering apparently lifeless 267 leaden: dull and heavy


I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.
If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument;
I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good-night.

248 watch: wakefully await

mace: bailiff's staff for arresting people

Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn'd



Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
Enter the Ghost of Cæsar.

How ill this taper burns. Ha! Who comes here?
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition.
It comes upon me. Art thou anything?

Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
That mak'st my blood cold and my hair to stare?
Speak to me what thou art.

Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest:
Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.
Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake!


Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

Why com'st thou?
Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Bru. Well; then I shall see thee again?

Ay, at Philippi.
Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then.
[Exit Ghost.]



Luc. Nothing, my lord.

274 How . . . burns: accepted sign of an apparition's presence 277 upon: towards


Luc. The strings, my lord, are false.

Bru. He thinks he, still is at his instrument. Lucius, awake!

Luc. My lord!


Bru. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst


Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry.
Bru. Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see any-



279 stare: stand on end

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