Bru.

Impatient of my absence ; | 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.

And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony
Have made themselves so strong;-for with her
death

That tidings came ;-With this she fell distract,
And, her attendants absent, swallow'd fire.
Cas. And died so?

Bru. Even so.

Cas. O ye immortal gods!

Enter Lucius, 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'erswell the cup;
I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. (Drinks.

Re-enter Titinius, with Messala.
Bru. Come in, Titinius :-Welcome, good

sala.

side,

Cas.
Hear me, good brother.
Bru. Under your pardon.-You must note be-
That we have try'd 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.
Mes-On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.

Now sit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.
Cas. 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 towards Philippi.
Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenor.
Bru. With what addition?

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

Have put to death a hundred senators.

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;
Mine speak of seventy senators, that died
By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.
Cas. Cicero one?

Mes.

Ay, 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.
Mes.

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

vours?

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,

Messala:

With meditating that she must die once,2
I have the patience to endure it now.

Mes. Even so great men great losses should en-
dure.

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.

Bru.

Cas.

Your reason?

This it is:

'Tis better, that the enemy seek us:

So shall we waste his means, weary his soldiers,
Doing himself offence; whilst we, laying still,

Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.

Cas.

Then, with your will, go on,
We'll along ourselves, 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?

Cas.

No more.

Good night;

Early to-morrow will we rise and hence.
Bru. Lucius, my gown. [Exit Lucius.] Farewell,
good Messala;--

Good night, Titinius:-Noble, noble Cassius,
Good night, and good repose.

Cas.

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

Bru.

Every thing is well.
Cas. Good night, my lord.
Bru.

Good night, good brother.

Tit. Mes. Good night, lord Brutus.
Bru.

Farewell, every one. [Exeunt Cas. Tit. and Mes.

Re-enter Lucius, with the gown.

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

What, thou speak'st drowsily?
Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'er-watch'd.
Call Claudius, and some other of my men;
I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
Luc. Varro, and Claudius!

Enter Varro and Claudius.

Var. Calls my lord?

Bru. 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.

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.
Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so;
I put it in the pocket of my gown.

[Servants lie down, Luc. I was sure, your lordship did not give it me. Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.

Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes a while,

Luc. It is my duty, sir.
Bru. 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 is 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 murd'rous slumber!
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace' upon my boy,
That plays thee music ?-Gentle knave, good night;
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.
If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument;
I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night.
Let me see, let me see;-Is not the leaf turn'd
down,

Mess.
Prepare you, generals:
The enemy comes on in gallant show;
Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
And something to be done immediately.
Ant. Octavius, lead your battle softly on,
[He sits down. Upon the left hand of the even field.

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 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.
Bru. Well;

Then I shall see thee again?
Ghost.

Ay, at Philippi.
[Ghost vanishes.
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!-Varro! Claudius! sirs, awake!

Claudius!

Var. My lord.

Clau. My lord.

Bru. Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?
Var. Clau. Did we, my lord?
Bru.

Ay: 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;

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

Var. Clau.

It shall be done, my lord.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

Oct. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.
Ant. Why do you cross me in this exigent?
Oct. I do not cross you; but I will do so.

(March.

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

Bru. They stand, and would have parley.
Cas. Stand fast, Titinius: We must out and talk.
Oct. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?
Make forth, the generals would have some words.
Ant. No, Cæsar, we will answer on their charge.
Oct. Stir not until the signal.

Bru. Words before blows: Is it so, countrymen?
Oct. Not that we love words better, as you do.
Bru. Good words are better than bad strokes,
Octavius.

Ant. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good
words:

Witness the hole you made in Cæsar's heart,
Crying, long live! hail Cæsar!

Cas.

Antony,
The posture of your blows are yet unknown;
But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,
And leave them honeyless.

Ant.

Not stingless too.
Bru. O, yes, and soundless too;
And, very wisely, threat before you sting.
For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony;
Ant. Villains, you did not so, when your vile
daggers

Hack'd one another in the sides of Cæsar:
You show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like

hounds,

Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind,
And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet;
Struck Cæsar on the neck. O flatterers!

Cas. Flatterers!-Now, Brutus, thank yourself:
This tongue had not offended so to-day,
If Cassius might have rul'd.

Oct. 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 Cæsar's three and twenty wounds
Be well aveng'd; or till another Cæsar
Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
Bru. Cæsar, thou canst not die by traitors,

SCENE 1.-The plains of Philippi. Enter Oc-Unless thou bring'st them with thee.

tavius, Antony, and their army.

Oct. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered: You said, the enemy would not come down, But keep the hills and upper regions;

Enclosed round about with horsemen, that
Make to him on the spur;-Yet he spurs on.-
Now they are almost on him; now, Titinius!--
Now some 'light:-0, he lights too :-he's ta'en ;-
and, hark!
[Shout.
They shout for joy.
Cas.
Come down, behold no more.—
O, coward, that I am, to live so long,
To see my best friend ta'en 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 freeman; and, with this good sword,
That ran through Cæsar's 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.-Cæsar, thou art reveng'd,
Even with the sword that kill'd thee. [Dies.
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.

Re-enter Titinius with Messala.

The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
It is impossible, that ever Rome
Should breed thy fellow.-Friends, Fowe more tears
To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.-
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.-
Come, therefore, and to Thassos send his body;
His funeral shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us.-Lucilius, come;-
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.-
[Ex. Labeo, and Flavius, set our battles on:-
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.-Another part of the field. Alar-
Enter fighting, Soldiers of both armies;
then Brutus, Cato, Lucilius, and others.
Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your
heads!

Mes. It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius
Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,
As Cassius' legions are by Antony.

Tit. These tidings will well comfort Cassius.
Mes. Where did you leave him?
Tit.
All disconsolate,
With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.

Mes. Is not that he, that lies upon the ground?
Tit. He lies not like the living. O my heart!
Mes. Is not that he?
Tit.
No, this was he, Messala,
But Cassius is no more.-O setting sun!
As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night,
So in his red blood Cassius' day ir. set;
The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone;
Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are
done!

Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.

um.

[Charges the enemy.

Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I; Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus. [Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is overpowered, and falls.

Luc. O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius; And may'st be honour'd, being Cato's son. 1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest. Luc.

deed.

O hateful error, melancholy's child!
Why dost thou show 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 kill'st the mother that engender'd thee.

Tit. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus?
Mes. Seek him, Titinius: whilst I go to meet
The noble Brutus, thrusting this report
Into his ears: I may say, thrusting it;
For piercing steel, and darts envenomed,
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus,
As tidings of this sight.

Tit.

Hie you, Messala,

And I will seek for Pindarus the while. [Ex. Mes.
Why dist 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't thee? Didst thou not hear their
shouts ?

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 Roman's part:
Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart.

[Dies.
Alarum. Re-enter Messala, with Brutus, young
Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius.
Bru. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
Mes. Lo, yonder; and Titinius mourning it.
Bru. Titinius' face is upward.
He is slain.

Cato.

Bru. O Julius Cæsar, thou art mighty yet!
Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
In our own proper entrails.
[Low alarums.
Brave Titinius!

Cato.
Look, whe'r he have not crown'd dead Cassius!
Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these?-
(1) Whether.

Only I yield to die:
There is so much that thou wilt kill me straght;
[Offering money.

Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death."
1 Sold. We must not.-A noble prisoner!
2 Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.
1 Sold. I'll tell the news.-Here comes the gen-
eral:-

Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.

Cli. Statilius show'd the torch-light; but, my lord, He came not back; he is or ta'en, or slain.

Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: Slaying is the word;
It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.-
[Whispering.

Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
Bru. Peace then, no words.
Cli.
I'll rather kill myself.
Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius! [Whispers him.

Dar.

Cli. O, Dardanius!
Dar. Ó, Clitus!

I do such a deed?

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
Dar. To kill him, Clitus: Look, he meditates.
Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius: list a word.
Vol. What says my lord?
Bru.

Why, this, Volumnius;
The ghost of Cæsar 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.

Vol.

Not so, my lord.

Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.
Thou see'st the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

It is more worthy to leap in ourselves,
Than 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 pray thee,
Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst 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 too, 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 than Octavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's 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 thee.
[Exeunt Clitus, Dardaníus, and Volumnius.
I pr'ythee, 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.

249

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.
Luc. So Brutus should be found.-I thank thee,
Brutus,

That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true.
Oct. All that serv'd Brutus' I will entertain' them.
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer2 me to you.
Oct. Do so, Messala.

Mes.
How died my master, Strato?
Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.
Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the latest service to my master.

All the conspirators, save only he,
Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all :

Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;
He, only, in a general honest thought,
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle; and the elements
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, This was a man!

Oct. According to his virtue let us use him,
With all respect and rights of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
So, call the field to rest: and let's away,
Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.-
To part the glories of this happy day.

[Exeunt.

Of this tragedy many particular passages deserve regard, and the contention and reconcilement of Brutus and Cassius is universally celebrated; but I have never been strongly agitated in perusing it, and think it somewhat cold and unaffecting, compared with some other of Shakspeare's plays: his adherence to the real story, and to the Roman manners, seems to have impeded the natural vigour of

(1) Receive into my service. (2) Recommend. This genius.

JOHNSON.