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Caf. My heart is thirsty for that nable pledge. Fill, Lucius, 'till tbe wine o'er-fwell the cup; I cannot drink too much of Brutus's love. Bru. Come in, Titinius ; --- Welcome, good Mejala.
Enter Titinius, and Meffala. Now fit we close about this ta per here, And cal in question our neceflities. .."
Caf. Oh Porcia! art thou gone?..
Bru. No more, I pray you. -,
Mef. My self have letters of the felf-fame tenour.
Mef. That by Profcription and bills of Outlawry,
Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree; Mine speak of fev'nty Senators, char dy'd .. By their Proscriptions, Cicero being one. . .'
Caf. Cicero one?
Mes. Cicero is dead; and by that order of profcription. Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
Bru. No, Meffalate ;
Mef. Then like a Roman bear the truth I cell ;
Bru. Why, farewel Porcia -- we must die, Meffala. With meditating that she must die oncen I have the patience to endure it now.
Mef. Ev'n so great men great losses should endure.
Cal. I have as much of this in art as you, But yet my nature could not bear it foi
Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently?
Caf. I do not think it good.
Cal. This it is : :
Bru. Good reasons must of force give place to better.
Caf. Hear me, good brother
Bru. Under your pardon. --You must note befide; 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 vide 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 ferves, Or lose our ventures.
Caf. Then, with your will, go on: we will alor Our felves, and meet them at Philippi. ;
Brų. The deep of night is crept upon our talk,',
Caf. No more; good night; -
Or cal. The and most night
Caf. O my dear brother!
Enter Lucius with the Gown.
[Exeunt. Give me the Gown. "Where is thy in trument?
Luc. Here, in the Tent.
Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily? Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'er-watch'da 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.
Bru. I pray you, Sirs, lie in my Tent, and feep;
Var. So please you, we will stand, and watch your
"Var. Soleasure have it for hechink me.For foi
Bru. I will not have it fo; lie down, good Sirs :
Luc. I was sure, your lordship did not give it me.
Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.. Canft thou hold up thy heavy eyes a while, And touch thy inftrument, a strain or two?.
Luc. Ay, my lord, an't please you.
Bru. It does, my boys
* 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. : Lúc. 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. ...I ',[Musick, and a Song. · This is a sleepy tune - O murd'rous, slumber !
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, '.
. [He fits down to read. - Enter the Ghost of Cæfar. 11.' How ill this taper burns! ha! who comes here? . I think, it is the weakness of mine eyes,
That shapes this monstrous apparition! -
Gboft. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
Luc. The strings, my lord, are false.
Bru. He thinks, he still is at his inftrument. Lucius ! awake. : - Luc. My lord!
Bru. Didst thou dream Lucius, that thou so cried'ft
out? Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. Bru. Yes, that thou didft ; didst thou fee any
thing? Luc. Nothing, my lord.' Bru. Sleep again, Lucius ; 'firrah, Claudius, fel
Dar. My lord!
Bru. Go, and commend me to my brother Caffius;
Both. It shall be done, my lord. [Exeunt.
(30) Thou ! arvake.) The Accent is so unmusical and harsh, 'tis impossible, the Poet could begin his Verse thus. Brutus, certainly, was intended to speak to Both his other Men ; who Both awake, and answer, at an instant.