Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA

Welcome, good Messala.

Now sit we close about this taper here,

And call in question our necessities.

CASSIUS Portia, art thou gone?

BRUTUS 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.

MESSALA Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor.

BRUTUS With what addition?

MESSALA That by proscription and bills of outlawry,

Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,

Have put to death an hundred senators.

BRUTUS Therein our letters do not well agree;

Mine speak of seventy senators that died

By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.

CASSIUS Cicero one!

MESSALA Cicero is dead,

And by that order of proscription.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

BRUTUS No, Messala.

MESSALA Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?

BRUTUS Nothing, Messala.

MESSALA That, methinks, is strange.

BRUTUS Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours?

MESSALA No, my lord.

BRUTUS Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.

MESSALA Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell:

For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.

BRUTUS Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala:

With meditating that she must die once,

I have the patience to endure it now.

MESSALA Even so great men great losses should endure.

CASSIUS I have as much of this in art as you,

But yet my nature could not bear it so.

BRUTUS Well, to our work alive. What do you think

Of marching to Philippi presently?

CASSIUS I do not think it good.

BRUTUS Your reason?

CASSIUS This it is:

‘Tis better that the enemy seek us:

So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,

Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,

Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness.

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

The people ‘twixt Philippi and this ground

Do stand but in a forced affection;

For they have grudged us contribution:

The enemy, marching along by them,

By them shall make a fuller number up,

Come on refresh’d, 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.

CASSIUS Hear me, good brother.

BRUTUS Under your pardon. You must note beside,

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.

CASSIUS Then, with your will, go on;

We’ll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

BRUTUS 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?

CASSIUS No more. Good night:

Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.

BRUTUS Lucius!

Enter LUCIUS

My gown.

Exit LUCIUS

Farewell, good Messala:

Good night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius,

Good night, and good repose.

CASSIUS O my dear brother!

This was an ill beginning of the night:

Never come such division ‘tween our souls!

Let it not, Brutus.

BRUTUS Every thing is well.

CASSIUS Good night, my lord.

BRUTUS Good night, good brother.

TITINIUS, MESSALA Good night, Lord Brutus.

BRUTUS Farewell, every one.

Exeunt all but BRUTUS

Re-enter LUCIUS, with the gown

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

LUCIUS Here in the tent.

BRUTUS 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.

LUCIUS Varro and Claudius!

Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS

VARRO Calls my lord?

BRUTUS 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.

VARRO So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.

BRUTUS 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.

VARRO and CLAUDIUS lie down

LUCIUS I was sure your lordship did not give it me.

BRUTUS 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?

LUCIUS Ay, my lord, an’t please you.

BRUTUS It does, my boy:

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

LUCIUS It is my duty, sir.

BRUTUS I should not urge thy duty past thy might;

I know young bloods look for a time of rest.

LUCIUS I have slept, my lord, already.

BRUTUS 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 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

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 makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?

Speak to me what thou art.

GHOST Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

BRUTUS Why comest thou?

GHOST To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.

BRUTUS Well; then I shall see thee again?

GHOST Ay, at Philippi.

BRUTUS Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.

Exit Ghost

Now I have taken heart thou vanishest:

Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.

Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! Claudius!

LUCIUS The strings, my lord, are false.

BRUTUS He thinks he still is at his instrument.

Lucius, awake!

LUCIUS My lord?

BRUTUS Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?

LUCIUS My lord, I do not know that I did cry.

BRUTUS Yes, that thou didst: didst thou see any thing?

LUCIUS Nothing, my lord.

BRUTUS Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudius!

To VARRO

Fellow thou, awake!

VARRO My lord?

CLAUDIUS My lord?

BRUTUS Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?

VARRO, CLAUDIUS Did we, my lord?

BRUTUS Ay: saw you any thing?

VARRO No, my lord, I saw nothing.

CLAUDIUS Nor I, my lord.

BRUTUS Go and commend me to my brother Cassius;

Bid him set on his powers betimes before,

And we will follow.

VARRO, CLAUDIUS It shall be done, my lord.

Exeunt

Act 5

Scene 1

The plains of Philippi.

Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their army

OCTAVIUS 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.

ANTONY 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

Messenger Prepare you, generals:

The enemy comes on in gallant show;

Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,

And something to be done immediately.

ANTONY Octavius, lead your battle softly on,

Upon the left hand of the even field.

OCTAVIUS Upon the right hand I; keep thou the left.

ANTONY Why do you cross me in this exigent?

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

March

Drum. Enter BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and their Army; LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, and others

BRUTUS They stand, and would have parley.

CASSIUS Stand fast, Titinius: we must out and talk.

OCTAVIUS Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?

ANTONY No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge.

Make forth; the generals would have some words.

OCTAVIUS Stir not until the signal.

BRUTUS Words before blows: is it so, countrymen?

OCTAVIUS Not that we love words better, as you do.

BRUTUS Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.

ANTONY In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words:

Witness the hole you made in Caesar’s heart,

Crying ‘Long live! hail, Caesar!’

CASSIUS Antony,

The posture of your blows are yet unknown;

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