:

You all do know this mantle: I remember
The first time ever Cæsar put it on;
'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent;
That day he overcame the Nervii : ·
Look! in this place, ran Cassius' dagger through :
See, what a rent the envious Casca made:
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;
And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it;
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel:
Judge, O you gods, how dearly Cæsar lov'd him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all:
For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms,
Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statua 3,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.
O, what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel
The dint of pity: these are gracious drops.
Kind souls, what, weep you, when you but behold
Our Cæsar's vesture wounded? Look you here,
Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
1 Cit. O piteous spectacle!

Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up

To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
They, that have done this deed, are honourable;
What private griefs 5 they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it; they are wise and honourable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts;
I am no orator, as Brutus is:

But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That love my friend; and that they know full well
That gave me public leave to speak of him.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood: I only speak right on;
I tell you that, which you yourselves do know;
⚫ Statua for statue, is common among the old writers.
4 Impression.
Grievances.

Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths,

And bid them speak for me: But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Cæsar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Cit. We'll mutiny.

1 Cit. We'll burn the house of Brutus.

3 Cit. Away then, come, seek the conspirators. Ant. Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak. Cit. Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony. Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not

what:

Pluck down forms, windows, any thing. [Exeunt Citizens, with the Body. Ant. Now let it work: Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt!- How now, fellow?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
Ant. Where is he?

Serv. He and Lepidus are at Cæsar's house.
Ant. And thither will I straight to visit him :
He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,
And in this mood will give us any thing.

Serv. I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius
Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
Ant. Belike, they had some notice of the people,
How I had mov'd them. Bring me to Octavius.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Street.

Enter CINNA, the Poet.

Cin. I dreamt to-night that I did feast with Cæsar And things unluckily charge my fantasy:

I have no will to wander forth of doors,
Yet something leads me forth.

Enter Citizens.

1 Cit. What is your name? 2 Cit. Whither are you going? 6 Near fifty shillings.

2 Cit. That matter is answered directly. 4 Cit. For your dwelling, — briefly. Cin. Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol. 4 Cit. Your name, sir, truly.

Cin. Truly, my name is Cinna.

1 Cit. Tear him to pieces, he's a conspirator. Cin. I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet. 4 Cit. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses.

Cin. I am not Cinna the conspirator.

2 Cit. It is no matter, his name's Cinna; pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him going. 3 Cit. Tear him, tear him. Come, brands, ho! firebrands. To Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all. Some to Decius' house, and some to Casca's: some to Ligarius': away; go. [Exeunt.

Prick 7 him down, Antony. Lep. Upon condition Publius shall not live, Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.

A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds
On objects, arts, and imitations;
Which, out of use, and stal'd by other men,
Begin his fashion: Do not talk of him,
But as a property. And now, Octavius,
Listen great things.
Brutus and Cassius,
Are levying powers: we must straight make head.
Therefore, let our alliance be combin'd,

Our best friends made, and our best means stretch'd out;

And let us presently go sit in council,

How covert matters may be best disclos'd,

him.

But, Lepidus, go you to Cæsar's house;
Fetch the will hither, and we will determine
How to cut off some charge in legacies.
Lep. What, shall I find you here?
Oct.

The Capitol.

Oct. Let us do so; for we are at the stake, And bay'd 9 about with many enemies; And some, that smile, have in their hearts, I fear, Millions of mischief.

[Exeunt.

Ant. This is a slight unmeritable man, Meet to be sent on errands: Is it fit,

The three-fold world divided, he should stand One of the three to share it?

Oct.

So you thought him; And took his voice who should be prick'd to die, In our black sentence and proscription.

Ant. Octavius, I have seen more days than you; And though we lay these honours on this man, To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads, He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold, To groan and sweat under the business, Either led or driven, as we point the way; And having brought our treasure where we will, Then take we down this load, and turn him off, Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears, And graze in commons.

Oct.

You may do your will; But he's a tried and valiant soldier.

Ant. So is my horse, Octavius; and, for that, I do appoint him store of provender.

It is a creature that I teach to fight,

To wind, to stop, to run directly on;

His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit.
And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so;

He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth : 7 Set, mark.

8 Condemn.

Drum.

near Sardis.

Enter BRUTUS, LUCILIUS, Lucius, and Soldiers: TITINIUS and PINDARUS meeting them. Pru. Stand here.

Luc. Give the word, ho! and stand.

Bru. What now, Lucilius? is Cassius near? Luc. He is at hand; and Pindarus is come To do you salutation from his master.

[PINDARUS gives a Letter to Brutus. Bru. He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus,

When love begins to sicken and decay, It useth an enforced ceremony.

There are no tricks in plain and simple faith:
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,

Make gallant show and promise of their mettle:
But when they should endure the bloody spur,
They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades,
Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?

What villain touch'd 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 sell 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,

ter'd;

You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella,
For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letters, praying on his side,
Because I knew the man, were slighted off.

Bru. You wrong'd yourself, to write in such a case.
Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear his comment.
Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;
To sell and mart your offices for gold,
To undeservers.

Go to; you're not, Cassius.

Bru. I say, you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further. Bru. Away, slight man! Cas. Is't possible? Bru.

Hear me, for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted, when a madman stares?

Cas. O ye gods! ye gods! Must I endure all this? Bru. All this? ay, more: Fret, till your proud heart break;

Go show your slaves how cholerick 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.

Cas.

Is it come to this?

Bru.

For your life you durst not. Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love,

I may do that I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for.
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats:
For I am arm'd 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 drachmas, than 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 answer'd Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,

As huge as high Olympus.

Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is aweary of the world: Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother; Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observ'd, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote, To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold: If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike, as thou didst at Cæsar; for, I know,

O insupportable and touching loss! — Upon what sickness?

Bru.

Cas.

Bru

O Brutus !

What's the matter? Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Cassius; and henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. [Noise within. Poet. [Within.] Let me go in to see the generals: There is some grudge between them, 'tis not meet They be alone.

Luc. [Within.] You shall not come to them. Poet. [Within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poet.

Cas. How now? What's the matter?
Poet. For shame, you generals: What do you

mean?

Love, and be friends, as two such men should be; For I have seen more years, I am sure, than ye. Cas. Ha, ha; how vilely doth this cynick rhyme! 2 Split.

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

pray you.

Now sit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.
Cas. Portia, art thou gone?
Bru.
No more,
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.
Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenour.
Bru. With what addition?

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

Have put to death an 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?

3 Fellow.

-

'Tis better, that the enemy seek us:

This it is:

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

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

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.

Cas.

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 for

getful.

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, And touch thy instrument a strain or two. Luc. Ay, my lord, an it please you.

Bru.

Bru. Under your pardon. You must note be

side,

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.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.

Cas.
Then, with your will, go on;
We'll on ourselves, and meet him 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.] Fare-
well, good Messala: -

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

Cas.

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.

[Musick and a Song. This is a sleepy tune : — O murd'rous slumber! Lay'st thou thy leaden mace 5 upon my boy, That plays thee musick?

night;

Gentle knave, good

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,

O my dear brother!

Bru.

This was an ill beginning of the night: Never come such division 'tween our souls!

Why com'st thou ? Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt see me at Philippi. Bru. Well;

Then I shall see thee again?

Ghost.

5 Sceptre.

Ay, at Philippi.

[Ghost vanishes.