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 murd'rous slumber! Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee music?--Gentle knave, good night; [He sits down. 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. 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.-- 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 out? Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. Bru. Yes, that thou didst: Didst thou see anything? Luc. Nothing, my lord. Bru. Sleep again, Lucius.-Sirrah, Claudius ! Fellow thou! awake! 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 anything? Var. No, my lord, I saw nothing. Clau Nor I, my lord. Bru. Go, and commend me to my brother SCENE I.-The Plains of Philippi. Enter OCTAVIUS, 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; It proves not so: their battles are at hand; They mean to warn us at Philippi here, Answering before we do demand of them. Ant. 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 't is not so. Enter a Messenger. Mess. The enemy comes on in gallant show; Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, 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; Bru. Words before blows: Is it so, countrymen ? Ant. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words: Witness the hole you made in Cæsar's heart, Cas. Ant. Not stingless too. Bru. O, yes, and soundless too; For you have stolen their buzzing, Antony, And, very wisely, threat before you sting. 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, And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Cæsar's feet; Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind, Struck Cæsar on the neck. O you 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-thirty wounds Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. Bru. Cæsar, thou canst nct die by traitor's hands, Unless thou bring'st them with thee. Oct. was not born to die on Brutus' sword. So I hope; Bru. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou could 'st not die more honourable. Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour, Join'd with a masker and a reveller. Ant. Old Cassius still! Oct. Come, Antony; away. Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth: [Exeunt OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their Army. Cas. Why now, blow, wind; swell, billow; and swim, bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. Bru. Ho! Lucilius; hark, a word with you. My lord. Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala: Be thou my witness that, against my will, As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set Upon one battle all our liberties. You know that I held Epicurus strong, This morning are they fled away, and gone; Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost. I but believe it partly; |