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 Caesar; for, I know,
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better
Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.
Brutus
Sheathe your dagger:
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb
That carries anger as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.
Cassius
Hath Cassius lived
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper’d, vexeth him?
Brutus
When I spoke that, I was ill-temper’d too.
Cassius
Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
Brutus
And my heart too.
Cassius
O Brutus!
Brutus
What’s the matter?
Cassius
Have not you love enough to bear with me,
When that rash humour which my mother gave me
Makes me forgetful?
Brutus
Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He’ll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
Poet
[Within] Let me go in to see the generals;
There is some grudge between ’em, ’tis not meet
They be alone.
Lucilius
[Within] You shall not come to them.
Poet
[Within] Nothing but death shall stay me.
Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius
Cassius
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’m sure, than ye.
Cassius
Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rhyme!
Brutus
Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!
Cassius
Bear with him, Brutus; ’tis his fashion.
Brutus
I’ll know his humour, when he knows his time:
What should the wars do with these jigging fools?
Companion, hence!
Cassius
Away, away, be gone.
Exit Poet
Brutus
Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.
Cassius
And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you
Immediately to us.
Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius
Brutus
Lucius, a bowl of wine!
Exit Lucius
Cassius
I did not think you could have been so angry.
Brutus
O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Cassius
Of your philosophy you make no use,
If you give place to accidental evils.
Brutus
No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.
Cassius
Ha! Portia!
Brutus
She is dead.
Cassius
How ’scaped I killing when I cross’d you so?
O insupportable and touching loss!
Upon what sickness?
Brutus
Impatient of my absence,
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.
Cassius
And died so?
Brutus
Even so.
Cassius
O ye immortal gods!
Re-enter Lucius, with wine and taper
Brutus
Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine.
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.
Cassius
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.
Brutus
Come in, Titinius!
Exit Lucius
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 V
SCENE I. 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;
But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,
And leave them honeyless.
Antony
Not stingless too.
Brutus
O, yes, and soundless too;
For you have stol’n their buzzing, Antony,
And very wisely threat before you sting.
Antony
Villains, you did not so, when your vile daggers
Hack’d one another in the sides of Caesar:
You show’d your teeth like apes, and fawn’d like hounds,
And bow’d like bondmen, kissing Caesar’s feet;
Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind
Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers!
Cassius
Flatterers! Now, Brutus, thank yourself:
This tongue had not offended so to-day,
If Cassius might have ruled.
Octavius
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 Caesar’s three and thirty wounds
Be well avenged; or till another Caesar
Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
Brutus
Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors’ hands,
Unless thou bring’st them with thee.
Octavius
So I hope;
I was not born to die on Brutus’ sword.
Brutus
O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.
Cassius
A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour,
Join’d with a masker and a reveller!
Antony
Old Cassius still!
Octavius
Come, Antony, away!
Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth:
If you dare fight to-day, come to the field;
If not, when you have stomachs.
Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their army
Cassius
Why, now, blow wind, swell billow and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Brutus
Ho, Lucilius! hark, a word with you.
Lucilius
[Standing forth] My lord?
Brutus and Lucilius converse apart
Cassius
Messala!
Messala
[Standing forth] What says my general?
Cassius
Messala,
This is my birth-day; as this very day
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
And his opinion: now I change my mind,
And partly credit things that do presage.
Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch’d,
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers’ hands;
Who to Philippi here consorted us:
This morning are they fled away and gone;
And in their steads do ravens, crows and kites,
Fly o’er our heads and downward look on us,
As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem
A canopy most fatal, under which
Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.
Messala
Believe not so.
Cassius
I but believe it partly;
For I am fresh of spirit and resolved
To meet all perils very constantly.
Brutus
Even so, Lucilius.
Cassius
Now, most noble Brutus,
The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may,
Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!
But since the affairs of men rest still incertain,
Let’s reason with the worst that may befall.
If we do lose this battle, then is this
The very last time we shall speak together:
What are you then determined to do?
Brutus
Even by the rule of that philosophy
By which I did blame Cato for the death
Which he did give himself, I know not how,
But I do find it cowardly and vile,
For fear of what might fall, so to prevent
The time of life: arming myself with patience
To stay the providence of some high powers
That govern us below.
Cassius
Then, if we lose this battle,
You are contented to be led in triumph
Thorough the streets of Rome?
Brutus
No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble Roman,
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
He bears too great a mind. But this same day
Must end that work the ides of March begun;
And whether we shall meet again I know not.
Therefore our everlasting farewell take:
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius!
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why then, this parting was well made.
Cassius
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Brutus!
If we do meet again, we’ll smile indeed;
If not, ’tis true this parting was well made.
Brutus
Why, then, lead on. O, that a man might know
The end of this day’s business ere it come!
But it sufficeth that the day will end,
And then the end is known. Come, ho! away!
Exeunt
SCENE II. THE SAME. THE FIELD OF BATTLE.
Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala
Brutus
Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills
Unto the legions on the other side.
Loud alarum
Let them set on at once; for I perceive
But cold demeanor in Octavius’ wing,
And sudden push gives them the overthrow.
Ride, ride, Messala: let them all come down.
Exeunt
SCENE III. ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.
Alarums. Enter Cassius and Titinius
Cassius
O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly!
Myself have to mine own turn’d enemy:
This ensign here of mine was turning back;
I slew the coward, and did take it from him.
Titinius
O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early;
Who, having some advantage on Octavius,
Took it too eagerly: his soldiers fell to spoil,
Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed.
Enter Pindarus
Pindarus
Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;
Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord
Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.
Cassius
This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius;
Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?
Titinius
They are, my lord.
Cassius
Titinius, if thou lovest me,
Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him,
Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops,
And here again; that I may rest assured
Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.
Titinius
I will be here again, even with a thought.
Exit
Cassius
Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill;
My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,
And tell me what thou notest about the field.
Pindarus ascends the hill
This day I breathed first: time is come round,
And where I did begin, there shall I end;
My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news?
Pindarus
[Above] O my lord!
Cassius
What news?
Pindarus
[Above] Titinius is 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. O, he lights too.
He’s ta’en.
Shout
And, hark! they shout for joy.
Cassius
Come down, behold no more.
O, coward that I am, to live so long,
To see my best friend ta’en before my face!
Pindarus descends
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 shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath;
Now be a freeman: and with this good sword,
That ran through Caesar’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.
Pindarus stabs him
Caesar, thou art revenged,
Even with the sword that kill’d thee.
Dies
Pindarus
So, I am free; yet would not so have been,
Durst I have done my will.
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