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That carries anger as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
562. Cas. Hath Cassius lived
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
Cas. O Brutus !
Bru. What's the matter?
568. Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful?
569. Bru. Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
571. Lucil. [within]. You shall not come to them.
Cas. How now? What's the matter?
574. Poet. For shame, you generals; What do you mean ?
578. Bru. I'll know his humour when he knows his time:
Companion, hence !
Cas. Away, away, be gone!
Enter LUCILIUS and TITINIUS.
580. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.
581. Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you,
Immediately to us.
Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine.
[Exeunt LUCILIUS and TITINIUS.
Cas. I did not think you could have been so angry.
Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use,
If you give place to accidental evils.
Bru. No man bears sorrow better :-Portia is dead.
Cas. Ha! Portia ?
Bru. She is dead.
589. Cas. How 'scaped I killing, when I crossed you so ?— O insupportable and touching loss !
Upon what sickness ?
590. Bru. Impatient of my absence;
And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony
And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire.
Cas. And died so?
Bru. Even so.
593. Cas. O ye immortal gods!
Enter LUCIUS, with wine and tapers.
Bru. Speak no more of her.-Give me a bowl of wine :
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.
Cas. 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.
Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA.
596. Bru. Come in, Titinius :-Welcome, good Messala.—
Now sit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.
598. Bru. No more, pray you.-
Bending their expedition toward Philippi.
599. Mess. Myself have letters of the self-same tenour. Bru. With what addition ?
601. Mess. 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
604. Mess. Cicero is dead,
And by that order of proscription.—
Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
Mess. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
Mess. That, methinks, is strange.
Bru. Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours?
Mess. No, my lord.
Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
Mess. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell :
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. 613. Bru. Why, farewell, Portia.-We must die, Messala: With meditating that she must die once,
I have the patience to endure it now.
Mess. Even so great men great losses should endure. 615. Cas. I have as much of this in art as you,
But yet my nature could not bear it so.
616. Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently?
Cas. I do not think it good.
Bru. Your reason?
619. Cas. This it is:
'Tis better that the enemy seek us :
So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.
620. Bru. 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:
By them shall make a fuller number up,
Come on refreshed, new-hearted, and encouraged;
These people at our back.
Cas. Hear me, good brother.
622. Bru. 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;
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
623. Cas. Then, with your will, go on;
We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi. 624. 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?
625. Cas. No more. Good night;
Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.
626. Bru. Lucius, my gown.
Farewell, good Messala ;—
Good night, Titinius :-Noble, noble Cassius,
Good night, and good repose.
Cas. O my dear brother,
This was an ill beginning of the night:
Never come such division 'tween our souls!
Let it not, Brutus.
Bru. Everything is well.
Cas. Good night, my lord.
Bru. Good night, good brother.
Tit. Mes. Good night, lord Brutus.
Bru. Farewell, every one.
[Exeunt CASSIUS, TITINIUS, and MESSALA.
Re-enter LUCIUS, with the Gown.
Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
Luc. Here, in the tent.
634. Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily?
Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'erwatched.
Call Claudius, and some other of my men;
I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
635. Luc. Varro and Claudius!
Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS.
Var. Calls my lord?
637. 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. 639. 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. It does, my boy:
I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
Luc. It is my duty, Sir.
645. Bru. I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
Luc. I have slept, my lord, already.
647. 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.
This is a sleepy tune :-O murderous slumber
[Music and a song.
That plays thee music?-Gentle knave, good night;
Enter the GHOST of CESAR.
How ill this taper burns!-Ha! who comes here?
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
648. Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
649. Bru. Why com'st thou ?
Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt see me at Philippi. 651. Bru. Well; then I shall see thee again? 652. Ghost. Ay, at Philippi.
$53. Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then.-Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest :
[He sits down.