Julius Caesar

Actus Quartus

Enter Antony, Octauius, and Lepidus.

  Ant. These many then shall die, their names are prickt  Octa. Your Brother too must dye: consent you Lepidus?  Lep. I do consentOcta. Pricke him downe Antony   Lep. Vpon condition Publius shall not liue,Who is your Sisters sonne, Marke Antony   Ant. He shall not liue; looke, with a spot I dam him.But Lepidus, go you to Caesars house:Fetch the Will hither, and we shall determineHow to cut off some charge in Legacies   Lep. What? shall I finde you heere?  Octa. Or heere, or at the Capitoll.Exit Lepidus  Ant. This is a slight vnmeritable man,Meet to be sent on Errands: is it fitThe three-fold World diuided, he should standOne of the three to share it?  Octa. So you thought him,And tooke his voyce who should be prickt to dyeIn our blacke Sentence and Proscription   Ant. Octauius, I haue seene more dayes then you,And though we lay these Honours on this man,To ease our selues of diuers sland'rous loads,He shall but beare them, as the Asse beares Gold,To groane and swet vnder the Businesse,Either led or driuen, as we point the way:And hauing brought our Treasure, where we will,Then take we downe his Load, and turne him off(Like to the empty Asse) to shake his eares,And graze in Commons   Octa. You may do your will:But hee's a tried, and valiant Souldier   Ant. So is my Horse Octauius, and for thatI do appoint him store of Prouender.It is a Creature that I teach to fight,To winde, to stop, to run directly on:His corporall Motion, gouern'd by my Spirit,And in some taste, is Lepidus but so:He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth:A barren spirited Fellow; one that feedsOn Obiects, Arts, and Imitations.Which out of vse, and stal'de by other menBegin his fashion. Do not talke of him,But as a property: and now Octauius,Listen great things. Brutus and CassiusAre leuying Powers; We must straight make head:Therefore let our Alliance be combin'd,Our best Friends made, our meanes stretcht,And let vs presently go sit in Councell,How couert matters may be best disclos'd,And open Perils surest answered   Octa. Let vs do so: for we are at the stake,And bayed about with many Enemies,And some that smile haue in their hearts I feareMillions of Mischeefes.Exeunt.Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucillius, and the Army. Titinius and Pindarus meete them.Bru. Stand hoLucil. Giue the word ho, and Stand   Bru. What now Lucillius, is Cassius neere?  Lucil. He is at hand, and Pindarus is comeTo do you salutation from his Master   Bru. He greets me well. Your Master PindarusIn his owne change, or by ill Officers,Hath giuen me some worthy cause to wishThings done, vndone: But if he be at handI shall be satisfied   Pin. I do not doubtBut that my Noble Master will appeareSuch as he is, full of regard, and Honour   Bru. He is not doubted. A word LucilliusHow he receiu'd you: let me be resolu'd   Lucil. With courtesie, and with respect enough,But not with such familiar instances,Nor with such free and friendly ConferenceAs he hath vs'd of old   Bru. Thou hast describ'dA hot Friend, cooling: Euer note Lucillius,When Loue begins to sicken and decayIt vseth an enforced Ceremony.There are no trickes, in plaine and simple Faith:But hollow men, like Horses hot at hand,Make gallant shew, and promise of their Mettle:Low March within.But when they should endure the bloody Spurre,They fall their Crests, and like deceitfull IadesSinke in the Triall. Comes his Army on?  Lucil. They meane this night in Sardis to be quarter'd:The greater part, the Horse in generallAre come with Cassius.Enter Cassius and his Powers.  Bru. Hearke, he is arriu'd:March gently on to meete himCassi. Stand ho   Bru. Stand ho, speake the word along.Stand.Stand.StandCassi. Most Noble Brother, you haue done me wrong   Bru. Iudge me you Gods; wrong I mine Enemies?And if not so, how should I wrong a Brother   Cassi. Brutus, this sober forme of yours, hides wrongs,And when you do them-  Brut. Cassius, be content,Speake your greefes softly, I do know you well.Before the eyes of both our Armies heere(Which should perceiue nothing but Loue from vs)Let vs not wrangle. Bid them moue away:Then in my Tent Cassius enlarge your Greefes,And I will giue you Audience   Cassi. Pindarus,Bid our Commanders leade their Charges offA little from this ground   Bru. Lucillius, do you the like, and let no manCome to our Tent, till we haue done our Conference.Let Lucius and Titinius guard our doore.Exeunt.Manet Brutus and Cassius.  Cassi. That you haue wrong'd me, doth appear in this:You haue condemn'd, and noted Lucius PellaFor taking Bribes heere of the Sardians;Wherein my Letters, praying on his side,Because I knew the man was slighted offBru. You wrong'd your selfe to write in such a case   Cassi. In such a time as this, it is not meetThat euery nice offence should beare his Comment   Bru. Let me tell you Cassius, you your selfeAre much condemn'd to haue an itching Palme,To sell, and Mart your Offices for GoldTo Vndeseruers   Cassi. I, an itching Palme?You know that you are Brutus that speakes this,Or by the Gods, this speech were else your last   Bru. The name of Cassius Honors this corruption,And Chasticement doth therefore hide his head   Cassi. Chasticement?  Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March reme[m]ber:Did not great Iulius bleede for Iustice sake?What Villaine touch'd his body, that did stab,And not for Iustice? What? Shall one of Vs,That strucke the Formost 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 HonorsFor so much trash, as may be grasped thus?I had rather be a Dogge, and bay the Moone,Then such a Roman   Cassi. Brutus, baite not me,Ile not indure it: you forget your selfeTo hedge me in. I am a Souldier, I,Older in practice, Abler then your selfeTo make ConditionsBru. Go too: you are not CassiusCassi. I amBru. I say, you are not   Cassi. Vrge me no more, I shall forget my selfe:Haue minde vpon your health: Tempt me no fartherBru. Away slight man   Cassi. Is't possible?  Bru. Heare me, for I will speake.Must I giue way, and roome to your rash Choller?Shall I be frighted, when a Madman stares?  Cassi. O ye Gods, ye Gods, Must I endure all this?  Bru. All this? I more: Fret till your proud hart break.Go shew your Slaues how Chollericke you are,And make your Bondmen tremble. Must I bouge?Must I obserue you? Must I stand and crouchVnder your Testie Humour? By the Gods,You shall digest the Venom of your SpleeneThough it do Split you. For, from this day forth,Ile vse you for my Mirth, yea for my LaughterWhen you are Waspish   Cassi. Is it come to this?  Bru. You say, you are a better Souldier:Let it appeare so; make your vaunting true,And it shall please me well. For mine owne part,I shall be glad to learne of Noble men   Cass. You wrong me euery way:You wrong me Brutus:I saide, an Elder Souldier, not a Better.Did I say Better?  Bru. If you did, I care notCass. When Caesar liu'd, he durst not thus haue mou'd meBrut. Peace, peace, you durst not so haue tempted himCassi. I durst notBru. No   Cassi. What? durst not tempt him?  Bru. For your life you durst not   Cassi. Do not presume too much vpon my Loue,I may do that I shall be sorry for   Bru. You haue 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 passe by me, as the idle winde,Which I respect not. I did send to youFor certaine summes of Gold, which you deny'd me,For I can raise no money by vile meanes:By Heauen, I had rather Coine my Heart,And drop my blood for Drachmaes, then to wringFrom the hard hands of Peazants, their vile trashBy any indirection. I did sendTo you for Gold to pay my Legions,Which you deny'd me: was that done like Cassius?Should I haue answer'd Caius Cassius so?When Marcus Brutus growes so Couetous,To locke such Rascall Counters from his Friends,Be ready Gods with all your Thunder-bolts,Dash him to peecesCassi. I deny'd you notBru. You did   Cassi. I did not. He was but a FooleThat brought my answer back. Brutus hath riu'd my hart:A Friend should beare his Friends infirmities;But Brutus makes mine greater then they areBru. I do not, till you practice them on meCassi. You loue me notBru. I do not like your faultsCassi. A friendly eye could neuer see such faults   Bru. A Flatterers would not, though they do appeareAs huge as high Olympus   Cassi. Come Antony, and yong Octauius come,Reuenge your selues alone on Cassius,For Cassius is a-weary of the World:Hated by one he loues, brau'd by his Brother,Check'd like a bondman, all his faults obseru'd,Set in a Note-booke, learn'd, and con'd by roateTo cast into my Teeth. O I could weepeMy Spirit from mine eyes. There is my Dagger,And heere my naked Breast: Within, a HeartDeerer then Pluto's Mine, Richer then Gold:If that thou bee'st a Roman, take it foorth.I that deny'd thee Gold, will giue my Heart:Strike as thou did'st at Caesar: For I know,When thou did'st hate him worst, y loued'st him betterThen euer thou loued'st Cassius   Bru. Sheath your Dagger:Be angry when you will, it shall haue scope:Do what you will, Dishonor, shall be Humour.O Cassius, you are yoaked with a LambeThat carries Anger, as the Flint beares fire,Who much inforced, shewes a hastie Sparke,And straite is cold agen   Cassi. Hath Cassius liu'dTo be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,When greefe and blood ill temper'd, vexeth him?  Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill temper'd tooCassi. Do you confesse so much? Giue me your handBru. And my heart too   Cassi. O Brutus!  Bru. What's the matter?  Cassi. Haue not you loue enough to beare with me,When that rash humour which my Mother gaue meMakes me forgetfull   Bru. Yes Cassius, and from henceforthWhen you are ouer-earnest with your Brutus,Hee'l thinke your Mother chides, and leaue you so.Enter a Poet.  Poet. Let me go in to see the Generals,There is some grudge betweene 'em, 'tis not meeteThey be aloneLucil. You shall not come to themPoet. Nothing but death shall stay me   Cas. How now? What's the matter?  Poet. For shame you Generals; what do you meane?Loue, and be Friends, as two such men should bee,For I haue seene more yeeres I'me sure then yee   Cas. Ha, ha, how vildely doth this Cynicke rime?  Bru. Get you hence sirra: Sawcy Fellow, henceCas. Beare with him Brutus, 'tis his fashion   Brut. Ile know his humor, when he knowes his time:What should the Warres do with these Iigging Fooles?Companion, henceCas. Away, away be gone.Exit Poet  Bru. Lucillius and Titinius bid the CommandersPrepare to lodge their Companies to night   Cas. And come your selues, & bring Messala with youImmediately to vsBru. Lucius, a bowle of WineCas. I did not thinke you could haue bin so angryBru. O Cassius, I am sicke of many greefes   Cas. Of your Philosophy you make no vse,If you giue place to accidentall euilsBru. No man beares sorrow better. Portia is dead   Cas. Ha? Portia?  Bru. She is dead   Cas. How scap'd I killing, when I crost you so?O insupportable, and touching losse!Vpon what sicknesse?  Bru. Impatient of my absence,And greefe, that yong Octauius with Mark AntonyHaue made themselues so strong: For with her deathThat tydings came. With this she fell distract,And (her Attendants absent) swallow'd fire   Cas. And dy'd so?  Bru. Euen so   Cas. O ye immortall Gods!Enter Boy with Wine, and Tapers.  Bru. Speak no more of her: Giue me a bowl of wine,In this I bury all vnkindnesse Cassius.Drinkes  Cas. My heart is thirsty for that Noble pledge.Fill Lucius, till the Wine ore-swell the Cup:I cannot drinke too much of Brutus loue.Enter Titinius and Messala.  Brutus. Come in Titinius:Welcome good Messala:Now sit we close about this Taper heere,And call in question our necessities   Cass. Portia, art thou gone?  Bru. No more I pray you.Messala, I haue heere receiued Letters,That yong Octauius, and Marke AntonyCome downe vpon vs with a mighty power,Bending their Expedition toward PhilippiMess. My selfe haue Letters of the selfe-same TenureBru. With what Addition   Mess. That by proscription, and billes of Outlarie,Octauius, Antony, and Lepidus,Haue put to death, an hundred Senators   Bru. Therein our Letters do not well agree:Mine speake of seuenty Senators, that dy'deBy their proscriptions, Cicero being one   Cassi. Cicero one?  Messa. Cicero is dead, and by that order of proscriptionHad you your Letters from your wife, my Lord?  Bru. No Messala   Messa. Nor nothing in your Letters writ of her?  Bru. Nothing MessalaMessa. That me thinkes is strange   Bru. Why aske you?Heare you ought of her, in yours?  Messa. No my LordBru. Now as you are a Roman tell me true   Messa. Then like a Roman, beare the truth I tell,For certaine she is dead, and by strange manner   Bru. Why farewell Portia: We must die Messala:With meditating that she must dye once,I haue the patience to endure it nowMessa. Euen so great men, great losses shold indure   Cassi. I haue as much of this in Art as you,But yet my Nature could not beare it so   Bru. Well, to our worke aliue. What do you thinkeOf marching to Philippi presentlyCassi. I do not thinke it good   Bru. Your reason?  Cassi. This it is:'Tis better that the Enemie seeke vs,So shall he waste his meanes, weary his Souldiers,Doing himselfe offence, whil'st we lying still,Are full of rest, defence, and nimblenesse   Bru. Good reasons must of force giue place to better:The people 'twixt Philippi, and this groundDo stand but in a forc'd affection:For they haue grug'd vs Contribution.The Enemy, marching along by them,By them shall make a fuller number vp,Come on refresht, new added, and encourag'd:From which aduantage shall we cut him off.If at Philippi we do face him there,These people at our backeCassi. Heare me good Brother   Bru. Vnder your pardon. You must note beside,That we haue tride the vtmost of our Friends:Our Legions are brim full, our cause is ripe,The Enemy encreaseth euery day,We at the height, are readie to decline.There is a Tide in the affayres of men,Which taken at the Flood, leades on to Fortune:Omitted, all the voyage of their life,Is bound in Shallowes, and in Miseries.On such a full Sea are we now a-float,And we must take the current when it serues,Or loose our Ventures   Cassi. Then with your will go on: wee'l alongOur selues, and meet them at Philippi   Bru. The deepe of night is crept vpon our talke,And Nature must obey Necessitie,Which we will niggard with a little rest:There is no more to say   Cassi. No more, good night,Early to morrow will we rise, and hence.Enter Lucius.  Bru. Lucius my Gowne: farewell good Messala,Good night Titinius: Noble, Noble Cassius,Good night, and good repose   Cassi. O my deere Brother:This was an ill beginning of the night:Neuer come such diuision 'tweene our soules:Let it not Brutus.Enter Lucius with the Gowne.Bru. Euery thing is wellCassi. Good night my LordBru. Good night good BrotherTit. Messa. Good night Lord BrutusBru. Farwell euery one.Exeunt.Giue me the Gowne. Where is thy Instrument?  Luc. Heere in the Tent   Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily?Poore knaue I blame thee not, thou art ore-watch'd.Call Claudio, and some other of my men,Ile haue them sleepe on Cushions in my Tent   Luc. Varrus, and Claudio.Enter Varrus and Claudio.  Var. Cals my Lord?  Bru. I pray you sirs, lye in my Tent and sleepe,It may be I shall raise you by and byOn businesse to my Brother Cassius   Var. So please you, we will stand,And watch your pleasure   Bru. I will it not haue it so: Lye downe good sirs,It may be I shall otherwise bethinke me.Looke Lucius, heere's the booke I sought for so:I put it in the pocket of my GowneLuc. I was sure your Lordship did not giue it me   Bru. Beare with me good Boy, I am much forgetfull.Canst thou hold vp thy heauie eyes a-while,And touch thy Instrument a straine or twoLuc. I my Lord, an't please you   Bru. It does my Boy:I trouble thee too much, but thou art willingLuc. It is my duty Sir   Brut. I should not vrge thy duty past thy might,I know yong bloods looke for a time of restLuc. I haue slept my Lord already   Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt sleepe againe:I will not hold thee long. If I do liue,I will be good to thee.Musicke, and a Song.This is a sleepy Tune: O Murd'rous slumber!Layest thou thy Leaden Mace vpon my Boy,That playes thee Musicke? Gentle knaue good night:I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee:If thou do'st nod, thou break'st thy Instrument,Ile take it from thee, and (good Boy) good night.Let me see, let me see; is not the Leafe turn'd downeWhere I left reading? Heere it is I thinke.Enter the Ghost of Caesar.How ill this Taper burnes. Ha! Who comes heere?I thinke it is the weakenesse of mine eyesThat shapes this monstrous Apparition.It comes vpon me: Art thou any thing?Art thou some God, some Angell, or some Diuell,That mak'st my blood cold, and my haire to stare?Speake to me, what thou art   Ghost. Thy euill Spirit Brutus?  Bru. Why com'st thou?  Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi   Brut. Well: then I shall see thee againe?  Ghost. I, at Philippi   Brut. Why I will see thee at Philippi then:Now I haue taken heart, thou vanishest.Ill Spirit, I would hold more talke with thee.Boy, Lucius, Varrus, Claudio, Sirs: Awake:ClaudioLuc. The strings my Lord, are false   Bru. He thinkes he still is at his Instrument.Lucius, awakeLuc. My Lord   Bru. Did'st thou dreame Lucius, that thou so cryedstout?  Luc. My Lord, I do not know that I did cry   Bru. Yes that thou did'st: Did'st thou see any thing?  Luc. Nothing my Lord   Bru. Sleepe againe Lucius: Sirra Claudio, Fellow,Thou: AwakeVar. My LordClau. My Lord   Bru. Why did you so cry out sirs, in your sleepe?  Both. Did we my Lord?  Bru. I: saw you any thing?  Var. No my Lord, I saw nothingClau. Nor I my Lord   Bru. Go, and commend me to my Brother Cassius:Bid him set on his Powres betimes before,And we will followBoth. It shall be done my Lord.Exeunt.

Actus Quintus

Enter Octauius, Antony, and their Army.

  Octa. Now Antony, our hopes are answered,You said the Enemy would not come downe,But keepe the Hilles and vpper Regions:It proues not so: their battailes are at hand,They meane to warne vs at Philippi heere:Answering before we do demand of them   Ant. Tut I am in their bosomes, and I knowWherefore they do it: They could be contentTo visit other places, and come downeWith fearefull brauery: thinking by this faceTo fasten in our thoughts that they haue Courage;But 'tis not so.Enter a Messenger.  Mes. Prepare you Generals,The Enemy comes on in gallant shew:Their bloody signe of Battell is hung out,And something to be done immediately   Ant. Octauius, leade your Battaile softly onVpon the left hand of the euen FieldOcta. Vpon the right hand I, keepe thou the leftAnt. Why do you crosse me in this exigentOcta. I do not crosse you: but I will do so.March.Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, & their Army.Bru. They stand, and would haue parleyCassi. Stand fast Titinius, we must out and talke   Octa. Mark Antony, shall we giue signe of Battaile?  Ant. No Caesar, we will answer on their Charge.Make forth, the Generals would haue some wordsOct. Stirre not vntill the Signall   Bru. Words before blowes: is it so Countrymen?  Octa. Not that we loue words better, as you doBru. Good words are better then bad strokes Octauius   An. In your bad strokes Brutus, you giue good wordsWitnesse the hole you made in Caesars heart,Crying long liue, Haile Caesar   Cassi. Antony,The posture of your blowes are yet vnknowne;But for your words, they rob the Hibla Bees,And leaue them Hony-lesseAnt. Not stinglesse too   Bru. O yes, and soundlesse too:For you haue stolne their buzzing Antony,And very wisely threat before you sting   Ant. Villains: you did not so, when your vile daggersHackt one another in the sides of Caesar:You shew'd your teethes like Apes,And fawn'd like Hounds,And bow'd like Bondmen, kissing Caesars feete;Whil'st damned Caska, like a Curre, behindeStrooke Caesar on the necke. O you Flatterers   Cassi. Flatterers? Now Brutus thanke your selfe,This tongue had not offended so to day.If Cassius might haue rul'd   Octa. Come, come, the cause. If arguing make vs swet,The proofe of it will turne to redder drops:Looke, I draw a Sword against Conspirators,When thinke you that the Sword goes vp againe?Neuer till Caesars three and thirtie woundsBe well aueng'd; or till another CaesarHaue added slaughter to the Sword of Traitors   Brut. Caesar, thou canst not dye by Traitors hands.Vnlesse thou bring'st them with thee   Octa. So I hope:I was not borne to dye on Brutus Sword   Bru. O if thou wer't the Noblest of thy Straine,Yong-man, thou could'st not dye more honourable   Cassi. A peeuish School-boy, worthles of such HonorIoyn'd with a Masker, and a ReuellerAnt. Old Cassius still   Octa. Come Antony: away:Defiance Traitors, hurle we in your teeth.If you dare fight to day, come to the Field;If not, when you haue stomackes.Exit Octauius, Antony, and Army  Cassi. Why now blow winde, swell Billow,And swimme Barke:The Storme is vp, and all is on the hazardBru. Ho Lucillius, hearke, a word with you.Lucillius and Messala stand forth.Luc. My LordCassi. Messala   Messa. What sayes my Generall?  Cassi. Messala, this is my Birth-day: at this very dayWas Cassius borne. Giue me thy hand Messala:Be thou my witnesse, that against my will(As Pompey was) am I compell'd to setVpon one Battell all our Liberties.You know, that I held Epicurus strong,And his Opinion: Now I change my minde,And partly credit things that do presage.Comming from Sardis, on our former EnsigneTwo mighty Eagles fell, and there they pearch'd,Gorging and feeding from our Soldiers hands,Who to Philippi heere consorted vs:This Morning are they fled away, and gone,And in their steeds, do Rauens, Crowes, and KitesFly ore our heads, and downward looke on vsAs we were sickely prey; their shadowes seemeA Canopy most fatall, vnder whichOur Army lies, ready to giue vp the GhostMessa. Beleeue not so   Cassi. I but beleeue it partly,For I am fresh of spirit, and resolu'dTo meete all perils, very constantlyBru. Euen so Lucillius   Cassi. Now most Noble Brutus,The Gods to day stand friendly, that we mayLouers in peace, leade on our dayes to age.But since the affayres of men rests still incertaine,Let's reason with the worst that may befall.If we do lose this Battaile, then is thisThe very last time we shall speake together:What are you then determined to do?  Bru. Euen by the rule of that Philosophy,By which I did blame Cato, for the deathWhich he did giue himselfe, I know not how:But I do finde it Cowardly, and vile,For feare of what might fall, so to preuentThe time of life, arming my selfe with patience,To stay the prouidence of some high Powers,That gouerne vs below   Cassi. Then, if we loose this Battaile,You are contented to be led in TriumphThorow the streets of Rome   Bru. No Cassius, no:Thinke not thou Noble Romane,That euer Brutus will go bound to Rome,He beares too great a minde. But this same dayMust end that worke, the Ides of March begun.And whether we shall meete againe, I know not:Therefore our euerlasting farewell take:For euer, and for euer, farewell Cassius,If we do meete againe, why we shall smile;If not, why then this parting was well made   Cassi. For euer, and for euer, farewell Brutus:If we do meete againe, wee'l smile indeede;If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made   Bru. Why then leade on. O that a man might knowThe end of this dayes businesse, ere it come:But it sufficeth, that the day will end,And then the end is knowne. Come ho, away.Exeunt.Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.  Bru. Ride, ride Messala, ride and giue these BillesVnto the Legions, on the other side.Lowd Alarum.Let them set on at once: for I perceiueBut cold demeanor in Octauio's wing:And sodaine push giues them the ouerthrow:Ride, ride Messala, let them all come downe.Exeunt.Alarums. Enter Cassius and Titinius.  Cassi. O looke Titinius, looke, the Villaines flye:My selfe haue to mine owne turn'd Enemy:This Ensigne heere of mine was turning backe,I slew the Coward, and did take it from him   Titin. O Cassius, Brutus gaue the word too early,Who hauing some aduantage on Octauius,Tooke it too eagerly: his Soldiers fell to spoyle,Whilst we by Antony are all inclos'd.Enter Pindarus.  Pind. Fly further off my Lord: flye further off,Mark Antony is in your Tents my Lord:Flye therefore Noble Cassius, flye farre off   Cassi. This Hill is farre enough. Looke, look TitiniusAre those my Tents where I perceiue the fire?  Tit. They are, my Lord   Cassi. Titinius, if thou louest me,Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurres in him,Till he haue brought thee vp to yonder TroopesAnd heere againe, that I may rest assur'dWhether yond Troopes, are Friend or Enemy   Tit. I will be heere againe, euen with a thought.Enter.  Cassi. Go Pindarus, get higher on that hill,My sight was euer thicke: regard Titinius,And tell me what thou not'st about the Field.This day I breathed first, Time is come round,And where I did begin, there shall I end,My life is run his compasse. Sirra, what newes?  Pind. Aboue. O my Lord   Cassi. What newes?  Pind. Titinius is enclosed round aboutWith Horsemen, that make to him on the Spurre,Yet he spurres on. Now they are almost on him:Now Titinius. Now some light: O he lights too.Hee's tane.Showt.And hearke, they shout for ioy   Cassi. Come downe, behold no more:O Coward that I am, to liue so long,To see my best Friend tane before my faceEnter Pindarus.Come hither sirrah: In Parthia did I take thee Prisoner,And then I swore thee, sauing of thy life,That whatsoeuer I did bid thee do,Thou should'st attempt it. Come now, keepe thine oath,Now be a Free-man, and with this good SwordThat ran through Caesars bowels, search this bosome.Stand not to answer: Heere, take thou the Hilts,And when my face is couer'd, as 'tis now,Guide thou the Sword- Caesar, thou art reueng'd,Euen with the Sword that kill'd thee   Pin. So, I am free,Yet would not so haue beeneDurst I haue done my will. O Cassius,Farre from this Country Pindarus shall run,Where neuer Roman shall take note of him.Enter Titinius and Messala.  Messa. It is but change, Titinius: for OctauiusIs ouerthrowne by Noble Brutus power,As Cassius Legions are by AntonyTitin. These tydings will well comfort CassiusMessa. Where did you leaue him   Titin. All disconsolate,With Pindarus his Bondman, on this Hill   Messa. Is not that he that lyes vpon the ground?  Titin. He lies not like the Liuing. O my heart!  Messa. Is not that hee?  Titin. No, this was he Messala,But Cassius is no more. O setting Sunne:As in thy red Rayes thou doest sinke to night;So in his red blood Cassius day is set.The Sunne of Rome is set. Our day is gone,Clowds, Dewes, and Dangers come; our deeds are done:Mistrust of my successe hath done this deed   Messa. Mistrust of good successe hath done this deed.O hatefull Error, Melancholies Childe:Why do'st thou shew to the apt thoughts of menThe things that are not? O Error soone conceyu'd,Thou neuer com'st vnto a happy byrth,But kil'st the Mother that engendred thee   Tit. What Pindarus? Where art thou Pindarus?  Messa. Seeke him Titinius, whilst I go to meetThe Noble Brutus, thrusting this reportInto his eares; I may say thrusting it:For piercing Steele, and Darts inuenomed,Shall be as welcome to the eares of Brutus,As tydings of this sight   Tit. Hye you Messala,And I will seeke for Pindarus the while:Why did'st thou send me forth braue Cassius?Did I not meet thy Friends, and did not theyPut on my Browes this wreath of Victorie,And bid me giue it thee? Did'st thou not heare their showts?Alas, thou hast misconstrued euery thing.But hold thee, take this Garland on thy Brow,Thy Brutus bid me giue it thee, and IWill do his bidding. Brutus, come apace,And see how I regarded Caius Cassius:By your leaue Gods: This is a Romans part,Come Cassius Sword, and finde Titinius hart.DiesAlarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, yong Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucillius.  Bru. Where, where Messala, doth his body lye?  Messa. Loe yonder, and Titinius mourning itBru. Titinius face is vpwardCato. He is slaine   Bru. O Iulius Caesar, thou art mighty yet,Thy Spirit walkes abroad, and turnes our SwordsIn our owne proper Entrailes. Low Alarums   Cato. Braue Titinius,Looke where he haue not crown'd dead Cassius   Bru. Are yet two Romans liuing such as these?The last of all the Romans, far thee well:It is impossible, that euer RomeShould breed thy fellow. Friends I owe mo tearesTo this dead man, then you shall see me pay.I shall finde time, Cassius: I shall finde time.Come therefore, and to Tharsus send his body,His Funerals shall not be in our Campe,Least it discomfort vs. Lucillius come,And come yong Cato, let vs to the Field,Labio and Flauio set our Battailes on:'Tis three a clocke, and Romans yet ere night,We shall try Fortune in a second fight.Exeunt.Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, Cato, Lucillius, and Flauius.Bru. Yet Country-men: O yet, hold vp your heads   Cato. What Bastard doth not? Who will go with me?I will proclaime my name about the Field.I am the Sonne of Marcus Cato, hoe.A Foe to Tyrants, and my Countries Friend.I am the Sonne of Marcus Cato, hoe.Enter Souldiers, and fight.And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I,Brutus my Countries Friend: Know me for Brutus   Luc. O yong and Noble Cato, art thou downe?Why now thou dyest, as brauely as Titinius,And may'st be honour'd, being Cato's SonneSold. Yeeld, or thou dyest   Luc. Onely I yeeld to dye:There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight:Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death   Sold. We must not: a Noble Prisoner.Enter Antony.2. Sold. Roome hoe: tell Antony, Brutus is tane   1.Sold. Ile tell thee newes. Heere comes the Generall,Brutus is tane, Brutus is tane my Lord   Ant. Where is hee?  Luc. Safe Antony, Brutus is safe enough:I dare assure thee, that no EnemyShall euer take aliue the Noble Brutus:The Gods defend him from so great a shame,When you do finde him, or aliue, or dead,He will be found like Brutus, like himselfe   Ant. This is not Brutus friend, but I assure you,A prize no lesse in worth; keepe this man safe,Giue him all kindnesse. I had rather haueSuch men my Friends, then Enemies. Go on,And see where Brutus be aliue or dead,And bring vs word, vnto Octauius Tent:How euery thing is chanc'd.Exeunt.Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.  Brut. Come poore remaines of friends, rest on this Rocke   Clit. Statillius shew'd the Torch-light, but my LordHe came not backe: he is or tane, or slaine   Brut. Sit thee downe, Clitus: slaying is the word,It is a deed in fashion. Hearke thee, ClitusClit. What I, my Lord? No, not for all the WorldBrut. Peace then, no wordsClit. Ile rather kill my selfeBrut. Hearke thee, Dardanius   Dard. Shall I doe such a deed?  Clit. O DardaniusDard. O Clitus   Clit. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?  Dard. To kill him, Clitus: looke he meditates   Clit. Now is that Noble Vessell full of griefe,That it runnes ouer euen at his eyesBrut. Come hither, good Volumnius, list a word   Volum. What sayes my Lord?  Brut. Why this, Volumnius:The Ghost of Caesar hath appear'd to meTwo seuerall times by Night: at Sardis, once;And this last Night, here in Philippi fields:I know my houre is comeVolum. Not so, my Lord   Brut. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.Thou seest the World, Volumnius, how it goes,Our Enemies haue beat vs to the Pit:Low Alarums.It is more worthy, to leape in our selues,Then tarry till they push vs. Good Volumnius,Thou know'st, that we two went to Schoole together:Euen for that our loue of old, I pretheeHold thou my Sword Hilts, whilest I runne on itVol. That's not an Office for a friend, my Lord.Alarum still.Cly. Fly, flye my Lord, there is no tarrying heere   Bru. Farewell to you, and you, and Volumnius.Strato, thou hast bin all this while asleepe:Farewell to thee, to Strato, Countrymen:My heart doth ioy, that yet in all my life,I found no man, but he was true to me.I shall haue glory by this loosing dayMore then Octauius, and Marke Antony,By this vile Conquest shall attaine vnto.So fare you well at once, for Brutus tongueHath almost ended his liues History:Night hangs vpon mine eyes, my Bones would rest,That haue but labour'd, to attaine this houre.Alarum. Cry within, Flye, flye, flye.Cly. Fly my Lord, flye   Bru. Hence: I will follow:I prythee Strato, stay thou by thy Lord,Thou art a Fellow of a good respect:Thy life hath had some smatch of Honor in it,Hold then my Sword, and turne away thy face,While I do run vpon it. Wilt thou Strato?  Stra. Giue me your hand first. Fare you wel my Lord   Bru. Farewell good Strato. – Caesar, now be still,I kill'd not thee with halfe so good a will.Dyes.Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octauius, Messala, Lucillius, and the Army.  Octa. What man is that?  Messa. My Masters man. Strato, where is thy Master?  Stra. Free from the Bondage you are in Messala,The Conquerors can but make a fire of him:For Brutus onely ouercame himselfe,And no man else hath Honor by his death   Lucil. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee BrutusThat thou hast prou'd Lucillius saying true,  Octa. All that seru'd Brutus, I will entertaine them.Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?  Stra. I, if Messala will preferre me to youOcta. Do so, good Messala   Messa. How dyed my Master Strato?  Stra. I held the Sword, and he did run on it   Messa. Octauius, then take him to follow thee,That did the latest seruice to my Master   Ant. This was the Noblest Roman of them all:All the Conspirators saue onely hee,Did that they did, in enuy of great Caesar:He, onely in a generall honest thought,And common good to all, made one of them.His life was gentle, and the ElementsSo mixt in him, that Nature might stand vp,And say to all the world; This was a man   Octa. According to his Vertue, let vs vse himWithall Respect, and Rites of Buriall.Within my Tent his bones to night shall ly,Most like a Souldier ordered Honourably:So call the Field to rest, and let's away,To part the glories of this happy day.Exeunt. omnes.FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF IVLIVS CaeSAR