Caf. Do you confels fo much? give me your hand. ᎠᎴ 200 Bru. And my heart too lo dos 2014 [Embracing. Caf. O Brutus on elem wy ydqöbolliq woy 10' and. 100. Bru. What's the matter pliva nisbrook of ganly bug Loy H Caf. Have not you not you love enough to bear with me, ara When that rash humour which my mother ga Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Caffius, and from henceforth When you are over-earnest with your Bratus,

gave

He'll think your mother chides, and leave you fo.dwinoqu

SCENE

Enter Lucilius and Titinius..

Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders wil) baА. Prepare to lodge their companies to-night by LeAMO Caf. And come your selves, and bring Meffala with you! Immediately to us. [Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.

Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine.

Enter Lucius and Titinius, and a Poet.

Poet. Let me go in to fee the Generals,

There is fome grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet.e

They be alone.

១.

Luc. You fhall not come to them.
Poet. Nothing but death fhall ftay me.
Caf. How now? what's the matter?,

Poet. For fhame you Generals; what do you mean?
Love, and be friends, as two fuch men fhould be,
For I have seen more years I'm fure than ye.

Caf. Ha, ha how vilely doth this Cynick rhime!
Bru. Get you hence, firrah; fawcy fellow, hence.
Caf. Bear with him, Brutus, 'tis his fashion.

Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time;
What should the wars do with thefe jingling fools?
Companion, hence.

Caf. Away, away, be gone.

Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, &c.

[Exit Poet.

Caf.

Cas. I did not think you could have been so angr
Bru Caffius, I am fick of many grief. ym bn Ad
Caf. Of your philosophy you make no used to
If you give place to accidental evils. 1916 ed add
No man bears forrow better--- Fortia's dead.

Bru.

Caf. Ha! Portia dwar yon doldw womad dlar jadi noɔdW

Bru. She is dead!

Caf. How fcap'd I killing, when I croft

croit, st you for yd O infupportable and touching lofs!-19ve sis poy nɔd W Upon what sickness? Lanta odvon 107 daida Wail Bru. Impatient of my absence;

And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony

Have made themselves so strong: for with her death
With this the fell dif

That tydings came.

diftract,

And (her-attendants absent) fwallow'd fire.bas miliona Caf. And dy'd forgot to go dioda ogbol of sunqui¶ Bru. Even fo. prind bus vlot to smo baA No50 auin Caye immortal Gods!

I

Enter Boy with Wine and Tapersion w Bru. Speak no more of her: give me a bowl of wine. [Drinks. In this I bury all unkindness, Caffius.I THKA. Caf. My heart is thirty for that noble pledge.mot zi sver Fill, Lucius, 'till the wine o'er-fwell the cup; ind of smo, con llami neY KI I cannot drink too much of Brutus love ob ud gatto

S

I, 130

Enter Titinius, and Meffala.

Bru. Come in, Titinius; welcome, good Mellala!
Now fit we close about this taper here,

And call in question our neceffities.
Caf. Oh Portia! art thou gone?

Brü.

Bru. No more, I pray you. boog si anids son ob I

Meffala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius, and Mark Antony,
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition tow'rd Philippi.

Mef. My felf have letters of the felf-fame tenure.
Bru. With what addition?

Mes. That by profcriptions, 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 fev❜nty Senators, that dy'd

By their profcriptions, Cicero being one.

Caf. Cicero one ?-----

Mef. Cicero is dead; and by that order of profcription.

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

Bru. No, Meffala.

Mef. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her ?
Bru. Nothing, Meffala.

Mef. That, methinks, is strange.

Bru. Why ask you hear you ought of her, in yours?
Mef. No, my lord.

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell;
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.
Bru. Why, farewel Portia---- we muft die, Meffala.
With meditating that the muft die once,

I have the patience to endure it now.

Mef. Ev'n so great men great loffes fhould endure.
Caf. I have as much of this in' art as you,

But yet my nature could not bear it fo.

Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think ha Of marching to Philippi prefently?

Caf

Caf. I do not think it good. Bru. Your reason? Caf. This it is: 1dT "Tis better that the enemy feek us,& diw au noqu nwob smoƆ So shall we waste his means, weary his foldiers de gribasā Doing himself offence; whilft we lying stillydyM 1M Are full of reft, defence and nimbleness.bbc trio Wed

Bru. Good reasons mult of force give place to better. M The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground,

Do ftand but in a forc'd affection;baloud or duobora
For they have grudg'd us contribution

The enemy, marching along by them, as won vilko dreqt sail
By them shall make a fuller number up,
Come on refresht, new added, and encourag'dto orsord 10.
From which advantage fhall we cut him off,basb ei osad pla
If at Philippi we do face him there;
These people at our back.

•*] Mod Caf. Hear me, good brotheroy ni gaidson to Bru. Under your pardon. You must note befidejo That we have try'd the utmost of our friends Our legions are brim-full, our caufe is ripe,uoy day encreaseth every day,

The

enemy

We at the height, are ready to decline

There is a tide in the affairs of men,

IT AM

M

H&

M

"

• Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortunet niste) 10T

← Omitted, all the voyage of their life bowers? dW ma

"Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. amb quinaribam diff 'On fuch a full fea are we now a-float, song adi oved E And we must take the current when it ferves, r)

'Or lose our ventures.

\M

Caf. Then with your will, go on; we will along

Our selves, and meet them at Philippi.

Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk,

And

And nature muft obey necessity,

Which we will niggard with a little rest.
There is no more to say.

Caf. No more; good-night;-----

Early to-morrow we will rife, and hence.

Enter Lucius.

Bru. Lucius, my gown; farewel, good Meffala,
Good-night, Titinius: noble, noble Caffius,
Good-night, and good repofe.

Caf. O my dear brother!

This was an ill begnning of the night:
Never come fuch divifion 'tween our fouls;
Let it not, Brutus.

Enter Lucius with the Gown.

Bru. Ev'ry thing is well.

Tit. Meffa. Good-night, lord Brutus!

Bru. Farewel, every one.

Give me the gown. Where is thy inftrument?
Luc. Here in the tent.

Bru. What, thou speak'ft drowfily?

Poor knave I blame thee not, thou art o'er-watch'd.

Call Claudius, and fome other of my men ;

I'll have them fleep on cufhions in my tent.
Luc. Varro and Claudius!

SCENE VI.

Enter Varro and Claudius.

Var. Calls my lord?

Bru. I pray you, Sirs, lye in my tent, and fleep;

It may be, I shall raise you by and by,

[Exeunt.

On