Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare [top ten books of all time txt] 📗

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 self-same 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 Everything is well. Cassius Good night, my lord. Brutus Good night, good brother. Titinius and Messala Good night, Lord Brutus. Brutus Farewell, everyone. 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’erwatch’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