Julius Caesar Page #8

---

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.

And died so?

Even so.

O ye immortal gods!

Speak no more of her.

Give me a bowl of wine.

In this

I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.

Come in, Titinius!

Welcome, good Messala.

Now sit we close about this taper here,

and call in question our necessities.

Portia, art thou gone?

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.

Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor.

What do you think of marching to Philippi presently?

- I do not think it good.

- Your reason?

'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.

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.

- Hear me, good brother.

- Under your pardon.

You must note beside, that we've 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.

Then, with your will, go on.

We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

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?

- No more. Good night.

Early tomorrow will we rise, and hence.

Lucius! My gown.

Farewell, good Messala.

Good night, Titinius.

Noble,

noble Cassius,

good night, and good repose.

O my dear brother!

This was an ill beginning of the night.

Never come such division 'tween our souls!

Let it not, Brutus.

Every thing is well.

Good night, my lord.

Good night, good brother.

Good night, Lord Brutus.

Farewell, every one.

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.

Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

Why comest thou?

To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.

Well. then I shall see thee again?

Ay, at Philippi.

Now, Antony,

our hopes are answered:

you said the enemy would not come down,

It proves not so. Their battles are at hand. But keep the hills and upper regions.

They mean to warn us at Philippi here,

Answering before we do demand of them.

I am in their bosoms, and I know wherefore they do it.

They could come down With fearful bravery,

thinking by this face to fastenin our thoughts that they have courage.

But 'tis not so.

Prepare you, generals!

The enemy comes on in gallant show.

Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,

and something to be done immediately.

Octavius,

lead your battle softly on,

upon the left hand of the even field.

Upon the right hand I.

Keep thou the left.

Why do you cross me in this exigent?

I do not cross you, but I will do so.

They stand, and would have parley.

Stand fast, Titinius.

We must out and talk.

- Make forth; the generals would have some words.

- Stir not until the signal.

Words before blows!

Is it so, countrymen?

Not that we love words better, as you do.

Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.

In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words.

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.

You flatterers!

Flatterers!

Now, Brutus, thank yourself.

This tongue had not offended so to-day,

if Cassius might have ruled.

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 3 and

or till Octavius Caesar have added slaughter

to the sword of traitors.

Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands.

So I hope.

I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.

O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, young man,

thou couldst not die more honourable.

A peevish schoolboy,

worthless of such honour,

join'd with a masker and a reveller!

Old Cassius still!

Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth!

If you dare fight to-day, come to the field.

If not, when you have stomachs.

Come, Antony, away!

Why, now, blow wind,

swell billow and swim bark!

The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.

Now, most noble Brutus,

the gods to-day stand friendly,

that we may, lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!

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.

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.

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.

Ride, ride, Messala, ride,

and give these bills unto the legions on the other side.

Let them set on at once.

For I perceive but cold demeanor in Octavius' wing,

and sudden push gives them the overthrow.

Ride, Messala, ride!

Let them all come down.

Be thou my witness, Messala,

that against my will,

am I compell'd to set upon one battle all our liberties.

Coming from Sardis,

on our former ensign

and there they perch'd, gorging and feeding from our soldiers' ands.

This morning are they fled away and gone.

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.

Believe not so.

I but believe it partly.

For I am fresh of spirit

and resolved to meet all perils very constantly.

Go back!

O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly!

This ensign here of mine

was turning back I slew the coward!

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.

Fly further off, my lord,

fly further off!

Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord.

This hill is far enough.

Rate this script:3.0 / 1 vote