Luc. Ay, my Lord, an it please you. I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. 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. Bru. It is well done; and thou shalt sleep again; I will not hold thee long: if I do live, I will be good to thee. [Musick, and a song. This is a sleepy tune :-O murd'rous slumber! That plays thee musick?-Gentle knave, good night; down, Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. Enter the Ghost of Cæsar. [He sits down. How ill this taper burns!-Ha! who comes here? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. Bru. Why com'st thou ? Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt see me at Philippi. Bru. Well; Then I shall see thee again? Ghost. Ay, at Philippi. [Ghost vanishes. Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then.- Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.- Luc. The strings, my lord, are false. Bru. He thinks, he still is at his instrument.Lucius, awake. Luc. My lord! Bru. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so cry'dst out? Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. Bru. Yes, that thou didst: Didst thou see any thing? Luc. Nothing, my lord. Bru. Sleep again, Lucius.- Sirrah, Claudius! Fellow thou! awake. Var. My lord. Clau. My lord. Bru. Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep? Var. Clau. Did we, my lord? Bru. Ay; saw you any thing? Nor I, my lord. Var. No, my lord, I saw nothing. ACT V. SCENE I. The Plains of Philippi. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their Army. Ant. Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know With fearful bravery, thinking, by this face, Enter a Messenger. Mess. Prepare you, generals: The enemy comes on in gallant show; Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, Ant. Octavius, lead your battle softly on, Upon the left hand of the even field. Oct. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left. Oct. I do not cross you; but I will do so. [March. Drum. Enter BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and their Army; Bru. Words before blows: Is it so, countrymen? Ant. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words: Witness the hole you made in Cæsar's heart, Crying, Long live! hail, Cæsar! Cas. Antony, The posture of your blows are yet unknown; Ant. Not stingless too. Bru. O, yes, and soundless too; For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony, And, very wisely, threat before you sting. Ant. Villains, you did not so, when your vile daggers Hack'd one another in the sides of Cæsar : You show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds, |