АСТ У. SCENE I. THE PLAINS OF PHILIPPI. Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army. Ant. Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know Mes. Enter a Messenger. Prepare you, generals: The enemy comes on in gallant show; Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, Upon the left hand of the even field. Oct. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left. [March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army; Lucilius, Titinius, Messala, and Others. Bru. They stand, and would have parley. Cas. Stand fast, Titinius: We must out and talk. Oct. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle? Ant. No, Cæsar, we will answer on their charge. Make forth, the generals would have some words. Oct. Stir not until the signal. Bru. Words before blows: Is it so, countrymen? Oct. Not that we love words better, as you do. Bru. Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius. Ant. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words: Witness the hole you made in Cæsar's heart, 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, And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Cæsar's feet; Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind, Cas. Flatterers!-Now, Brutus, thank yourself: Oct. Come, come, the cause: If arguing make us sweat, The proof of it will turn to redder drops. I draw a sword against conspirators; When think you that the sword goes up again?- Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. Bru. Cæsar, thou can'st not die by traitors' hands, Unless thou bring'st them with thee. Oct. So I hope; I was not born to die on Brutus' sword. Bru. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou could'st not die more honourable. Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour, Join'd with a masker and a reveller. Ant. Old Cassius still! Oct. Come, Antony; away.— Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth: If you dare fight to-day, come to the field; If not, when you have stomachs. [Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their Army. Cas. Why now, blow, wind; swell, billow; and swim, bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. This is my birth-day; as this very day Messala, Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala: Be thou my witness, that, against my will, As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set You know, that I held Epicurus strong, This morning are they fled away, and gone; Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost. Cas. I but believe it partly; For I am fresh of spirit, and resolv'd To meet all perils very constantly. Cas. Now, most noble Brutus, The gods to-day stand friendly; that we may, Lovers, in peace, lead on our days to age! Bru. Even by the rule of that philosophy, For fear of what might fall, so to prevent Cas. Then, if we lose this battle, You are contented to be led in triumph. Thorough the streets of Rome? Bru. No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome; Bru. Why then, lead on.-O, that a man might know |