Stockdale's edition of Shakespeare, with explanatory notes

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?
Bru. When I spoke tha', I was ill-temper'd too.
Cof. Do you confefs fo much? Give me your hand
Bru. And my heart too.
Caf. O Brutus !-

Bru. What's the matter?

Caf. Have not you love enough to bear with me, When that rafh humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Caffius; and, from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you fo.
[4 mife within.
Po t. [within] Let me go in to fee the generals;
There is fome grudge between them, 'tis not meet
They be alone.

Luc. [within] You fhall not come to them.
Poet. [within Nothing but death fhall stay me.
Enter Poct.

Caf. How now? What's the matter? [mean?
Poct. For fhame; you generals; What do you
Love, and be friends, as two fuch men thould be;
For I have feen more years, I am fure, than ye.
Caf. Ha, ha; how vilcly doth this cynic rhime!
Bru. Get you hence, firrah; faucy fellow, hence.
Caf. Bear with him, Brutus; 'tis his fathion.
Bra. I'll know his humour, when he knows
his time:
[fools-
What fhould the wars do with thefe jigging
Companion, hence.

Caf. Away, away, be gone.

[Exit Poet

Enter Lucilius, and Titinius.
Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

Caf. And come yourfelves, and bring Meffala
with you

Immediately to us. [Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.
Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine.

Caf. I did not think, you could have been fo

angry.

Bru. O Caffius, I am fick of many griefs.
Caf. Of your philofophy you make no ufe,

If you give place to accidental evils.

That tidings came ;With this fhe fell diftract,
And, her attendants abfent, fwallow'd tire 2.
Caf. And dy'd fo?

Bru. Even fo.

Caf. O ye immortal gols !

Enter Lucius, with wine, and tapers.

Bru. Speak no more of her.-Give me a bowl of wine :

In this I bury all unkindness, Caffius.

[Drinks.

Caf. My heart is thirty for that noble pledge:-
Fill, Lucius, 'till the wine o'er-fwell the cup;

I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love.
Re-enter Titinius, and Meala.

Bru. Come in, Titinius :

Meffala.

-Welcome, good

Now fit we clofe about this taper here,
And call in queftion our neceflities.

Cof. Portia art thou gone?
Bru. No more, I pray you.
Mellala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius, and Mark Antony,
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition towards Philippi.

Mef. Myfelf have letters of the felf-fame tenour.
Bu. With what addition?
Mef. That by profcription, and bills of outlawry,
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,
Have put to death a hundred fenators.

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;
Mine fpeak of feventy fenators, that dy'd
By their profcriptions, Cicero being one.
Caf. Cicero one?

Mf. Cicero is dead,
And by that order of profcription.-
Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
Bru. No, Meffala.

Maj. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
Bru. Nothing, Meilala.

Mej. That, methinks, is ftrange.

Bru. Why afk you? Hear you aught of her in yours?

Mf. No, my lord.

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. Mef. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell : For certain the is dead, and by strange manner. Bru. Why, farewel, Portia-We muit die, Meffala:

With meditating that the muft die once,

I have the patience to endure it now.
M. Even fo great men great loffes should endure.
Caf. I have as much of this in art as you,

Bru. No man bears forrow better:--Portia is dead. But yet my nature could not bear it fo.
Caf. Ha! Portia ?

Bru. She is dead.

Caf. How 'cap'd I killing, when I crots'd you
O infupportable and touching lofs !---
Upon what fickness ?

Bru. Impatient of my abfence;

And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony
Have made themselves fo ftrong;-for with her

death

1 i. e. fellow.

(think

Br. Well, to our work alive. What do you
Of marching to Philippi prefentły ?
Caf. I do not think it good.

Bru. Your reason ?

Caf. This it is:

'Tis better, that the enemy feek us:

So fhall he wafte his means, weary his foldiers,
Doing himself offence; whilft we, lying ftil.,
Are full of reft, defence, and nimbleness.

2 This circumftance is taken from Plutarch, and is alfo mentioned by Val Maximus. Pliny, however, reports her to have died at Rome of a lingering illnefs, while Brutus was broad.

Bra

Bra. Good reafons muft, of force, give place | to better.

The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground,
Do ftand but in a forc'd affection;
For they have grudg'd us contribution:
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them fhall make a fuller number up,
Come on refresh'd, new-added, and encourag'd;
From which advantage fhall we cut him off,
If at Philippi we do face him there,
These people at our back.

Caf. Hear me, good brother.

Bru. Under your pardon.-You must note befide,
That we have try'd the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brim full, our cause is ripe :
The enemy increafeth 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 miferies.
On fuch a full fea are we now afloat;

And we mult take the current when it ferves,
Or lofe our ventures.

Caf. Then, with your will, go on; we will along Ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And nature muft obey neceffity; Which we will niggard with a little reft. There is no more to say?

Caf. No more. Good night:

Early to-morrow will we rife, and hence.

Bru. Lucius, my gown. [Exit Luc.] Farewel,
good Meifala;-

Good night, Titinius :--Noble, noble Caflius,
Good night, and good repofe.

Caf. O my dear brother!

This was an ill beginning of the night :
Never come fuch divifion 'tween our fouls!

Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.

Can't thou hold up thy heavy eyes a while,

And touch thy inftrument a ftrain or two?
Luc. Ay, my lord, an't please you.
Bru. It does, my boy:

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
Luc. It is my duty, fir.

Bru. I fhould not urge thy duty past thy might; I know, young bloods look for a time of rest. Luc. I have flept, my lord, already.

Bru. It was well done; and thoufhalt fleep again: I will not hold thee long: if I do live, I will be good to thee. [Mufick, and a fong. This is a fleepy tune :-O murd'rous flumber! Lay'ft thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee mufick?--Gentle knave, good night; I will not do thee fo much wrong to wake thee.If thou doft nod, thou break'it thy inftrument; I'll take it from thee; and good boy, good night. Let me fee, let me fee;-Is not the leaf turn'd down,

Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
[He fits down to read.
Enter the Ghost of Cefar.

How ill this taper burns-Ha! who comes here?
I think, it is the weaknels of mine eyes
That fhapes this monttrous apparition.

It comes upon me: Art thou any thing?
Art thou fome god, fome angel, or tome devil,

That mak'it my blood cold, and my hair to ftare?
Speak to me, what thou art.

Ghoff. Thy evil fpirit, Brutus.

Bra. Why com'ft thou ?

Gla. To tell thee, thou shalt fee me at Philippi.
Bru. Well; Then I fhall fee thee again?

Bra. Why, I will tee thee at Philippi then.-
Now I have taken heart, thou vanifheft:

Ill fpirit, I would hold more talk with thee.-
Boy! Lucius!--Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake!
Claudius!

Luc. The ftrings, my lord, are falfe.

Bru. He thinks, he ftill is at his inftrument.[Exeunt. Lucius, awake.

Bra. Why did you fo cry out, firs, in your fleep?
Bub. Did we, my lord?

Bru. Ay; Saw you ary thing?
Var. No, my lord, I faw nothing.
Clau. Nor I, my lord.

Bru. Go, and commend me to my brother Caflius;
Bid him fet on his powers betimes before,
And we will follow.

Bath. It shall be done, my lord.
A mace is the ancient term for a fcepter.

[Extent

ACT

АСТ V.

SCENE I.

The Plains of Philippi.

Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.

And bow'd like bondmen, kiffing Cæfar's feet;
Whilft damned Cafca, like a cur, behind,
Struck Cæfar on the neck. O you flatterers !
Caf. Flatterers! Now, Brutus, thank yourself:

Octa. NOW, Antony, our hopes are an- This tongue had not offended so to-day,

You faid, the enemy would not come down,
But keep the hills and upper regions;
It proves not fo: their battles are at hand;
They mean to warn us at Philippi here,
Answering before we do demand of them.

Ant. Tut, I am in their bofoms, and I know
Wherefore they do it: they could be content
To vifit other places; and come down
With fearful bravery, thinking, by this face,
To faften in our thoughts that they have courage;
But 'tis not fo.

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. Prepare you, generals :
The enemy comes on in gallant shew;
Their bloody fign of battle is hung out,
And fomething to be done immediately.

Ant. Octavius, lead your battle foftly on,
Upon the left hand of the even field.

Octa. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.
Ant. Why do you crofs me in this exigent?
Octa. I do not cross you; but I will do fo.

Drum.

[March.
Enter Brutus, Caffius, and their Army;
Lucilius, Titinius, Meffala, &c.

Bru. They ftand, and would have parley.
Caf. Stand faft, Titinius: We must out and talk.
Octa. Mark Antony, fhall we give sign of battle?
Ant. No, Cæfar, we will answer on their charge.
Make forth, the generals would have fome words.
Octa. Stir not until the fignal.

Bru. Words before blows: Is it fo, countrymen?
Octa. Not that we love words better, as you do.
Bra. Good words are better than bad ftrokes
Octavius.

If Caffius might have rul'd.

[us fweat,
Octa. Come, come, the caufe: If arguing make
The proof of it will turn to redder drops.
Look, I draw a fword against conspirators;
When think you that the sword goes up again?—
Never, 'till Cæfar's three and twenty wounds

Be well aveng'd; or 'till another Cæfar
Have added flaughter to the fword of traitors.
Bru. Cæfar, thou can'ft not die by traitors hands,
Unless thou bring'ft them with thee.

Oca. So I hope;

I was not born to die on Brutus' fword.

Bru. O, if thou wert the nobleft of thy ftrain, Young man, thou could'st not die more honourable.

Caf. A peevish school boy, worthlefs of fuch honour,

Join'd with a masker and a reveller.

Ant. Old Caffius ftill!

Octa. 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 Army. Caf. Why now, blow, wind; fwell, billow; and fwim, bark!

The ftorm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Bru. Ho, Lucilius; hark, a word with you.
[Lucilius and Meffala fand forth.
Luc. My lord. [Brutus fpeaks apart to Lucilius.
Caf. Meffala.

Mef. What fays my general?
Caf. Meffala,

This is my birth-day; as this very day
Was Caffius born. Give me thy hand, Meffaia:
Be thou my witness, that, against my will,

Ant. In your bad ftrokes, Brutus, you give good As Pompey was, am I compell'd to fet

words:

Witness the hole you made in Cæfar's heart,

Crying, Long live! bail Cafar!

Caf. Antony,

The pofture of your blows are yet unknown;
But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,
And leave them honeyless.

Ant. Not ftinglefs too.

Bru. O, yes, and foundlefs too;

For you have ftol'n their buzzing, Antony,
And, very wifely, threat before you fting.

Upon one battle all our liberties.

You know, that I held Epicurus ftrồng,
And his opinion: now I change my mind,
And partly credit things that do prefage.
Coming from Sardis, on our foremost enfign
Two mighty eagles fell; and there they perch'd,
Gorging and feeding from our foldiers' hands;
Who to Philippi here conforted us :

This morning are they fled away, and gone;
And, in their fteads, do ravens, crows, and kites,

Fly o'er our heads, and downward look on us,

Ant. Villains, you did not fo, when your vile As we were fickly prey; their shadows feem

daggers

Hack'd one another in the fides of Cæfar:

You thew'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like

hounds,

A canopy moft fatal, under which

Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.

Mef. Believe not fo.

Caf. I bur believe it partly;

For I am fresh of fpirit, and refolv'd
To meet all perils very conftantly.
Bru. Even fo, Lucilius.

Caf. Now, molt noble Brutus,

The gods to-day ftand friendly; that we may,
Lovers, in peace, lead on our days to age!
But fince the affairs of men reft ftill uncertain,
Let's reafon with the worft that may befall.
If we do lose this battle, then is this
The very last time we fhall fpeak together:
What are you then determined to do?

Bru. Even by the rule of that philosophy,
By which I did blame Cato for the death
Which he did give himself :-I know not how,
But I do find it cowardly and vile,

For fear of what might fall, fo to prevent
The time of life:-arming myself with patience,
To stay the providence of fome high powers,
That govern us below.

Caf. Then, if we lofe this battle,
You are contented to be led in triumph
Thorough the streets of Rome ?

[Roman,

Bru. No, Caffius, no: think not, thou noble
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
He bears too great a mind. But this fame day
Muft end that work, the ides of March begun;
And whether we shall meet again, I know not.
Therefore our everlafting farewel take :-
For ever, and for ever, farewel, Caffius!
If we do meet again, why we shall smile;
If not, why then this parting was well made.
Caf. For ever, and for ever, farewel, Brutus !
If we do meet again, we'll fmile indeed;
If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made.
Bru. Why then, lead on.-O, that a man
might know

The end of this day's bufinefs, ere it come!
But it fufficeth, that the day will end,
And then the end is known.-Come, ho! away!

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

Enter Pindavus.

Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off; Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord: Fly therefore, noble Caffius, fly far off.

Caf. This hill is far enough.Look, look, Titinius;

Are thofe my tents, where I perceive the fire? Tit. They are, my lord.

Caf. Titinius, if thou lov'ft me,

Mount thou my horfe, and hide thy fpurs in him,
'Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops,
And here again; that I may reft aflur'd,
Whether yon troops are friend or enemy.
Tit. I will be here again, even with a thought.

[Shout.

Caf. Come down, behold no more.—
O, coward that I am, to live fo long,
To fee my best friend ta'en before my face!
Re-enter Pindarus.

Come hither, firrah :
In Parthia did I take thee prifoner;
And then I fwore thee, faving of thy life,
That what foever I did bid thee do, [oath;
Thou fhould'st attempt it. Come now, keep thine
Now be a freeman; and, with this good fword,
That ran through Cæfar's bowels, fearch this bofom.
Stand not to answer: Here, take thou the hilts;
And, when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now,
Guide thou the fword.-Cæfar, thou art reveng'd,
Even with the fword that kill'd thee.
[Dies

Pin. So, I am free; yet would not fo have been,
|Durit I have done my will. O Caffius!
Far from this country Pindarus fhall run,
Where never Roman shall take note of him. [Exit.
Re-enter Titinius, with Meffala.

Mef. It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,

As Caflius' legions are by Antony.

Tit. Thef tidings will well comfort Caffius.
M. Where did you leave him?

Tit. All difconfolate,

With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.

Mef. Is not that he, that lies upon the ground? Tit. He lies not like the living. O my heart! Mef. Is not that he?

Tit. No, this was he, Meffala,

I i. e. I am refolved in fuch a cafe to kill myself.

But

But Caflius is no more.-O fetting fun!
As in thy red rays thou doft fink to night,
So in his red blood Caflius' day is fet;
The fun of Rome is fet! Our day is gone;
Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are
done;

Mistrust of my fuccefs hath done this deed.

Mef. Miftruft of good fuccefs hath done this deed. O hateful error, melancholy's child!

Why doft thou fhew to the apt thoughts of men
The things that are not? O error, foon conceiv'd,
Thou never com'ft unto a happy birth,
But kill'ft the mother that engender'd thee.

Tit. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus?
Mf. Seek him, Titinius; whilft I go to meet
The noble Brutus, thrufting this report
Into his ears: I may fay, thrufting it;
For piercing fteel, and darts envenomed,
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus,
As tidings of this fight.

Tit. Hie you, Meffala,

And I will feek for Pindarus the while. [Exit Mef.
Why didft thou fend me forth, brave Caffius?
Did I not meet thy friends? and did not they
Put on my brows this wreath of victory,

I will proclaim my name about the field :-

I am the fon of Marcus Cato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
I am the fon of Marcus Cato, ho!
Enter Soldiers, and fight.

Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I; Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus. [Excit

Luc. O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Why, now thou dy't as bravely as Titinius; And may't he honour'd being Cato's fon. 1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest. Luc. Only 1 yield to die :

There is fo much, that thou wilt kill me straight; [Offering many.

Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.

1 Sold. We must not.-A noble prifoner!

2 Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta’en. 1 Sold. I'll tell the news.--Here comes the general:

Enter Antory.

Luc. Safe, Antony; Brutus is fafe enough:

I dare affure thee, that no enemy

And bid me give it thee? Didft thou not hear their Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :

fhouts ?

Alas, thou haft mifconftrued every thing.
But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
Will do his bidding.-Brutus, come apace,
And fee how I regarded Caius Caffius.-
By your leave, gods:--This is a Roman's part;
Come, Callius' fword, and find Titinius' heart.

[Dies. Alarum. Enter Brutus, Meffala, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilias.

Bru. Where, where, Meffala, doch his body lie? Mcf. Lo, yonder: and Titinius mourning it. Bru. Titinius face is upward.

Cato. He is flain.

Bru. Ob Julius Caefar, thou art mighty yet! Thy fpirit walks abroad, and turns our fwords In our own proper entrails.

Cato. Brave Titinius!

Low alarums.

Look, whe'r he have not crown'd dead Caffius!
Bru. Are yet two Romans living fuch as these ?---
Thou latt of all the Romans, fare thee well!
It is impoffible that ever Rome

Should breed thy fellow.-Friends, Iowe more tears
To this dead man, than you fhall fee me pay.-
I fhall find time, Catfius, I thall find time.---
Come, therefore, and to Thaifos fend his body;
His funeral fhall not be in our camp,
Left it difcomfort us.-Lucilius, come ;—
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.—
Labeo, and Flavius, fet our battles on:-
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We fhall try fortune in a fecond fight.

SCEN E IV.

Another Part of the Field.

[Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Cato, Lucilius, and others.

The gods defend him from fo great a shame!
When you do find him, or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himfelf.

Ant. This is not Brutus, friend; but, I affure yon,
A prize no lefs in worth: keep this man fafe,
Give him all kindnefs: I had rather have
Such men my friends, than enemies. Go on,
And fee whe'r Brutus be alive, or dead;
And bring us word, unto Octavius' tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

SCENE Another Part of the Field.

[Excunt.

Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and l ́olumnins.

Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, reft on this rock. [lord, Ch. Statilius fhew'd the torch-light: but, my He came not back, he is or ta'en, or flain. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: Slaying is the word; It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Chitur.-

Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
Bru. Peace then, no words.
Cli. I'll rather kill myfelf.
Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius!
Dar. Shall I do fuch a deed ?
Cli. O, Pardanius!
Dar. O, Clitus!

Cli. What ill requeft did Brutus make to thee?
Dar. To kill him, Clitus: Look, he meditates.
Cli. Now is that noble veffel full of grief,

That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius: lift a word. Tol. What fays my lord ?

Bru. Why, this, Volumnius:

The ghoft of Cefar hath appear'd to me

Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, yet, hold up your Two feveral times by night at Sardis, once; [me? And, this latt night, here in Philippi' fields. Cato. What baitard doth not? Who will go with I know, my hour is come.

heads!

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