« הקודםהמשך »
Luc. [within.) You shall not come to them.
Cas. How now? What's the matter?
Poet. For shame, you generals; What do you mean?
Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time:
Enter LUCILIUS and TITINIUS.
Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night. Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with
you Immediately to us. [Exeunt Lucilius and TITINIUS. Bru.
Lucius, a bowl of wine. Cas. I did not think, you could have been so angry. Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use,
Bru. No man bears sorrow better:- Portia is dead.
1 What should the wars do with these jigging fools ?] i. e. with these silly poets. A jig signified, in our author's time, a metrical composition, as well as a dance.
2 Companion,] Companion is used as a term of reproach in many of the old plays; as we at present say-fellow.
O insupportable and touching loss !-
Impatient of my absence ;
Cas. And died so?
Enter LUCIUS, with Wine and Tapers. Bru. Speak no more of her.-Give me a bowl of
wine:In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. [Drinks.
Cas. 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. [Drinks.
Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA. Bru. Come in, Titinius : Welcome, good Mes
Cas. Portia, art thou gone?
No more, I pray you. —
Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenour.
Mes. That by proscription, and bills of outlawry,
Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;
Cas. Cicero one?
Ay, Cicero is dead,
Bru. No, Messala.
That, methinks, is strange.
Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell : For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.
Bru. Why, farewell, Portia.—We must die, Messala. With meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now.
Mes. Even so great men great losses should endure.
Cas. I have as much of this in art* as you, But yet my nature could not bear it so.
Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think
Cas. I do not think it good.
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, defence, and nimbleness.
Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to better. The people, 'twixt Philippi and this ground, Do stand but in a forc'd affection ; For they have grudg’d us contribution : The enemy, marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number up, Come on refresh'd, new-added, and encourag'd ;
From which advantage shall we cut him off,
Hear me, good brother.
Then, with your will, go on;
Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk,
No more. Good night.
good Messala ;
O my dear brother!
Every thing is well.
Good night, good brother.
Farewell, every one. [Exeunt Cas. Tit. and MES.
Re-enter Lucius, with the Gown.
Luc. Here in the tent.
What, thou speak'st drowsily?
Luc. Varro and Claudius !
Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS.
Var. Calls my lord ?
Bru. I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent, and sleep; It may be, I shall raise you by and by On business to my brother Cassius. Var. So please you, we will stand, and watch your
pleasure. Bru. I will not have it so: lie down, good sirs; It may be, I shall otherwise bethink me. Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so; I put it in the pocket of my gown. [Servants lie down.
Luc. I was sure, your lordship did not give it me.
Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.
Luc. Ay, my lord, an it please you.
It does, my boy: I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
Luc. It is my duty, sir.
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 ;
[Musick, and a Song. This is a sleepy tune:-0 murd’rous slumber!