Octa.
Now, Antony, our hopes are answered.
You said the enemy would not come down,
But keep the hills and upper regions;
It proves not so; 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 bosoms, and I know
Wherefore they do it; they could be content
To visit other places, and come down

* ^noteWith fearful bravery; thinking by this face,
To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage.
But 'tis not so. Enter Antony's servant.

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

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

Octa.
Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.

Ant.
Why do you cross me in this exigent?

Octa.
I do not cross you; but I will do so. [March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their army.

Bru.
They stand, and would have parley† ^note.
Words before blows: Is it so, countrymen?

Octa.
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,
Crying “long live! hail Cæsar.”

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

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 shew'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds,
And bow'd like bond-men, kissing Cæsar's feet;
Whilst damned Casca, like a cur behind,
Struck Cæsar on the neck. O flatterers!

Cas.
Flatterers! now, Brutus, thank yourself;
This tongue had not offended, so to-day,
If Cassius might have rul'd.

Octa.
Come, come, the cause, if arguing make us sweat,
The proof of it will turn to redder drops.
Behold I draw a sword against conspirators;
When think you that the sword goes up again?
Never, 'till Cæsar's three-and-twenty wounds
Be well aveng'd; or 'till another Cæsar
Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.

Bru.
Cæsar, thou canst not die by traitors hands,
Unless thou bring'st them with thee.

Octa.
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 school-boy, worthless of such honour;
Join'd with a masker and a reveller.

Ant.
Old Cassius still!—

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.

Cas.
Why, now blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark;
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard* ^note
























.

The Gods to-day stand friendly; that we may,
Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!
But since th' affairs of men rest still incertain,
Let's reason with the worst that may befal.
If we do lose this battle, then is this
The very last time we shall speak together.
What are you then determined to do?

Bru.
Ev'n 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, so to prevent
The time of life, arming myself with patience,
To stay the providence of some high powers,
That govern us below* ^note.

Cas.
Then if we lose this battle,
You are contented to be led in triumph,
Through the streets of Rome.

Bru.
No, Cassius, no; think not, thou noble Roman,
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
He bears too great a mind. But this same day
Must end that work the ides of March begun;
And whether we shall meet again, I know not;
Therefore our everlasting farewel take;
For ever, and for ever, farewel, Cassius!
If we do meet again, why we shall smile;
If not, why, then this parting was well made.

Cas.
For ever, and for ever, farewel, Brutus!
If we do meet again, we'll smile 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 business, ere it come!
But it sufficeth that the day will end;
And then the end is known. Come, ho, away. [Exeunt. Alarm. Enter Brutus and Trebonius.

Bru.
Haste, haste, Trebonius, haste, and give these bills
Unto the legions, on the other side. [Loud alarm.
Let them set on at once; for I perceive
But cold demeanor in Octavius' wing,
And sudden push gives them the overthrow;
Haste, haste, Trebonius; let them all come down. [Exeunt. Alarm. Enter Cassius and Casca.

Cas.
O look, good Casca, look, the villains fly!
Myself have to mine own turn'd enemy:
This ensign here of mine was turning back,
I slew the coward, and did take it from him.

Casca.
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 were all inclos'd.

Enter Pindarus.

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

Cas.
This hill is far enough. Look, look, my Casca,
Are those my tents, where I perceive the fire?

Casca.
They are, my lord.

Cas.
Casca, if thou lov'st me,
Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him.
Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops,
And here again; that I may rest assur'd,
Whether yon troops are friend or enemy.

Casca.
I will be here again, ev'n with a thought. [Exit.

Cas.
Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill,
My sight was ever thick; keep thine on Casca,
And tell me what thou notest about the field.
This day I breathed first; time is come round,
And where I did begin, there shall I end;
My life is run its compass. Now, what news?

Pind. [Above.]
Oh, my lord!

Cas.
What news?

Pind.
Casca is inclosed round about
With horsemen, that make to him on the spur:
Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him:
Now; Casca, now! some light—oh, he lights too—
He's ta'en—and hark, they shout for joy. [Shout.

Cas.
Come down, behold no more;
Oh, coward that I am, to live so long,
To see my best friend ta'en before my face! Enter Pindarus.
Come hither, sirrah.
In Parthia did I take thee prisoner;
And then I swore thee, saving of thy life,
That whatsoever I did bid thee do,
Thou shouldst attempt it. Come, now keep thine oath,
Now be a freeman; and with this good sword,

That ran through Cæsar's bowels, search this bosom.
Stand not to answer; here, take thou the hilt
And when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now,
Guide thou the sword—Cæsar, thou art reveng'd,
Ev'n with the sword that kill'd thee— [Kills himself.

Pind.
So, I am free; yet would not so have been,
Durst I have done my will. Oh Cassius!
Far from this country Pindarus shall run,
Where never Roman shall take note of him [Exit. Enter Trebonius and Casca.

Tre.
It is but change, Casca: for Octavius
Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,
As Cassius' legions are by Antony.

Casca.
These tidings will well comfort Cassius.

Tre
Where did you leave him?

Casca.
All disconsolate,
With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.

Tre.
Is not that he that lies upon the ground?

Casca.
He lies not like the living. Oh my heart!

Tre.
Is not that he?

Casca.
No, this was he, Trebonius;
But Cassius is no more! Oh, setting sun!
As in thy red rays thou dost sink to-night,
So in his red blood, Cassius's day is set;
The sun of Rome is set! our day is gone;
Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done.
Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.

Tre.
Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.

Casca.
What, Pindarus! where art thou, Pindarus?

Tre.
Seek him, Casca, whilst I go to meet
The noble Brutus with tidings of this sight.

Casca.
Hie you, Trebonius,
And I will seek for Pindarus the while. [Exit Tre.
Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius!
Did I not meet thy friends, and did not they
Put on my brows this wreath of victory,
And bid me give it thee; didst thou not hear their shouts?
Alas, thou hast misconstru'd ev'ry 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 see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
By your leave, gods—This is a Roman's part. [Stabs himself.
Come Cassius's sword, and find out Casca's heart. Alarum. Enter Brutus, Trebonius, Decius, Cinna, and Metellus.

Bru.* ^note
Where, where, Trebonius doth his body lie?

Tre.
Lo, yonder, and Casca mourning it.

Bru.
Casca's face is upward.
Are yet two Romans living, such as these?
Thou last of all the Romans! fare thee well;
It is impossible, that ever Rome
Should breed thy fellow. Friends I owe more tears
To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.
Oh, Julius Cæsar, thou art mighty yet,
Thy spirit stalks abroad and turns our swords
Into our own proper entrails.
Come, let us to the field, and yet ere night,
We'll try our fortunes in a second fight. [Exeunt. Enter several soldiers, with Trebonius prisoner, meeting Antony.

1 Sold.
Here comes the general:
Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.

Ant.
Where is he?

Tre.
Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough,
I dare assure thee that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus:
The gods defend him from so great a shame!
When you do find him, or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.

Ant.
This is not Brutus, friend, but I assure you
A prize no less in worth; keep this man safe,

Give him all kindness. I had rather have
Such men my friends than enemies. Go on,
And see if Brutus be alive or dead;
And bring us word unto Octavius's tent,
How every thing hath chanc'd. [Exeunt. Enter Brutus, Decius, Metellus, and Cinna.

Bru.
Come, poor remains of friends, rest here.
Slaying is the word;
It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Decius. [Whispering.

Dec.
What I, my lord? no, not for all the world.

Bru.
Peace then, no words.

Dec.
I'll rather kill myself.

Bru.
Come hither, good Metellus; list a word.

Met.
What says my lord?

Bru.
Why, this, Metellus;
The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me
Two several times by night; at Sardis, once;
And, and this last night, here in Philippi fields.
I know, my hour is come.

Met.
Not so, my lord.

Bru.
Nay, I am sure it is Metellus.
Thou seest the world, Metellus, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit: [Alarum.
It is more worthy to leap in ourselves,
Than tarry, till they push us. Good Metellus,
Thou know'st that we two went to school together;
Even for that, our love of old, I pr'ythee;
Hold thou my sword's hilt, while I run on it.

Met.
That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarum still.

Bru.
Why then, farewel;
My heart hath joy, that yet in all my life,
I found no man, but he was true to me.
I shall have glory by this losing day.
Retire, and let me think a while—
Now, one last look, and then, farewell to all;
Scorning to view his country's wrongs,
Thus Brutus always strikes for liberty.

Poor slavish Rome, farewel.† ^note
Cæsar, now be still;
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. Oh! [He runs on his sword, and dies. Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony and Octavius, with Trebonius prisoner.

Ant.
Whom mourn you over?

Met.
'Tis Brutus.

Tre.
So Brutus should be found. Thank
Thee, noble Brutus, that thou hast
Prov'd Trebonius's saying true.

Ant.
This was the noblest Roman of them all;* ^note
All the conspirators, save only he,
Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar:
He, only, in a general honest thought,
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the elements,
So mixt in him, that nature might stand up,
And say to all the world; ‘This was a man!’

Octa.
According to his virtue let us use him;
With all respect and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lye,
Most like a soldier, ordered honourably,
So call the field to rest; and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day. [Exeunt omnes.

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