ACT II. SCENE I. The same Vestibule. Enter Varius, with Titinius newly arriv'd at Athens.

TITINIUS.
What mean these sumptuous Preparations?
Is this a Time for either Pomp, or Pleasure?
When two, the best and boldest Sons of Rome,
The justest Cause too that was e'er defended,
Are on the very Brink of their Destruction.

VARIUS.
Oh wrong not sacred Athens, Sir, the Nurse
The Mother of all Arts and Sciences:
Has she spread Wit and Learning thro' the World,
Nay soften'd Rome her self (but rough before)

To Arts, to Eloquence, and gentler Manners;
And is she now upbraided?

TITINIUS.
Fallacious Eloquence, and useless Arts!
I own her Learning; but that Polishing
Has but too much weaken'd our harder Steel.
Our ancient, rough, and manly Worth now bends
At the hard touch of Perils and of Toils.
Our Gold is melted to a finer Shape,
But mix'd with dross of Flatt'ry and Corruption.
How else could Brutus be a banish'd Man?
Or how could Liberty fly here for Refuge?

VARIUS.
And whither should it fly, if not to Athens?
The School of all Philosophy and Virtue.
Our publick Recreations here are sacred:
This Day th' Athenians, ever true to Virtue,
In this low Ebb, in spite of pow'rful Rome,
Have kept their Custom tho' against their Safety,

And consecrated Sports for your Success.

TITINIUS.
Is't possible? Pardon a Stranger's Error,
Newly arriv'd with Succours from afar,
Sent from the Gods, I think: for 'tis their Cause;
And unknown Regions have espous'd our Quarrel.

VARIUS.
The Sports are just beginning; I have time
Only to let you know these are not Trifles,
Or such as are in Nations loose of Manners;
But solemn Celebrations to the Gods,
With pious Hymns imploring their Protection.
Wise Athens ever has indulg'd Diversions
With more Magnificence than greatest Princes:
But they are all dispos'd in Praise of Virtue,
Inspiring Courage, Generosity,
And most of all, Affection to their Country.
How think you now, Titinius?

TITINIUS.
I recant,
And grow my self impatient for your Pleasures. SCENE II. The Scene opens, and discovers the magnificent Temple of Bacchus, where the Publick Entertainments were wont to be celebrated at Athens. The Statue of Brutus being this Day erected, is supposed to be the Occasion of these Solemnities, and must appear in the farthermost part of the Stage. After the Shews and Songs are over, Brutus, Lucilius, Titinius, and Varius remain on the Stage.

LUCILIUS.
By these refin'd Diversions, we perceive
This Town retains its old Magnificence.
No wonder Atticus, so nice a Judge,
When he retir'd, preferr'd this place to all.

VARIUS.
Philosophy is highly'st honour'd here;
And from that Fountain of superior Wisdom
Flows all this Stream of Arts and Sciences.

BRUTUS.
Here Poetry, harmoniously divine,
Is most transporting, thus accompany'd
With artful Paintings, and melodious Sounds.
The Muses join in all Athenian Pleasures.

VARIUS.
But that which has occasion'd these Delights,
Gives the true taste to all; your matchless Merit.

BRUTUS.
Hold, Varius; too much has been said already
In complement: and I receive it only
As Honour done me for Rome's sake, not mine.
So Prizes, taken but by vulgar Hands,
Are brought in Triumph to the Capitol.

LUCILIUS.
Yet then, we know, that Leader justly triumphs
Under whose Conduct those rich Spoils are gain'd.

BRUTUS.
But were our Conduct equal to our Cause,
In which the noble Cassius, and my self
Have here engag'd all Asia on our Side;
Yet the whole World deliver'd, must acknowledge
All owing to this gen'rous Commonwealth.

VARIUS.
Rome could not fail to find support in Athens,
Her elder Sister, both in Arts and Arms,
And great Protectress of fair Liberty;
That Liberty to which she owes her Splendour.

BRUTUS.
Most truly noted: From whence ever came
Good Sense, or Learning, Arts of Peace, or War?
Deepness of Thought, or Nobleness of Nature?
Except where Liberty enlarg'd the Mind?

VARIUS.
The very Air of Freedom breeds great Souls,
Which Education ripens into Virtue.

BRUTUS.
And here inspires the usefullest of Virtues,
Tender Affection to our native Country.

VARIUS.
My Friends and near Relations, when I took
My tender leave, after a thousand Counsels,
Assur'd me that their greatest Satisfaction
Was, that they sent me to this famous Place
Where Wisdom, and where Virtue best are taught;
And own'd, when Romans write the most politely,
Their highest Praise is to have copy'd well.

BRUTUS.
Tully himself confesses Greece superiour:
Yet he, of all our famous Wits of Rome,
Shines much the brightest.

VARIUS.
Such applause from Brutus
Is a Reward equal to all his Merit.

TITINIUS.
To be esteem'd by you, the greatest Kings
Here send their Legions, and have lent their Treasure.

BRUTUS.
And timely comes this Aid: Advice from Rome
Assures us, all their Force is on the March.

VARIUS.
I thought Dissension was among their Chiefs,
Each of them striving to set up himself. Enter Cassius.

CASSIUS.
Just now is come most unexpected News;
Our Foes have forc'd their Gen'rals to be Friends,
And call'd it Civil War to fight in Quarrels
Between Octavius and Antony;
Yet think their War is lawful against us.

TITINIUS.
Alas, what reasoning can there be in Fools,
Who, bred in Faction, blindly join with Knaves?

LUCILIUS.
They are for License, not for Liberty;
And love those Gen'rals best, who lead to Mischief.

BRUTUS.
You have describ'd a State just ripe for Ruin.

CASSIUS.
Small Marches need they make, to meet a Foe
So eager as we are, to free our Country.
Oh the delay is tiresome!

BRUTUS.
Yet have Patience.
With Vigour act, but think of all with Caution.

CASSIUS.
Our Rendezvouz is settled at Philippi.

BRUTUS.
Thither you march to Night, and I to Morrow.

But Junia comes, I fear, to mourn your Absence. (Exeunt, Manet Cassius. SCENE III. Enter Junia.

JUNIA.
Now, all the Gods that guard the Innocent,
Protect my Cassius! they are marching hither:
Ruin is rolling on us from afar.

CASSIUS.
Not hither, Junia; we shall spare their Pains;
Our Forces intercept their bold Presumption,
And I just now am making haste to meet them.

JUNIA.
Come then, away; with you all Pains are easy;
I am this moment ready for the Journey.

CASSIUS.
Ready, alas! you must not for this world
Share in the Shifts and Hazards I must run;
Virtue, like yours, here none will dare to harm;

And while you stay in Athens, I am easy;
My dear, and better half, is out of Danger.

JUNIA.
And am I yet more wretched than I thought?
I had no Comfort left for your Misfortunes,
But that I was to share them ev'ry where:
And will you take that from me? O 'tis hard!
You would not, if you saw my sighing Heart.

CASSIUS.
And you should go, did I not doubt my own:
But 'tis so tender always towards you,
It shakes, alas, my firmest Resolutions.
I, like some skilful Swimmer in a Shipwreck,
Grasping his only Treasure in his Arms,
May, for thy sake, make too much haste to shore,
Leaving the Bark with all my Friends behind.
Your Sighs would blow away my best Resolves,
Soften my Soul, and slacken all its Strength.
When all's at stake, I eagerly may fix

My Mind on you, and never think beyond.

JUNIA.
Beyond? Why, is there any thing beyond
The dear, the charming Object of our Love:
Mere Thought of that is height of Happiness.
What Image have we of Elysian Bowers,
But such a gentle, calm, contented State?
What has this trifle of a World to do
With a blest Pair, who live embracing thus?

CASSIUS.
What says my Charmer? can I leave this Woman?
I could look thus, and languish here for ever.
Yet there's one Tye, more dear than Life, Love;
'Tis Honour, and the sacred Good of Rome.
For these I kill'd the greatest Man on Earth,
Engag'd the best and noblest of Mankind
(And saying that, I need not name your Brother)
To stab his Friend, and his own Heart at once.
Since I have done all this, I must do more;

Leave Junia here, and all my Joys behind.

JUNIA.
Did I e'er think that Cassius would forsake me?

CASSIUS.
Forsake? I leave you as the richest Pledge
Which can be giv'n to this illustrious City,
That Rome it self can be no dearer to me,
Than friendly Athens for protecting you.

JUNIA.
Jewels we prize we seldom leave behind:
Oh take me with you! my officious Love
Perhaps may shield you from some sudden Danger,
Soften your angry and uneasy Hours,
And make Adversity it self seem pleasing.
My Love could do all this, if yours were equal. (Weeps.

CASSIUS.
All this? nay more, what cannot Junia do?
Then, since I dare not hazard you in Armies,

I will stay here, and dye within your Arms.

JUNIA.
You dye? Oh Heav'n! the very Sound of that
Checks my Designs, and chills all my Desires.

CASSIUS.
Hast thou not heard how hard ungrateful Rome
Pursues the Men who once deliver'd her,
And riots in the Blood of her Redeemers?
Two of our Band they have destroy'd already,
And vow to spare no Murderer of Cæsar;
That is to say, no Man that lov'd his Country,
Ruin'd himself, only to rescue her.

JUNIA.
Oh I have talk'd too long: go on, make haste;
I am not wont, alas, to use this Language,
But now I can say nothing else: Away,
No matter what becomes of Me, away.

CASSIUS.
Your spotless Fame must always be your Guard,

Rudeness it self will reverence such Virtue.
I must immediately haste to our Friends,
Who all assembled in the Fields of Sardis,
Wait there for me and Brutus. He, to morrow,
Shall follow, at the Head of mighty Numbers,
Rais'd only by the Credit of our Cause;
A Cause, well worthy of the World to succour!
Oh, while I languish out this long, long Absence,
Take care of all my Treasure, thy dear self.

JUNIA.
Farewel! thou truest, kindest, best of Men!
But one Look more—and then a long Farewel
To all Content—all, till we meet again. (Exit Cassius, Manet Junia. SCENE IV. Enter Varius.

VARIUS.
Junia in Tears! so shines an April Sun;
And so the precious Dew that drops on Flowers,

Steals down unheeded by the vulgar Eye:
But I admire this Master-piece of Nature.

JUNIA.
Alas, my Lord, Cassius is gone to Sardis.

VARIUS.
Is't possible? So I was told before,
Yet never could believe it till this moment.

JUNIA.
Why, was it not determin'd so in Council?

VARIUS.
I must confess it was debated there,
And wish'd by some, that all our Force at Sardis
Had some great Chief, for keeping martial Sway:
But who could hope that Cassius would be willing
To part from you, one Day, without Occasion?

JUNIA.
Is it so strange that Cassius should be forward
In all the Proofs of Courage, or of Conduct?

VARIUS.
His Fame forbids I should have such a Thought.
But yet—

JUNIA.
But what? I cannot guess your Meaning.

VARIUS.
Not all the noble Discipline of War,
Strict Rules of Conduct, Heat of martial Prowess,
The Faith of Friendship, or the Oaths of Leagues,
Not Fame it self, no nor the Publick Good,
Deserve to be preferr'd to Junia's Love.

JUNIA.
But Rome's at stake.

VARIUS.
And well it would be lost,
For staying here one Night within those Arms.

JUNIA.
Varius, so high a Complement as this
Shews you have study'd long at courtly Athens;

Where you have learn'd to know all things, but me:
Who, tho' I value Caius Cassius,
As Slaves do Liberty, or sick Men Health,
Nay more than most of my own Sex love Power;
Yet (what I think the very worst of Fates)
I would lose sight of that dear Man for ever,
Rather than see him fail our Country's Cause.

VARIUS.
Oh ample Recompence for all his Troubles,
To be so lov'd by you! But is he grateful,
Who can so easily endure your Absence?

JUNIA.
I mourn for his, and judge his Grief by mine.
Retirement suits a solitary Wife,
And Melancholy loves to be alone. (Offers to go out.

VARIUS.
But should not be indulg'd against your Health. (Stops her.

Rather shine forth, and chear your Brother's Soul,
Which daily sinks beneath a thousand Cares.

JUNIA.
His Soul's too great to need such feeble Help.
Besides, tho' priz'd he be above Expression,
Yet ev'n his Friendship must not vye with Love:
One Thought of Cassius out-weighs all things else.
Cassius, whose noble Soul would ne'er submit
To him who domineer'd o'er all besides:
Cassius, Contriver of the Tyrant's Fall;
And, (what is more, far more than all the rest)
That hardy Man who mov'd it first to Brutus.
This Man, my Husband, or my Hero rather,
Shall with his Presence ever chear my Eyes,
Or in his Absence take up all my Thoughts. (Exit Junia.

SCENE V. Enter Brutus.

BRUTUS.
My Sister weeping! Tho' her Reason governs,
I judge her Grief for Cassius, by my own,
For Portia's Absence sits upon my Heart:
Nor need I blush to bear the tender Burthen,
So much she merits, and so well she loves.
But publick Cares must silence private Grief;
Since ev'ry Hour some fresh Expresses tell
New fatal Turns in Rome, portending ill:
The wav'ring Lepidus (perceiving Cæsar
Had cunningly agreed with Antony)
Tho' with a greater Army, yields to them.

VARIUS.
What says the noble Brutus?—Junia gone!

BRUTUS.
Is Varius deaf to Dangers of his Country?

VARIUS.
Forbid it Jove! But Junia's Melancholy,
So very moving, took up all my Thoughts.

BRUTUS.
Too moving, I'm afraid.

VARIUS.
Indeed my Lord,
Had you perceiv'd the Charms of weeping Beauty,
That gorgeous Dress which Sorrow had put on,
(Out-shining all the Gaiety of Youth,
The pleasing Smiles of Mirth, and Airs of Joy)
Your gentle Nature would be mov'd like mine.

BRUTUS.
Why you have drawn a Picture, my young Varius,
Like any Poet, nay like any Lover.
What, does that word draw forth a guilty Blush?
Be not alarm'd, no more than I am, Varius;
Junia's strict Virtue and known Love to Cassius,
Fully prevent my Fears, unless for you;

Whose Father's wond'rous Merit, and your own,
Give me a soft Concern, as for a Son.
She is above your very vainest Hopes:
Not the most tempting Charms of Wit, or Worth,
Most graceful Forms, or dazling shew of Greatness,
Can make Impression on a Mind like her's;
Who, tho' my Sister, forces Praises from me.

VARIUS.
Too much, alas, I join in Junia's Praise:
My eager Thoughts still fly before your Words,
And find them short, far short of Junia's due.

BRUTUS.
Then whence can rise self-flatt'ring Expectation?
Can Varius reason thus against himself,
And act quite contrary to what he thinks?
Oh what is Man, when blinded with his Passion!

VARIUS.
Why just that Creature Heaven thought fit to make him.
You are, indeed, exempt from all our Follies,

And rest serene within: Yet pity others!
Behold, I own my undisguis'd Offence,
And freely open all my Thoughts to you;
To you, who are a very God to Varius,
Who can at once forgive, and cure my Weakness.

BRUTUS.
But only by Despair: without that help,
There is no God himself can give you ease:
A sharp, I must confess, but certain Cure.
Our Stoical Philosophy instructs us,
A wise Man is above the reach of Jove,
Yet hardly 'scapes the worst of Demons, Love.
But since good Junia's Soul is firm as Fate,
Be yours so too. What helps it to be learn'd?
Or to be wise in Bus'ness of the World?
Nay, where would be the good to rule that World,
Without an inward Pow'r to govern Passion?
The Man disturb'd within, is but a Player;
May act abroad, perhaps, some Hero's Part,
But sinks at home, a low, uneasy Slave.

VARIUS.
To teach is easy; but to learn is hard.
As well might Heav'nly Socrates infuse
His own wise Temper while he taught his Morals,
As Brutus raise my Soul to equal his.

BRUTUS.
Be not so modest, Varius, nor so courtly;
Brutus is not your Mistress, but your Friend.
The Roman Virtue shines so bright in you,
Nothing is wanting to make up Perfection
But your Command o'er this unfruitful Passion.
Love, ev'n when most successful, makes not happy.
Sometimes indeed, Pleasure beyond expression
Possesses all at once both Mind and Body,
Confounding Soul and Sense with height of Rapture.
But what. Allays o'erbalance all this Joy!
Frequent Disquiets, Doubts, and Jealousies;
Sometimes the Pains of Absence, and sometimes
Amidst the Bliss, a dismal Dread to lose it.
At best, the Pleasure is but intermitting,

While the uneasy Fever never ceases.
But Love, when slighted, is intolerable:
Who courts the fairest Tyrant, is a Fool,
And lives a Martyr in the meanest Cause.

VARIUS.
Enough, enough, I am already cur'd,
At least, till Junia is beheld again.

BRUTUS.
'Tis half a Cure in Love to wish for one.
Give me your Hand, you'll march with me to Morrow;
Where you will drown your Sighs in Sounds of War,
And turn your tend'rest Thoughts on your poor Country. (Exeunt Brutus and Varius.

Second CHORUS. Of Athenian Youths and Virgins. By Mr. POPE. YOUTHS.
  O Tyrant Love! hast thou possest
  The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous Breast?
  Wisdom and Wit in vain reclaim,
And Arts but soften us to feel thy Flame.
  Varius with Blushes owns he loves,
  And Brutus tenderly reproves.
  Why, Virtue, dost thou blame Desire,
    Which Nature has imprest?
  Why, Nature, dost thou soonest fire
    The mild and gen'rous Breast?

VIRGINS.
  Love's purer Flames the Gods approve;
  The Gods, and Brutus bend to Love:
  Brutus for absent Portia sighs,
And sterner Cassius melts at Junia's Eyes.
  What is loose Love? A wand'ring Fire,
  A transient Fit of fond Desire.
  But Hymen's Flames like Stars unite,
    And burn for ever one;
  Chaste, as cold Cynthia's Virgin Light,
    Productive as the Sun. YOUTHS.
  What various Joys on One attend,
  As Son, as Father, Husband, Friend?
  Whether his hoary Sire he spies,
And finds a thousand grateful Thoughts arise,
  Or meets his Spouse's fonder Eye,
  Or views his smiling Progeny;

What tender Passions take theit turns?
  What home-felt Raptures move?
His Heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
  With Rev'rence, Hope, and Love. CHORUS of Both.
Hence guilty Joys, Distastes, Surmises,
False Oaths, false Tears, Deceits, Disguises,
Dangers, Doubts, Delays, Surprises,
  (Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine)
Purest Love's unwasting Treasure,
Constant Faith, fair Hope, long Leisure,
Days of Ease, and Nights of Pleasure,
  Sacred Hymen! these are thine.

ACT III. SCENE I. In the same Vestibule. Enter Brutus, Junia, Lucilius.

LUCILIUS.
A messenger express arriv'd from Rome,
Is entring mournfully the Palace Gates;
And, as he passes, weeping all the way.

BRUTUS.
My Mind forbodes; speak, is my Portia well? Enter Messenger, who gives a Letter to Brutus.

MESSENGER.
She is, Sir.

BRUTUS.
Then I hope to bear the worst.

“My Duty forces me to send you News, (Reads.
“Which, tho' you needs must know, I grieve to write.
“Two hundred of the noblest Rank in Rome
“Proscrib'd, and murder'd: Cicero himself
“Giv'n up by false Octavius to his Foes.
Good Heav'ns! to whom do ye dispose Mankind? (Drops the Letter.
Sad Fate indeed; so great a Villany
Is most surprising, tho' 'tis done by them. (Weeps.

JUNIA.
Dismal indeed! but oh my dearest Brother,
Let not your tender Mind be too much touch'd;
Practise that Patience which you now taught me.
Cassius is absent, I am desolate,
Yet Rome (you said) must take up all my Thoughts.

BRUTUS.
And therefore 'tis for Rome I most lament,
At once depriv'd of her most worthy Sons!
Those Sons are to be envy'd, not bemoan'd;

Most noble Suff'rers in their Country's Cause!
Great Cicero lives still, shall live for ever;
While Men can read, or value Worth or Learning.
But Rome her self appears all pale before me,
Gushing out Tears, and wringing helpless Hands;
Rome, Rome has lost her best, her purest Blood! (Weeps again.

JUNIA.
Brutus, be cheer'd: her vital Parts remain;
In you and Cassius flows the Roman Spirit,
That still inspires whole Armies on her Side.

LUCILIUS.
'Tis nobly, truly said; and you bright Junia
Possess a Soul, tho' in a softer Frame,
Lofty enough to animate ev'n them.

BRUTUS.
She does, Lucilius; and were Portia here,
(But I alas shall never be so happy)
Cassius and I should be but Followers

Of them in the defence of Liberty
But oh, my Cicero! who speaks thy Praise,
Must have a Tongue like thine, beyond the Bounds
Of Roman Eloquence; and fit to fill
The Mouth of Fame with never-dying Sounds.

JUNIA.
How could Octavius consent to lose him,
The best, as well as wisest of his Friends?

BRUTUS.
Ambition over-eager, checks at nothing;
A goodly, but a dang'rous Bird of Prey;
Flies at all Game, and never to be tam'd,
She pecks, and tears the Hand on which she sits.
I often warn'd good Tully of his Danger;
But all in vain, when Heav'n will have it so.
He wish'd himself with us at Cæsar's Death,
And heartily, I doubt not; tho' his Foes
Suspected his too soft and tender Nature.

SCENE II. Enter some Lictors, bringing in Theodotus with them bound as a Prisoner.

LICTOR.
We have discovered here Theodotus,
Odious to all Mankind for Pompey's Death.

JUNIA.
What, he that made a formal Speech for Murder?
And with a Philosophick Gravity
Sanctify'd Mischief with a rev'rend Tongue?
The Orator wants Words in his own Cause.

BRUTUS.
Speak for thy self; that Justice thou shalt have.

THEODOTUS.
Had I not often own'd my Crime with Tears,
So self-condemn'd already; or if Brutus
Were not my Judge, the good, the faultless Brutus;
Black tho' I now appear, and all disfigur'd

With common Prejudice; yet I might give
Fair colour to this hated, foul Offence.
But who can stand the Test of strictest Justice?
Or how can words avail to sway the Wise?
This Wisdom and this Justice are in Brutus:
So much superior thou to other Men,
That at thy Judgment-seat, the greatest Art
Is useless to excuse the smallest Fault.

BRUTUS.
Say boldly all thou can'st.

THEODOTUS.
Else, I might say, 'tis hard to be condemn'd
For doing that, which if I had not done,
I might have justly been condemn'd by those
Who summon'd me to Council for their Safety.
I thought their Safety ask'd for Pompey's Death:
Oh that I could redeem it with my own!
Pompey was great, was good, was wise, was valiant,
But yet was vanquish'd by more happy Cæsar;

Who, had his Foe been spar'd, would soon have shewn
A real Rage, which now he but affected.
Could Egypt stop the Victor of Pharsalia?
All we could give was but a poor Reprieve,
A hardship worse than Death to Minds resolv'd.
Rome and her Liberty entirely lost,
Pompey would have disdain'd a Life precarious,
Which yet had cost our King and Country dear.
Would he had counsell'd, and would I had dy'd!
For he, who as a Roman, dy'd for Rome;
If born with us, would have advis'd for Egypt

JUNIA.
With all thy Guilt, how durst thou name great Pompey

THEODOTUS.
Ev'n he was guilty once, and slew your Father.
Yet, grant he was the bravest, best of Men,
Victorious often in the Cause of Rome,
While I was but a Counsellor for Egypt.
Since Fame rewards his Service to his Country,

Should I be punish'd for assisting mine?

BRUTUS.
If Words could change the nature of ill Deeds,
Thy Head would be indebted to thy Tongue,
Which, I must needs allow, has done its part,
And makes my tender Nature wish thee hence,
Out of my Reach, as well as Will, to punish.
But here I stand the Substitute of Rome;
Which with united Sighs bemoans her Pompey,
And weeping waits to have his Death reveng'd.
Thy worthless Prince and Country were too slight
A Sacrifice to Pompey! At his Feet
Cæsar himself was not too great to fall:
Think but on that, and thou wilt dye content. (Exeunt Lucilius and Officers with Theodotus.
'Twere barbarous to reason with a Wretch
Long since condemn'd to dye by Rome's Decree.
But he was no Egyptian, as he pleaded;
Nor subject to that Prince he so advis'd.

JUNIA.
What King or Country dares be so audacious
To hurt the meanest Senator of Rome?
How then durst any think of killing Pompey?

BRUTUS.
Presumptuous Wickedness! Pompey o'ercome,
Abandon'd by his Friends, a Fugitive,
At mercy of the meanest, basest Villain;
Yet in that lowest Ebb was much too high
For such a Prince as Ptolemy to reach.
From Ptolemy, prostrate at Pompey's Feet,
Not only Aid, but Reverence was due.
That Chief escaping, might have chang'd Rome's Fate;
And the whole World had been oblig'd to Egypt. SCENE III. Enter Lucilius.

LUCILIUS.
Base Villany is seldom at a stand,
But still proceeding on to greater Mischief:

From murd'ring Senators at Rome, they now
Lift their aspiring Treachery to Brutus.
The wise Athenians, watchful of your Safety,
Have newly seiz'd a Slave in foul Disguise;
Who on the Rack confesses all the Crime.
“Hie thee to Athens (said the base Octavius)
“And save thy Master, save us all, save Rome,
“Go purchase Fame and Freedom by a Blow:
“Our Foes are all united in that Brutus;
“He, he alone inspir'd the Death of Cæsar.
“Be desperate, be secret, and be rich.

BRUTUS.
I pity the poor Wretch; he knows no better.
At his Return, how would his Master grieve
To find me safer here, than he at Rome.
He does but shoot these Arrows in the Air.

LUCILIUS.
Except at Rome infected by our Foes,
Virtue like yours, is ev'ry where secure,

And claims the just Protection of Mankind.

JUNIA.
Your Life is so important,
Youths quit their Pleasures, Soldiers slight their Pay,
Ev'n Misers leave their Wealth to watch your Safety

BRUTUS.
Let go the Slave to tell Octavius this.

LUCILIUS.
What, save that Wretch?

BRUTUS.
Both save, and let him go.
In this Attempt he but obey'd his Master. (Exit Lucilius.
Oh that there were no Romans worse than he!
This Slave would kill; but 'tis to get his Freedom!
But ah! ev'n Senators are growing Slaves,
Careless of Honour, void of Honesty,
Forgetting all their noble Ancestors,
And ruining a glorious Commonwealth!

Enter Titinius and Lucilius again.

TITINIUS.
Cassius has sent me here with this Reply,
He wants that Gold himself, which you would borrow;
Of which, at meeting, you shall have account.
These Letters I have brought for noble Junia. (Junia goes out with the Letters.

LUCILIUS.
Your Legions then must stay till his are paid.

BRUTUS.
Think not the worst, Lucilius, e'er it comes.
At Sardis we shall meet by break of Day.
I'll take one Hour's repose, and then for Sardis.
Good Night to both.

LUCILIUS.
Rest to your noble Thoughts. (Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Brutus remains, laid on his Couch

BRUTUS.
'Tis but in vain, Sleep is not to be courted.
Sing, Boy, the Song that Portia likes so well,
And sooth my Thoughts with some melodious Sounds. (Soft Musick and Song.
Man is himself an Instrument of Musick;
But yet some String is always out of Tune,
And ev'ry Sound we make shews our Confusion.
Why should this Death of Cæsar trouble me?
I did it not for Anger, or Ambition;
But for mere Honesty, and Publick Good;
Nay, Good to him; for in my own Opinion,
'Tis better much to dye, than live unjustly
My Fellow Citizens, my Kindred, Friends,
All sunk at once beneath his rising Fortune.
And should I tamely suffer an Usurper

T'enslave Mankind, because he smiles on me?
Friendship indeed is the most tempting Bribe;
But Justice should be blind to all its Beauty.
And yet a Restlesness attends such Deeds,
Tho' ne'er so just: something that feels unwieldy,
That sits uneasy on a gentle Nature
I cannot sleep, unless I shake it off. SCENE V. Enter a Spirit in the Shape of Cæsar, full of Wounds.

Sure I sleep now, or else my Eyes delude me:
I know 'tis Fancy all; and yet I stagger;
Ha, it comes on. What art thou? When alive,
Tho' arm'd with Pow'r, adorn'd with Fame and Greatness,
I fear'd thee not, because thou wert unjust;
But, more than human now, thou seem'st above me!
Speak, unknown Being! I conjure thee, speak.

SPIRIT.
I am thy Evil Genius, Marcus Brutus,
And have assum'd this Shape, to give thee Terror.

BRUTUS.
Terror? How cam'st thou to know Me no better?
Sure thou art ignorant, as well as evil.

SPIRIT.
Is Murder then no Crime?

BRUTUS.
Killing is none;
When done not for our selves, but for our Country?

SPIRIT.
Not for your self indeed; you stab'd your Friend.

BRUTUS.
Friend? Oh, thou touchest now my tender part!
Oh, name that word no more!

SPIRIT.
A Friend! a Friend!

BRUTUS.
But what's a Friend, compar'd with Publick Good?
Convince me, if thou can'st: Oh, teach me Truth!
And shew me but one glimpse of future Being,
Of which we talk so much, yet know so little!
Dispel these Mists that muffle poor Mankind,
And open to me all that glorious Scene!
Shew me where Virtue smiles, and sits enthron'd,
And where Morality finds just Reward;
'Tis sure, above: for ill Men prosper here.

SPIRIT.
Soon at Philippi thou shalt know it all.

BRUTUS.
Shall we then meet again?

SPIRIT.
Yes, at Philippi.

BRUTUS.
I'll meet thee there. I'll meet thee any where. (Exit Spirit.

Now I am resolute, the Shadow flies,
And vanishes together with my Fear.
What hoa!

Enter Boy.
My Lord;

BRUTUS.
Did you see nothing?

BOY.
No.

BRUTUS.
Nor hear me speak?

BOY.
Nothing at all, my Lord.

BRUTUS.
Let every thing be ready for our March;
And call me up, be sure, by break of Day.
Till then I'll sleep within. (Exeunt.

Third CHORUS. Of Roman Senators.

I.
Dark is the Maze poor Mortals tread;
  Wisdom it self a Guide will need:
We little thought when Cæsar bled,
  That a worse Cæsar would succeed.
And are we under such a Curse,
We cannot change, but for the worse?

II.
With fair Pretence of Foreign Force,
  By which Rome must her self enthrall;
These, without Blushes or Remorse,
  Proscribe the best, impov'rish all.
The Gauls themselves, our greatest Foes
Could act no Mischiefs worse than those.

III.
That Julius, with ambitious Thoughts,
  Had Virtues too, his Foes could find;
These equal him in all his Faults,
  But never in his noble Mind.
That Free-born Spirits shou'd obey
Wretches, who know not how to sway!

IV
Late we repent our hasty Choice,
  In vain bemoan so quick a Turn.
Heark all to Rome's united Voice!
  Better that we a while had born
Ev'n all those Ills which most displease,
Than sought a Cure far worse than the Disease.

ACT IV. SCENE I. A Field near Philippi, where Cassius and Brutus made the Rendezvous of their Armies. Enter Brutus and Officers.

BRUTUS.
'Tis here that I and Cassius were to join:
What say our Scouts? Is any Army near?

OFFICER.
The rising Dust discovers their Approach;
And some, impatient of so slow a March,
Are just arriv'd before to meet their Friends. Enter Lucilius.

BRUTUS.
O, here's Lucilius, whom I sent to Cassius.

LUCILIUS.
Cassius, my Lord, salutes the noble Brutus.
And hastens to embrace him.

BRUTUS.
O Lucilius!
Cassius is alter'd much, or ill advis'd;
Has, I am loth to say it, done some things
Which do not well become so great a Man.
But, since he is so near, I'll stay my Censure,
And wish to find my Jealousy mistaken.
But, good Lucilius, how did he receive you,
When you brought friendly notice I was near?

LUCILIUS.
With Forms, and Complements, and great Respect,
Out-doing Enemies in Ceremony;
But no Familiarity betwixt us;
None of that free and friendly Conference
Which we have us'd of old: and when he nam'd you,
'Twas always with such set, affected Praise,

As if the Commendation had no meanin
But to be told again.

BRUTUS.
I am afraid
Thou judgest but too right: Nothing is nobler
Than Friendship, till it once begins to fail;
But then asham'd, and conscious of Defect,
It hides itself in Complement and Care:
At the first shock, off falls the frail Disguise;
Falshood is foolish, and betrays it self.
There is no Art in plain and friendly Truth,
Which like the Sun shines forth by its own Light.
Violent Minds sometimes make glorious shew,
Like Gilding shine, equal to real Gold,
But in the usage, how much difference!
Hark! he's arriv'd; march gently on to meet him.

SCENE II. Enter Cassius, &c.

CASSIUS.
Embracing thus is but a thing of Form,
For 'tis not fit that both our Armies here
Should once suspect the least Dispute between us.

BRUTUS.
The common Cause indeed requires our Care,
And all our Discontents should yield to that.

CASSIUS.
Brutus, let us retire into my Tent,
Lest here by chance some unbecoming word
Break out too loud.

BRUTUS.
Are we so little Masters of our selves?
How can we then be fit to govern Armies?

CASSIUS.
You think your self above those common Frailties.

BRUTUS.
The Stoics are above unruly Passion.
But, since you would retire, I am content
My Soldiers may remove beyond those Fields.
Lucilius, march a little off this Ground.
Let your Men do the like, under pretence
Of our conferring about great Affairs;
Indeed our greatest; for a Home-dispute
Is of more consequence than foreign Dangers.

CASSIUS.
Titinius, let my Forces move away
To yonder Plain, and leave us all alone,
'Tis necessary we should be in private. (Exeunt all, except Brutus and Cassius.

SCENE III.

CASSIUS.
You ask'd me fifty Talents for your Legions,
And in a Style as to your Treasurer,
As if I should prefer your's to my own
Am I to be impos'd on thus by you?

BRUTUS.
Sure Cassius little knows the force of Friendship?
Writing so freely shew'd my Trust and Kindness.
He that desires a Favour from a Friend,
Does him the greatest in desiring it.

CASSIUS.
Come, I must tell you, over-great Applause
Lifts you too high. Should I, who kill'd ev'n Cæsar,
Only for his excessive Power and Pride,
Should I at last submit thus to another?
From a Superiour my Stars defend me

BRUTUS.
From a Superiour? you little know me:
I scarce would be Superiour to my Slaves,
Except in Virtue; that is worthy Pride.

CASSIUS.
Then think not Sir, of being above me.

BRUTUS.
I wish I were not, by these weak Suspicions.
What, jealous of a Friend? it moves my Pity.

CASSIUS.
Pity? I scorn it.

BRUTUS.
Scorn your Rage that moves it.
My Pity is not, ought not, to be slighted:
'Tis like the kind Compassion of a Parent,
Full of Concern, and free from all Contempt,
Rather deserves your Thanks than your Reproach.

CASSIUS.
My Thanks? for what? for domineering o'er me?

BRUTUS.
Yet Reason has some right to govern Passion.

CASSIUS.
Brutus, you have an over-ruling way,
Which, under colour of a patient Calmness,
Expects Complyance with your gentle Temper.
But I see through it.

BRUTUS.
See? your Passion blinds you.

CASSIUS.
You have no Passion, yet provoke another's.

BRUTUS.
Is it provoking to inform a Brother
Of Faults no other dares presume to tell him,
And yet most necessary he should know?
Your Troops have done most dismal Outrages;
Forc'd harmless Wretches from their native Homes,
Slighted the Widows and the Orphans Tears,
Gather'd their last Remains with greedy Gripe;

That which poor Swains had labour'd for whole Years,
Is in one Moment plunder'd by your Soldiers.
This sinks our Cause, which rose at first so glorious.
Shall we, who soar'd so high in Reputation,
And open'd ev'ry Mouth in our just Praises,
Now on a sudden fall to dire Oppression?
Shall we at last pull down with our own Hands
That lofty Fabrick of well-founded Honour?

CASSIUS.
Am I to answer for it?

BRUTUS.
With your Fame;
That stands expos'd to ev'ry just Man's Censure.

CASSIUS.
Go on no more, I will no longer bear it.

BRUTUS.
By Heav'n you shall hear all; then do your worst.
Dare I not say whatever you dare act?
Am I not equally concern'd with you

In this great War for Freedom of our Country?
Yet must not tell whatever hurts our Cause?

CASSIUS.
Tempt me no farther, Sir, you may repent it.

BRUTUS.
Tempt not you me with all your furious Looks:
I am above your Threats, and can look down
Both on your self and them.

CASSIUS.
Were it not for the Cause we have in hand,
I would not bear this heap of Injuries.

BRUTUS.
I injure? where is that unlucky Man
Who can with reason make Complaint of me?
If any, I'll acknowledge it with Shame.
The Man who wrongs his meanest Adversary,
Exalts his Enemy above himself.
And can you think that I could injure Cassius,
My Brother, and my Friend?

CASSIUS.
If hearing Lyes
With greedy Ears, and soon believing them;
If misinterpreting whate'er I do,
And representing things in foulest Colours,
Can be call'd wronging, who was e'er so wrong'd?

BRUTUS.
If I have said one word that sounds unkindly,
My Tongue has slipp'd, and quite deceiv'd my Heart,
That melts like Wax before your hottest Anger.
Behold my Tears for having so much vex'd you.

CASSIUS.
What says my Brutus? speak that word again,
Am I not then so full, so full of Faults?

BRUTUS.
It was my Frailty to presume so much.

CASSIUS.
And mine to be suspicious of my Brutus.
All shall be mended.

BRUTUS.
But can you forgive
Too sharp Expressions, tho' with kind intent?

CASSIUS.
So kind intent, I own the Obligation.
No Man but Brutus durst have spoke so boldly;
No Man but Brutus would have spoke so kindly.

BRUTUS.
Oh Cassius, nothing but the tendrest Friendship,
And when I thought it for the Publick Good,
Could have embolden'd me to censure you.

CASSIUS.
Embrace me close, and witness how my Heart
Leaps up transported with this sudden Change!

BRUTUS.
It was an eager Argument indeed,
But ends as it should do between such Friends,
Resenting nothing but their Country's Wrongs.
Methinks good Spirits hov'ring all around us,

Should to the World proclaim our happy Union,
Now, while our Enemies combine in Mischief.
Thus firmly join'd, we'll first be Conquerors,
Then make all Rome contented as our selves. SCENE IV. Enter Lucilius and Titinius.

CASSIUS.
Come in Lucilius, welcome good Titinius.
Let us consult of our Necessities,
And manage well this last important Stake.

BRUTUS.
The State is thus at Rome: My Letter mentions
Full fifty Senators, with thousands more,
Newly proscrib'd; and Cicero is one.

CASSIUS.
Cicero one? that talking Friend of Cæsar?

Octavius has well paid him for his pains;
May ill Men ever use each other so.

BRUTUS.
Oh gently censure ev'n a Foe when dead.
See, Cassius, here the Curse of over-caution.
The wary Walker who mistrusts too much,
Treads not so firm, but faintly, and so stumbles:
Thus Tully fell, by too much fear of falling.

CASSIUS.
But Antony, and young Octavius
Are marching hither with a mighty Force:
The useless Lepidus is left at Rome.

BRUTUS.
The question is, whether we had not best
Haste on, with Anger bent against our Foes,
Rather than tamely wait their bold Assault.

CASSIUS.
I am for staying here: my Reason this.
So long a March must weary out our Strength,

Which Rest will give us here. Let them come on,
And tir'd with Toil expose their bending Bodies
Under our lusty Arms, vig'rous and fresh:
Besides, in this we take the stoutest part;
For, resolute expecting certain Danger
Shews the most settled Courage; while the Coward
Runs often fiercely on, to shun his Fear,
And swallow down in haste the bitter Draught.

BRUTUS.
Some Reasons have a strange fallacious Force;
Just as the pleasing Colours us'd by Artists
Delude the very Sight. But in my Judgment,
It tires our Army more to tarry here.
Opinion is the Soul of every Action;
Keep but that up, that keeps up all the rest:
And 'tis maintain'd by marks of Resolution,
By rushing on the Foe, forcing to fight,
Not lingring here behind with slacken'd Vigour.
We must depend upon our Zeal and Cause,

And therefore in hot Blood shall do it best.
If once we cool, their surer Discipline
Will soon prevail against our new-rais'd Force.
The Hearts of all our Soldiers now are set
On fierce encountring, all their Rage inflam'd;
There's nothing wanting but to draw their Swords,
And down goes Tyranny, to rise no more.
Can we sit still, and pause with such a Thought?
So near a glorious Deed there's no Repose:
Impatience makes unquiet Expectation,
And eager Nature can allow no Rest.

CASSIUS.
You shall prevail; we'll let 'em but refresh,
And then we'll charge the Foe.

BRUTUS.
Let us embrace; and, O my dearest Brother,
This Quarrel shall but make us better Friends.

Fourth CHORUS. Of Roman Soldiers.
Our Vows thus chearfully we sing,
  While martial Musick fires our Blood
Let all the neighb'ring Echoes ring
  With Clamours for our Country's Good:
And, for Reward, of the just Gods we claim
A Life with Freedom, or a Death with Fame.
May Rome be freed from War's Alarms,
  And Taxes heavy to be born;
May she beware of foreign Arms,
  And send them back with noble Scorn:
And, for Reward, &c.

May she no more confide in Friends,
  Who nothing farther understood,
Than only, for their private ends,
  To waste her Wealth, and spill her Blood.
And, for Reward, &c.
Our Senators great Jove restrain
  From private Piques, they Prudence call;
From the low Thoughts of little Gain,
  And hazarding the losing all.
And, for Reward, &c.
The shining Arms with haste prepare,
  Then to the glorious Combat fly;
Our Minds unclog'd with farther Care,
  Except to overcome, or dye.
And, for Reward, &c.

They fight, Oppression to increase;
  We, for our Liberties and Laws:
It were a Sin to doubt Success,
  When Freedom is the noble Cause.
And, for Reward, of the just Gods we claim
A Life with Freedom, or a Death with Fame.