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.