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twg_000000020800 | ye gods, ye gods! Must I endure all this? BRUTUS. All this? ay, more: fret till your proud heart break; Go show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020801 | Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, Ill use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish. CASSIUS. Is it come to this? BRUTUS. You say you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020802 | to learn of noble men. CASSIUS. You wrong me every way, you wrong me, Brutus. I said, an elder soldier, not a better: Did I say better? BRUTUS. If you did, I care not. CASSIUS. When Caesar livd, he durst not thus have movd me. BRUTUS. Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him. CASSIUS. I durst not? BRUTUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020803 | No. CASSIUS. What? durst not tempt him? BRUTUS. For your life you durst not. CASSIUS. Do not presume too much upon my love. I may do that I shall be sorry for. BRUTUS. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am armd so strong in honesty, That they | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020804 | pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; For I can raise no money by vile means: By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020805 | By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius? Should I have answerd Caius Cassius so? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, Dash him to pieces! CASSIUS. I denied you not. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020806 | BRUTUS. You did. CASSIUS. I did not. He was but a fool That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rivd my heart. A friend should bear his friends infirmities; But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. BRUTUS. I do not, till you practise them on me. CASSIUS. You love me not. BRUTUS. I do not like your faults. CASSIUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020807 | A friendly eye could never see such faults. BRUTUS. A flatterers would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus. CASSIUS. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is a-weary of the world: Hated by one he loves; bravd by his brother; Checkd like a bondman; all his faults observd, Set in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020808 | a note-book, learnd and connd by rote, To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus mine, richer than gold: If that thou best a Roman, take it forth. I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020809 | thou didst at Caesar; for I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better Than ever thou lovedst Cassius. BRUTUS. Sheathe your dagger. Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour. O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire, Who, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020810 | much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again. CASSIUS. Hath Cassius livd To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief and blood ill-temperd vexeth him? BRUTUS. When I spoke that, I was ill-temperd too. CASSIUS. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand. BRUTUS. And my heart too. CASSIUS. O Brutus! BRUTUS. Whats | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020811 | the matter? CASSIUS. Have not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful? BRUTUS. Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, Hell think your mother chides, and leave you so. Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius and Lucius. POET. [_Within._] Let me go in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020812 | to see the generals, There is some grudge between em; tis not meet They be alone. LUCILIUS. [_Within._] You shall not come to them. POET. [_Within._] Nothing but death shall stay me. CASSIUS. How now! Whats the matter? POET. For shame, you generals! What do you mean? Love, and be friends, as two such men should be; For I have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020813 | seen more years, Im sure, than ye. CASSIUS. Ha, ha! How vilely doth this cynic rhyme! BRUTUS. Get you hence, sirrah. Saucy fellow, hence! CASSIUS. Bear with him, Brutus; tis his fashion. BRUTUS. Ill know his humour when he knows his time. What should the wars do with these jigging fools? Companion, hence! CASSIUS. Away, away, be gone! [_Exit Poet._] | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020814 | BRUTUS. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies tonight. CASSIUS. And come yourselves and bring Messala with you Immediately to us. [_Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius._] BRUTUS. Lucius, a bowl of wine. [_Exit Lucius._] CASSIUS. I did not think you could have been so angry. BRUTUS. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs. CASSIUS. Of your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020815 | philosophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils. BRUTUS. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead. CASSIUS. Ha? Portia? BRUTUS. She is dead. CASSIUS. How scapd I killing, when I crossd you so? O insupportable and touching loss! Upon what sickness? BRUTUS. Impatient of my absence, And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020816 | made themselves so strong; for with her death That tidings came. With this she fell distract, And, her attendants absent, swallowd fire. CASSIUS. And died so? BRUTUS. Even so. CASSIUS. O ye immortal gods! Enter Lucius, with wine and a taper. BRUTUS. Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine. In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020817 | [_Drinks._] CASSIUS. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. Fill, Lucius, till the wine oerswell the cup. I cannot drink too much of Brutus love. [_Drinks._] [_Exit Lucius._] Enter Titinius and Messala. BRUTUS. Come in, Titinius! Welcome, good Messala. Now sit we close about this taper here, And call in question our necessities. CASSIUS. Portia, art thou gone? BRUTUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020818 | No more, I pray you. Messala, I have here received letters, That young Octavius and Mark Antony Come down upon us with a mighty power, Bending their expedition toward Philippi. MESSALA. Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor. BRUTUS. With what addition? MESSALA. That by proscription and bills of outlawry Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus Have put to death an hundred | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020819 | Senators. BRUTUS. Therein our letters do not well agree. Mine speak of seventy Senators that died By their proscriptions, Cicero being one. CASSIUS. Cicero one! MESSALA. Cicero is dead, And by that order of proscription. Had you your letters from your wife, my lord? BRUTUS. No, Messala. MESSALA. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her? BRUTUS. Nothing, Messala. MESSALA. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020820 | That, methinks, is strange. BRUTUS. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours? MESSALA. No, my lord. BRUTUS. Now as you are a Roman, tell me true. MESSALA. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell, For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. BRUTUS. Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala. With meditating that she | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020821 | must die once, I have the patience to endure it now. MESSALA. Even so great men great losses should endure. CASSIUS. I have as much of this in art as you, But yet my nature could not bear it so. BRUTUS. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently? CASSIUS. I do not think | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020822 | it good. BRUTUS. Your reason? CASSIUS. 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. BRUTUS. Good reasons must of force give place to better. The people twixt Philippi and this ground Do stand but in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020823 | a forced affection; For they have grudgd us contribution. The enemy, marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number up, Come on refreshd, new-added, and encouragd; From which advantage shall we cut him off If at Philippi we do face him there, These people at our back. CASSIUS. Hear me, good brother. BRUTUS. Under your pardon. You | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020824 | must note besides, That we have tried the utmost of our friends, Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe. The enemy increaseth 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020825 | in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat, And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. CASSIUS. Then, with your will, go on: Well along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi. BRUTUS. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And nature must obey necessity, Which we will | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020826 | niggard with a little rest. There is no more to say? CASSIUS. No more. Good night: Early tomorrow will we rise, and hence. Enter Lucius. BRUTUS. Lucius! My gown. [_Exit Lucius._] Farewell now, good Messala. Good night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose. CASSIUS. O my dear brother! This was an ill beginning of the night. Never | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020827 | come such division tween our souls! Let it not, Brutus. Enter Lucius with the gown. BRUTUS. Everything is well. CASSIUS. Good night, my lord. BRUTUS. Good night, good brother. TITINIUS and MESSALA. Good night, Lord Brutus. BRUTUS. Farewell, everyone. [_Exeunt Cassius, Titinius and Messala._] Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument? LUCIUS. Here in the tent. BRUTUS. What, thou | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020828 | speakst drowsily? Poor knave, I blame thee not, thou art oer-watchd. Call Claudius and some other of my men; Ill have them sleep on cushions in my tent. LUCIUS. Varro and Claudius! Enter Varro and Claudius. VARRO. Calls my lord? BRUTUS. I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep; It may be I shall raise you by-and-by On | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020829 | business to my brother Cassius. VARRO. So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure. BRUTUS. I will not have it so; lie down, good sirs, It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. Look, Lucius, heres the sought for so; I put it in the pocket of my gown. [_Servants lie down._] LUCIUS. I was sure your lordship | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020830 | did not give it me. BRUTUS. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, And touch thy instrument a strain or two? LUCIUS. Ay, my lord, ant please you. BRUTUS. It does, my boy. I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. LUCIUS. It is my duty, sir. BRUTUS. I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020831 | should not urge thy duty past thy might; I know young bloods look for a time of rest. LUCIUS. I have slept, my lord, already. BRUTUS. It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again; I will not hold thee long. If I do live, I will be good to thee. [_Lucius plays and sings till he falls asleep._] This | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020832 | is a sleepy tune. O murdrous slumber, Layest thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night; I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee. If thou dost nod, thou breakst thy instrument; Ill take it from thee; and, good boy, good night. Let me see, let me see; is not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020833 | the leaf turnd down Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. Enter the Ghost of Caesar. How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. It comes upon me. Art thou anything? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That makst my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020834 | blood cold and my hair to stare? Speak to me what thou art. GHOST. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. BRUTUS. Why comst thou? GHOST. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. BRUTUS. Well; then I shall see thee again? GHOST. Ay, at Philippi. BRUTUS. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then. [_Ghost vanishes._] Now I have taken heart, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020835 | thou vanishest. Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. Boy! Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! Claudius! LUCIUS. The strings, my lord, are false. BRUTUS. He thinks he still is at his instrument. Lucius, awake! LUCIUS. My lord? BRUTUS. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out? LUCIUS. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020836 | BRUTUS. Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything? LUCIUS. Nothing, my lord. BRUTUS. Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudius! Fellow thou, awake! VARRO. My lord? CLAUDIUS. My lord? BRUTUS. Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep? VARRO. CLAUDIUS. Did we, my lord? BRUTUS. Ay. Saw you anything? VARRO. No, my lord, I saw nothing. CLAUDIUS. Nor I, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020837 | my lord. BRUTUS. Go and commend me to my brother Cassius; Bid him set on his powers betimes before, And we will follow. VARRO. CLAUDIUS. It shall be done, my lord. [_Exeunt._] ACT V SCENE I. The plains of Philippi. Enter Octavius, Antony and their Army. OCTAVIUS. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered. You said the enemy would not come | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020838 | 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. ANTONY. Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know Wherefore they do it. They could be content To visit other places, and come down With fearful bravery, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020839 | thinking by this face To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage; But tis not so. Enter a Messenger. MESSENGER. Prepare you, generals. The enemy comes on in gallant show; Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, And something to be done immediately. ANTONY. Octavius, lead your battle softly on Upon the left hand of the even field. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020840 | OCTAVIUS. Upon the right hand I. Keep thou the left. ANTONY. Why do you cross me in this exigent? OCTAVIUS. I do not cross you; but I will do so. [_March._] Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius and their Army; Lucilius, Titinius, Messala and others. BRUTUS. They stand, and would have parley. CASSIUS. Stand fast, Titinius; we must out and talk. OCTAVIUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020841 | Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle? ANTONY. No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge. Make forth; the generals would have some words. OCTAVIUS. Stir not until the signal. BRUTUS. Words before blows: is it so, countrymen? OCTAVIUS. Not that we love words better, as you do. BRUTUS. Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius. ANTONY. In | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020842 | your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words; Witness the hole you made in Caesars heart, Crying, Long live! Hail, Caesar! CASSIUS. Antony, The posture of your blows are yet unknown; But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless. ANTONY. Not stingless too. BRUTUS. O yes, and soundless too, For you have stoln their buzzing, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020843 | Antony, And very wisely threat before you sting. ANTONY. Villains, you did not so when your vile daggers Hackd one another in the sides of Caesar: You showd your teeth like apes, and fawnd like hounds, And bowd like bondmen, kissing Caesars feet; Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers! CASSIUS. Flatterers! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020844 | Now, Brutus, thank yourself. This tongue had not offended so today, If Cassius might have ruld. OCTAVIUS. Come, come, the cause. If arguing makes us sweat, The proof of it will turn to redder drops. Look, I draw a sword against conspirators. When think you that the sword goes up again? Never, till Caesars three and thirty wounds Be well | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020845 | avengd; or till another Caesar Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. BRUTUS. Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors hands, Unless thou bringst them with thee. OCTAVIUS. So I hope. I was not born to die on Brutus sword. BRUTUS. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable. CASSIUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020846 | A peevish school-boy, worthless of such honour, Joind with a masker and a reveller. ANTONY. Old Cassius still! OCTAVIUS. Come, Antony; away! Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth. If you dare fight today, come to the field; If not, when you have stomachs. [_Exeunt Octavius, Antony and their Army._] CASSIUS. Why now, blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020847 | The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. BRUTUS. Ho, Lucilius! Hark, a word with you. LUCILIUS. My lord? [_Brutus and Lucilius talk apart._] CASSIUS. Messala. MESSALA. What says my General? CASSIUS. Messala, This is my birth-day; as this very day Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala: Be thou my witness that against my will As | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020848 | Pompey was, am I compelld to set Upon one battle all our liberties. You know that I held Epicurus strong, And his opinion. Now I change my mind, And partly credit things that do presage. Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perchd, Gorging and feeding from our soldiers hands, Who to Philippi | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020849 | here consorted us. This morning are they fled away and gone, And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites Fly oer our heads, and downward look on us, As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem A canopy most fatal, under which Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost. MESSALA. Believe not so. CASSIUS. I but believe | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020850 | it partly, For I am fresh of spirit, and resolvd To meet all perils very constantly. BRUTUS. Even so, Lucilius. CASSIUS. Now, most noble Brutus, The gods today stand friendly, that we may, Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age! But, since the affairs of men rest still incertain, Lets reason with the worst that may befall. If | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020851 | we do lose this battle, then is this The very last time we shall speak together: What are you then determined to do? BRUTUS. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020852 | 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. CASSIUS. Then, if we lose this battle, You are contented to be led in triumph Thorough the streets of Rome? BRUTUS. No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble Roman, That ever Brutus will go | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020853 | 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 farewell take. For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius. If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020854 | made. CASSIUS. For ever and for ever farewell, Brutus. If we do meet again, well smile indeed; If not, tis true this parting was well made. BRUTUS. Why then, lead on. O, that a man might know The end of this days business ere it come! But it sufficeth that the day will end, And then the end is known. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020855 | Come, ho! away! [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. The same. The field of battle. Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala. BRUTUS. Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills Unto the legions on the other side. [_Loud alarum._] Let them set on at once; for I perceive But cold demeanor in Octavius wing, And sudden push gives them the overthrow. Ride, ride, Messala; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020856 | let them all come down. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. Another part of the field. Alarum. Enter Cassius and Titinius. CASSIUS. O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly! Myself have to mine own turnd enemy: This ensign here of mine was turning back; I slew the coward, and did take it from him. TITINIUS. O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020857 | Who, having some advantage on Octavius, Took it too eagerly: his soldiers fell to spoil, Whilst we by Antony are all enclosd. Enter Pindarus. PINDARUS. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off; Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord. Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off. CASSIUS. This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius; Are those my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020858 | tents where I perceive the fire? TITINIUS. They are, my lord. CASSIUS. Titinius, if thou lovest 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 assurd Whether yond troops are friend or enemy. TITINIUS. I will be here again, even with a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020859 | thought. [_Exit._] CASSIUS. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill, My sight was ever thick. Regard Titinius, And tell me what thou notest about the field. [_Pindarus goes up._] This day I breathed first. Time is come round, And where I did begin, there shall I end. My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news? PINDARUS. [_Above._] O my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020860 | lord! CASSIUS. What news? PINDARUS. [_Above._] Titinius is enclosed round about With horsemen, that make to him on the spur, Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him. Now, Titinius! Now some light. O, he lights too. Hes taen! [_Shout._] And, hark! they shout for joy. CASSIUS. Come down; behold no more. O, coward that I am, to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020861 | live so long, To see my best friend taen before my face! [_Pindarus descends._] 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020862 | through Caesars bowels, search this bosom. Stand not to answer. Here, take thou the hilts; And when my face is coverd, as tis now, Guide thou the sword.Caesar, thou art revengd, Even with the sword that killd thee. [_Dies._] PINDARUS. So, I am free, yet would not so have been, Durst I have done my will. O Cassius! Far from | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020863 | this country Pindarus shall run, Where never Roman shall take note of him. [_Exit._] Enter Titinius with Messala. MESSALA. It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius Is overthrown by noble Brutus power, As Cassius legions are by Antony. TITINIUS. These tidings would well comfort Cassius. MESSALA. Where did you leave him? TITINIUS. All disconsolate, With Pindarus his bondman, on this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020864 | hill. MESSALA. Is not that he that lies upon the ground? TITINIUS. He lies not like the living. O my heart! MESSALA. Is not that he? TITINIUS. No, this was he, Messala, But Cassius is no more. O setting sun, As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night, So in his red blood Cassius day is set. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020865 | 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. MESSALA. Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. O hateful Error, Melancholys child! Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O Error, soon conceivd, Thou | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020866 | never comst unto a happy birth, But killst the mother that engenderd thee! TITINIUS. What, Pindarus! where art thou, Pindarus? MESSALA. Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet The noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his ears. I may say thrusting it; For piercing steel and darts envenomed Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus As tidings | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020867 | of this sight. TITINIUS. Hie you, Messala, And I will seek for Pindarus the while. [_Exit Messala._] 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 misconstrued everything! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020868 | 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 Romans part. Come, Cassius sword, and find Titinius heart. [_Dies._] Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius and Lucilius. BRUTUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020869 | Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie? MESSALA. Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it. BRUTUS. Titinius face is upward. CATO. He is slain. BRUTUS. O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet! Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords In our own proper entrails. [_Low alarums._] CATO. Brave Titinius! Look whether he have not crownd dead Cassius! BRUTUS. Are yet | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020870 | two Romans living such as these? The 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. I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time. Come therefore, and to Thassos send his body. His funerals shall | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020871 | not be in our camp, Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come; And come, young Cato; let us to the field. Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on. Tis three oclock; and Romans, yet ere night We shall try fortune in a second fight. [_Exeunt._] SCENE IV. Another part of the field. Alarum. Enter fighting soldiers of both armies; then Brutus, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020872 | Messala, young Cato, Lucilius, Flavius and others. BRUTUS. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads! CATO. What bastard doth not? Who will go with me? I will proclaim my name about the field. I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! A foe to tyrants, and my countrys friend. I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! [_Charges the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020873 | enemy._] LUCILIUS. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I; Brutus, my countrys friend; know me for Brutus! [_Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is overpowered, and falls._] LUCILIUS. O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius, And mayst be honourd, being Catos son. FIRST SOLDIER. Yield, or thou diest. LUCILIUS. Only I yield | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020874 | to die: There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight; [_Offering money_] Kill Brutus, and be honourd in his death. FIRST SOLDIER. We must not. A noble prisoner! SECOND SOLDIER. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is taen. FIRST SOLDIER. Ill tell the news. Here comes the General. Enter Antony. Brutus is taen, Brutus is taen, my lord. ANTONY. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020875 | Where is he? LUCILIUS. 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. ANTONY. This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020876 | 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 whether Brutus be alive or dead; And bring us word unto Octavius tent How everything is chancd. [_Exeunt._] SCENE V. Another part of the field. Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato and Volumnius. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020877 | BRUTUS. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. CLITUS. Statilius showd the torch-light; but, my lord, He came not back: he is or taen or slain. BRUTUS. Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word; It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. [_Whispering._] CLITUS. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world. BRUTUS. Peace | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020878 | then, no words. CLITUS. Ill rather kill myself. BRUTUS. Hark thee, Dardanius. [_Whispers him._] DARDANIUS. Shall I do such a deed? CLITUS. O Dardanius! DARDANIUS. O Clitus! CLITUS. What ill request did Brutus make to thee? DARDANIUS. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates. CLITUS. Now is that noble vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020879 | eyes. BRUTUS. Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word. VOLUMNIUS. What says my lord? BRUTUS. Why, this, Volumnius: The ghost of Caesar hath appeard to me Two several times by night; at Sardis once, And this last night here in Philippi fields. I know my hour is come. VOLUMNIUS. Not so, my lord. BRUTUS. Nay I am sure it is, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020880 | Volumnius. Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit. [_Low alarums._] It is more worthy to leap in ourselves Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou knowst that we two went to school together; Even for that our love of old, I prythee Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020881 | on it. VOLUMNIUS. Thats not an office for a friend, my lord. [_Alarums still._] CLITUS. Fly, fly, my lord! there is no tarrying here. BRUTUS. Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius. Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; Farewell to thee too, Strato.Countrymen, My heart doth joy, that yet in all my life I found no man | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020882 | but he was true to me. I shall have glory by this losing day More than Octavius and Mark Antony By this vile conquest shall attain unto. So fare you well at once; for Brutus tongue Hath almost ended his lifes history. Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, That have but labourd to attain this hour. [_Alarums. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020883 | Cry within, Fly, fly, fly!._] CLITUS. Fly, my lord, fly! BRUTUS. Hence! I will follow. [_Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius and Volumnius._] I prythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord. Thou art a fellow of a good respect; Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it. Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020884 | it. Wilt thou, Strato? STRATO. Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord. BRUTUS. Farewell, good Strato.Caesar, now be still: I killd not thee with half so good a will. [_He runs on his sword, and dies._] Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala, Lucilius and the Army. OCTAVIUS. What man is that? MESSALA. My masters man. Strato, where | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020885 | is thy master? STRATO. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala. The conquerors can but make a fire of him; For Brutus only overcame himself, And no man else hath honour by his death. LUCILIUS. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast provd Lucilius saying true. OCTAVIUS. All that servd Brutus, I will entertain | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020886 | them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? STRATO. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you. OCTAVIUS. Do so, good Messala. MESSALA. How died my master, Strato? STRATO. I held the sword, and he did run on it. MESSALA. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master. ANTONY. This was the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020887 | noblest Roman of them all. All the conspirators save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He only, in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elements So mixd in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, This was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020888 | a man! OCTAVIUS. According to his virtue let us use him With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie, Most like a soldier, orderd honourably. So call the field to rest, and lets away, To part the glories of this happy day. [_Exeunt._] THE TRAGEDY OF KING LEAR Contents ACT I Scene I. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020889 | A Room of State in King Lears Palace Scene II. A Hall in the Earl of Gloucesters Castle Scene III. A Room in the Duke of Albanys Palace Scene IV. A Hall in Albanys Palace Scene V. Court before the Duke of Albanys Palace ACT II Scene I. A court within the Castle of the Earl of Gloucester Scene II. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020890 | Before Gloucesters Castle Scene III. The open Country Scene IV. Before Gloucesters Castle ACT III Scene I. A Heath Scene II. Another part of the heath Scene III. A Room in Gloucesters Castle Scene IV. A part of the Heath with a Hovel Scene V. A Room in Gloucesters Castle Scene VI. A Chamber in a Farmhouse adjoining the Castle | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020891 | Scene VII. A Room in Gloucesters Castle ACT IV Scene I. The heath Scene II. Before the Duke of Albanys Palace Scene III. The French camp near Dover Scene IV. The French camp. A Tent Scene V. A Room in Gloucesters Castle Scene VI. The country near Dover Scene VII. A Tent in the French Camp ACT V Scene I. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020892 | The Camp of the British Forces near Dover Scene II. A field between the two Camps Scene III. The British Camp near Dover Dramatis Person LEAR, King of Britain. GONERIL, eldest daughter to Lear. REGAN, second daughter to Lear. CORDELIA, youngest daughter to Lear. DUKE of ALBANY, married to Goneril. DUKE of CORNWALL, married to Regan. KING of FRANCE. DUKE | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020893 | of BURGUNDY. EARL of GLOUCESTER. EDGAR, elder son to Gloucester. EDMUND, younger bastard son to Gloucester. EARL of KENT. FOOL. OSWALD, steward to Goneril. CURAN, a Courtier. OLD MAN, Tenant to Gloucester. Physician. An Officer employed by Edmund. Gentleman, attendant on Cordelia. A Herald. Servants to Cornwall. Knights attending on the King, Officers, Messengers, Soldiers and Attendants. SCENE: Britain ACT | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020894 | I SCENE I. A Room of State in King Lears Palace Enter Kent, Gloucester and Edmund. KENT. I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall. GLOUCESTER. It did always seem so to us; but now, in the division of the kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values most, for qualities are so | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020895 | weighed that curiosity in neither can make choice of eithers moiety. KENT. Is not this your son, my lord? GLOUCESTER. His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have so often blushd to acknowledge him that now I am brazd tot. KENT. I cannot conceive you. GLOUCESTER. Sir, this young fellows mother could; whereupon she grew round-wombed, and had | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020896 | indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault? KENT. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper. GLOUCESTER. But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020897 | knave came something saucily to the world before he was sent for, yet was his mother fair; there was good sport at his making, and the whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this noble gentleman, Edmund? EDMUND. No, my lord. GLOUCESTER. My Lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my honourable friend. EDMUND. My services to your lordship. KENT. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020898 | I must love you, and sue to know you better. EDMUND. Sir, I shall study deserving. GLOUCESTER. He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. The King is coming. [_Sennet within._] Enter Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia and Attendants. LEAR. Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester. GLOUCESTER. I shall, my lord. [_Exeunt Gloucester and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020899 | Edmund._] LEAR. Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. Give me the map there. Know that we have divided In three our kingdom: and tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age; Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburdend crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, And you, our no less loving son of | 60 | gutenberg |
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