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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 stol’n their buzzing, Antony,

       And very wisely threat before you sting.

       ANTONY.

       Villains, you did not so when your vile daggers

       Hack’d one another in the sides of Caesar:

       You show’d your teeth like apes, and fawn’d like hounds,

       And bow’d like bondmen, kissing Caesar’s feet;

       Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind

       Struck Caesar on the neck. O flatterers!

       CASSIUS.

       Flatterers!—Now, Brutus, thank yourself:

       This tongue had not offended so to-day,

       If Cassius might have ruled.

       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 Caesar’s three and thirty wounds

       Be well avenged; or till another Caesar

       Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.

       BRUTUS.

       Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors’ hands,

       Unless thou bring’st 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 honourably.

       CASSIUS.

       A peevish school boy, worthless of such honour,

       Join’d 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!

       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 birthday; as this very day

       Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala:

       Be thou my witness that against my will,

       As Pompey was, am I compell’d 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 perch’d,

       Gorging and feeding from our soldiers’ hands;

       Who to Philippi here consorted us:

       This morning are they fled away and gone;

       And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites

       Fly o’er 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 it partly;

       For I am fresh of spirit, and resolved

       To meet all perils very constantly.

       BRUTUS.

       Even so, Lucilius.

       CASSIUS.

       Now, most noble Brutus,

       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 befall.

       If 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 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 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 made.

       CASSIUS.

       For ever and for ever farewell, Brutus!

       If we do meet again, we’ll 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 day’s business ere it come!

       But it sufficeth that the day will end,

       And then the end is known.—Come, ho! away!

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE II. The same. The field

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